Despite how similar Elephant is to the rest of the White Stripes catalogue (in a couple instances songs even partially use the exact same chords and melodies as songs from White Blood Cells), it does show continued musical maturation and experimentation. In addition to longer, more creative solos, songs such as Black Math, There's No Home For You Here, and Ball and Biscuit show some changes to the White Stripes sound. Black Math juxtaposes a punk rock chord riff with a more heavy metal sounding guitar (like the acoustic and electric in Now Mary from White Blood Cells). There's No Room For You Here is almost a rewrite of Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground until the music breaks off and there is only feedback and the chorus sung in harmony. Ball and Biscuit contains a classic blues riff repeated over and over, until it bursts into an amazing blistering solo. These songs are different from the normal White Stripes formula (is there such a thing?), and provide even more evidence of Jack White's songwriting skill.

Some fans of the hard garage rock songs may be turned off by the softer, acoustic/piano songs on here. There are three; You've Got Her in Your Pocket, In the Cold, Cold Night, and Well It's True That We Love One Another. Well It's True (a country sing-a-long type song, with Jack, Meg, and Holly singing to each other about Jack's love for Holly) is the worst song on the album, because of it's novelty. The others, however, are good acoustic songs, much like Hotel Yorba from White Blood Cells, although not as great. Even if you don't like these types of songs, I think the strength of the electric material would outweigh the acoustic, and you would like the album anyway.

The White Stripes have done it again. Another great garage rock album you can listen to on a day when you feel like banging your head and air guitaring (or playing real guitar, depending), without skipping a track. Any fan of White Blood Cells should buy Elephant without hesitation.


Phenomenal Upon First Listen, But In Hindsight...   May 3, 2003
 35 out of 51 found this review helpful

Make no mistake, "Elephant" is an decent rock record; its songs are, for the most part, expertly written and astutely executed with bare-bones elements, an approach that requires a considerable level of skill. However, "Elephant" strangely has little replay value, a trait that I attribute to its prevailing sameness and limited scope. That is, the first listen provides a phenomenal thrill, something subsequent listens are unable to replicate.

Jack White has certainly grown as musician over the course of the Stripes' four LPs--after the droning, monotonous garage rock of his band's self-titled debut, he was able to broaden his horizons with more whimsical songwriting, piano and slide guitar, and artsy ambitions. And now, with "Elephant," he seems to have reached his peak. He has created a record that combines the raw, rootsy feel of the delta blues and traditional country with the jumpy garage rock of The Stooges and Led Zeppelin, paying joyful homage with only a guitar, piano, voice, and drums.

White's amazing talents shine through on the amazing opener, "Seven Nation Army." Armed with a faux-bassline, Meg White's assertive drumming, and Jack's best bluesy drawl, the track's creeping melody plasters itself to the listener's memory and provides an exciting journey throughout. While this is by far the record's highpoint, many of the other songs stand out as well. The Meg-sung "In The Cold, Cold Night" evokes Nico and the Velvet Underground while sounding like a cowboy's waltz through a Western saloon. "Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine" has a killer riff and some truly inventive lyrics about medical remedies. "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" takes the old Bacharach-David for a rollercoaster ride equipped with fuzzy deathray guitars and expressive singing.

Yet the highs on "Elephant" often struggle to overcome the many lows. The first listen to the album disguises these ubiquitous shortcomings in adrenaline-rushing audio thrills, but hindsight reveals a number of fundamental flaws that seem to spring from the Stripes' insistance on existing in the musical equivalent of the Great Depression. That is, their simplicity and often openly derivative nature bogs down potentially great music. For example, Jack's guitar playing is hotter than a flamethrowrer spitting out recycled Black Sabbath tunes, but it ultimately is only a guilty pleasure, nothing on the enlightening par of Hendrix's genre-bending virtuosity or Jimmy Page's soulful soloing. This most prominent shortcoming speaks volumes about "Elephant": it often struggles to overcome its status as a dilution of its influences.

More frustrating is the persistently limiting guitar-drums-eight-track aesthetic. While such naive simplicity has won the raves of many critics and fans alike, it has weighed down the artistic ambitions of the Stripes like an anvil. Imagine, for example, trying to pay tribute to such grand visual artists as Van Gogh and Monet using only the primary colors and one brush; your end result might be coherent and even admirable, but it pales in comparison to towering works of greater boldness and complexity. And while I will concede that some of the techy, overproduced music of today is garbage, there are plenty of modern records (some of them made this year, such as Blur's "Think Tank") that outshine the retro-vibes of "Elephant" Put simply, the Stripes struggle to find enough variations on a simple theme to keep things interesting: the similiar guitar drones of "Black Math" and "Little Acorns" disguise sloppy, underdeveloped songwriting; the punk buzz of "Hypnotize" sounds unimaginatively similiar to the megahit "Fell In Love With A Girl"; and the album closer is a fraction of song that has, beneath its fleeting humor, very little to offer.

It is hard to create varied and daring art with a severely limited palette; only a few bands have been able to create masterworks using only music's primary colors. The White Stripes are not yet a great band, but the most frustrating aspect of their existence is the fact that they could be a savior band if they would only open themselves to new musical avenues. Their humour (the overwrought "Ball and Biscuit" is actually a satire of the cocky attitudes that dominant society, according to a SPIN interview) and songwriting skill (the stomping "The Hardest Button to Button) speak volumes of their talent level. But while their dedication to simpler times is somewhat admirable, it often oversimplifies their songs and leaches them of enduring colour.


Same Sound, Same Great Result   February 28, 2003
 30 out of 34 found this review helpful

There are things in life that we just don't want to see change because they're so damn good the way they are. They're comfort food for the soul. The White Stripes are such comfort food for me. Following up the massive breakout record White Blood Cells they've given us another fabulous record that bleeds classic White Stripes sound. . The title, Elephant, was chosen because the animal represents their personalities: regal, innocent, compassionate, and subtle. The musical rules are loosened a bit from the previous record's tight restrictions, but it's hardly anything new, even in the world of Jack and Meg White. IN the end it's still all about guitar and drums, indistinct relationships, and red and white outfits.

Jack's confidence as a songwriter really shows through. It's as Jack has stated an album about the death of the sweethearts (note the dying country lovers the album cover depicts) and, for the most part, the songs center around the ways of love, relationships, commitment and the rules that govern going about them. Nothing too new here, much like a lot of White Blood Cells lyric wise; personal with keeping enough hidden to still be mysterious.

The musical structure is quite familiar, but there's enough "new" elements to satisfy. They're quite comfortable with themselves and their musical formula and they should be because it works quite well. The first single and lead track "Seven Nation Army" kicks in with a false bass groove (guitar w/ pedal effect) and kicks the album to a charging start with the usual charging blues based riffs that have become Jack's trademark. The loud riffing continues on such songs as the building then bombastic "Hardest Button to Button", the crunching "Little Acorns", and the punk, could be hit single "Hypnotize". Then there's the softer side of Jack White with the acoustic, tender "You've Got Her in Your Pocket" and "Cold, Cold Night", which has Meg takes over on vocals.

The record just reminds me why the White Stripes are so much beyond just another garage revival band (not that the rest of the bands are without merit). Even with all the relationship rumors that float around the band and their personas they never pretend to be something they're not. Even with their simplistic musical styles they're still put out more a more interesting sound than the rest of the lot. The slow going evolution of Jack White's songwriting is certainly something to be excited about and I think they've yet to make their best record, but this one is pretty damn close if not.


i just don't get it.   April 4, 2003
 28 out of 69 found this review helpful

i tried to like this band. i know, a lot of people say how amazing they are, hyping this "garage rock" thing. i bought white blood cells, listened several times, just couldn't bring myself to enjoy it. while i love rougher-sounding bands like nirvana, the stooges, led zeppelin, the buzzocks, i don't find anything really appealing about the white stripes' music, or anything that makes it unique from anyone else's. they just seem to have spin/mtv hype like all the rest of these so called "garage bands." i tried again to understand the fuss, and bought the "elephant" album a couple of days ago, not expecting much. well, i didn't get much. a lot of their music sounds the same, very course, and while there is some nice guitar work i just can't get into it. i wouldn't recommend them to anyone actually, because i just don't think they're any good. sorry if you disagree, but that's my two cents.