Who could have imagined that the squirmy 22-year-old, sheepishly peering down the camera’s lens on the cover of The White Stripes’ self titled debut, was destined to become the 21^st century’s premier guitar god? To this day, with his ascendancy entirely assured, and with thousands of headline gigs behind him, Jack White still looks as squeamishly out of place as ever. Even when a jam-packed field full of rapturous adoring fans are cheering him on, White feels more at home turning his back and jamming in a tight corner next to his drummer.

Jack may be the same awkward pale-faced eccentric who first peeked his head above the parapet of anonymity in 1997, but as an artist he’s taken improbably large strides. The harsh strictures of The White Stripes while thrilling, seemed destined to constrain White in those early years, but over time he blossomed into a studio maverick experimenting with marimbas, prog riffs, sinister folk and seemingly everything in between. Today, as Jack White’s quirkily vengeful Blunderbus tops the charts, Guitar Planet reflects on the ever-evolving career of the 21^st century guitar icon.

Jack White and his “sister” (ex-wife) Meg might not have looked the part in 1997, but for two artists who appeared so uncomfortable and disinterested in superstardom, they certainly understood aesthetics. The White Stripes were less a band and a more of a precision-engineered movement, with contradiction at its very core. The music seemed wild, unrehearsed and barely held together, but it was the product of a strict garage-rock obsession. Minimalist in the extreme, the duo’s marriage of thudding simplistic drumming and ear-piercing riffs were harshly contained.

The band recorded on vintage equipment at extreme speed, and their sound was defined by its sheer rawness. The look was equally strict – exclusively red, white, and black. There was no room for deviation. De Stijl was more than a cool album title; The Stripes embodied the seamless utopian minimalism of Piet Mondrian. Jack White was never streamlined like a classic De Stijl piece. The Stripes’ music was far too wild for that, but their obsession with precision and the force of minimal elements over the weight of maximalist excess, reflected the great artists’ powerfully stark and striking designs. The economical strength of simplicity overawed flabby indulgence, as “The Big Three Killed My Baby”, and later “The Hardest Button To Button”, showcased the power of simple repetition.

The White Stripes’ debut was a juggernaut, a crushing assault of blues rock primitivism; a tribute to the grind of Detroit and the great bluesmen of the past, Robert Johnson and Son House. De Stijl (2000), the band’s second album, advanced The Stripes’ sound and perfectly realised White’s vision. From the immaculate artwork to the harsh jumps and juxtaposition of the album, De Stijl was tightly contained and yet utterly explosive.

The world conquering brilliance and perplexing insanity of the White Stripes was captured on the album’s first two tracks. “You’re Pretty Good Looking” was a sweet retro-rock jaunt which highlighted White’s flair for invasive melodies and cute verging on malevolent hooks (“your pretty good looking, for a girl”). “Hello Operator”, on the other hand, was a mammoth anthem. It smashed the listener in the face with its sheer heaviness. Meg wallops the skin of her drums while Jack unleashes a devastating onslaught that sounds almost completely improvised, as if the entire riff is careening out of control. The vocals were a cryptic forerunner of White’s haunting enigmatic style, as he dementedly howled: “Find A Canary, A Bird To Bring My Message Home, Carry My Obituary, My Coffin Doesn’t Have A Phone”.

Who could have imagined that the squirmy 22-year-old, sheepishly peering down the camera’s lens on the cover of The White Stripes’ self titled debut, was destined to become the 21^st century’s premier guitar god? To this day, with his ascendancy entirely assured, and with thousands of headline gigs behind him, Jack White still looks as squeamishly out of place as ever. Even when a jam-packed field full of rapturous adoring fans are cheering him on, White feels more at home turning his back and jamming in a tight corner next to his drummer.

Jack may be the same awkward pale-faced eccentric who first peeked his head above the parapet of anonymity in 1997, but as an artist he’s taken improbably large strides. The harsh strictures of The White Stripes while thrilling, seemed destined to constrain White in those early years, but over time he blossomed into a studio maverick experimenting with marimbas, prog riffs, sinister folk and seemingly everything in between. Today, as Jack White’s quirkily vengeful Blunderbus tops the charts, Guitar Planet reflects on the ever-evolving career of the 21^st century guitar icon.

Jack White and his “sister” (ex-wife) Meg might not have looked the part in 1997, but for two artists who appeared so uncomfortable and disinterested in superstardom, they certainly understood aesthetics. The White Stripes were less a band and a more of a precision-engineered movement, with contradiction at its very core. The music seemed wild, unrehearsed and barely held together, but it was the product of a strict garage-rock obsession. Minimalist in the extreme, the duo’s marriage of thudding simplistic drumming and ear-piercing riffs were harshly contained.

The band recorded on vintage equipment at extreme speed, and their sound was defined by its sheer rawness. The look was equally strict – exclusively red, white, and black. There was no room for deviation. De Stijl was more than a cool album title; The Stripes embodied the seamless utopian minimalism of Piet Mondrian. Jack White was never streamlined like a classic De Stijl piece. The Stripes’ music was far too wild for that, but their obsession with precision and the force of minimal elements over the weight of maximalist excess, reflected the great artists’ powerfully stark and striking designs. The economical strength of simplicity overawed flabby indulgence, as “The Big Three Killed My Baby”, and later “The Hardest Button To Button”, showcased the power of simple repetition.

The White Stripes’ debut was a juggernaut, a crushing assault of blues rock primitivism; a tribute to the grind of Detroit and the great bluesmen of the past, Robert Johnson and Son House. De Stijl (2000), the band’s second album, advanced The Stripes’ sound and perfectly realised White’s vision. From the immaculate artwork to the harsh jumps and juxtaposition of the album, De Stijl was tightly contained and yet utterly explosive.

The world conquering brilliance and perplexing insanity of the White Stripes was captured on the album’s first two tracks. “You’re Pretty Good Looking” was a sweet retro-rock jaunt which highlighted White’s flair for invasive melodies and cute verging on malevolent hooks (“your pretty good looking, for a girl”). “Hello Operator”, on the other hand, was a mammoth anthem. It smashed the listener in the face with its sheer heaviness. Meg wallops the skin of her drums while Jack unleashes a devastating onslaught that sounds almost completely improvised, as if the entire riff is careening out of control. The vocals were a cryptic forerunner of White’s haunting enigmatic style, as he dementedly howled: “Find A Canary, A Bird To Bring My Message Home, Carry My Obituary, My Coffin Doesn’t Have A Phone”.