The statement “this record changed my life” can feel hyperbolic on most occasions. Sure, a record certainly has the capability and many records do, in fact, have a major influence and impact on a person’s life. I’m not sure Elephant changed my life, but I think it changed Jack White’s (and it certainly made a sizable impression on mine). White Blood Cells was the album that catapulted The White Stripes from underground Detroit / garage-rock sensations and pinned them at the head of the rock revival alongside their peers The Strokes and others like The Hives and Vines, and yet as epic as that album is, Elephant was the one that entered Jack White into the conversation of guitar gods and the record that made everything he would do next a major event in the music industry. In the twenty years since, Jack has been enshrined as one of the last true rock stars and the band is now remembered as one of the greatest musical duos of all time. None of that would be the case without Elephant.
It’s important to remember that at this point in the White Stripes’ career, we weren’t actually sure if Meg and Jack were the brother/sister pair that they claimed or a divorced couple like a lot of people were starting to report. In early 2003, they were just a couple of kids from Detroit who seemed extra shy, but steeped in the vast knowledge of rock and roll (especially the kind that came from the Motor City) and they were ready to breathe it back into the lungs of music fans around the world recesitating it from the brink of death on which it seemed to be lying as the new millennium carred on in its first decades. Heavy guitar riffs were certainly the vibe and their “throwback” sound was what helped build their reputation from the beginning, but as the band gained more fame with their blazing single “Fell in Love with a Girl” as well as the rest of the album and their highly energetic live show, it was clear by the time they announced their new album and lead single that things were on the brink of explosion.
When the opening notes of “Seven Nation Army” first came through the speakers, it was a moment of high anticipation. Then first impression was a bass note? It seemed unexpected from a band that really seemed to identify as a strictly guitar and drums act, but it was also instantly iconic and before you knew it, Jack was ripping into an electrifying riff that erased any fear that the band wouldn’t be living up to their bold statements and the high expectations that would graduate from saviors of rock to the newly corinated royal couple. As the album neared and early reviews rolled in, the stage was set that this would find the band leaning more into the Blues and channeling the roots and history of the genre, a move that my teenage brain couldn’t really comprehend. Blues music? I mean, I knew that Blues musicians influenced a lot of my classic rock heroes, but I wasn’t expecting that for someone I deemed a leader of a new generation.
Still, the day of the release I bought the CD (one of the last times I’d do so on release day for this format) and proceeded to devote all of my attention to it. Instantly, I succumbed to the brilliance and understood the nearly universal praise that stemmed from Rolling Stone’s five-star review. This was an album that would shift not just how I’d listen to and enjoy music, but how I’d think about its creation as well. The possibility that a record so dense and full of such creativity could be made by only two individuals was an enthralling idea and one that would course through my head each time I’d hit play. Jack’s eccentric guitar playing all grounded with Meg’s steadfast and furious rhythms came to life with such power and vigor and intensified perfectly as I raised the volume on my bedroom speakers to enjoy the mighty ax slaying as loud as possible, something I still strive for when I listen to it today.
With each listen, more would emerge to me and I’d gain more appreciation for the range the duo could commit to in such a short amount of time. They were still the guitar and drum band, but they added in some piano and other little flourishes this go around that expanded their sound to something beyond my dreams without trading in anything that made them so unique and special in the first place. This was matured songwriting growth and it was clear to me that the band had learned and developed so much in the year prior as the success of White Blood Cells continued. I’d later realize that Elephant had actually been recorded an entire year earlier and was blown away that they’d been sitting on them for so long and then immediately wondered “wow, they must be writing something even more incredible right now and we won’t hear it for years!”
The jerking, start-stop motion of “Hardest Button to Button,” the break-neck speed of “Girl You Have No Faith in Medicine,” the vocal-delayed effect on “There’s No Room For You Here Girl,” the intimacy of “You’ve Got Her in Your Pocket,” Meg’s vocals on “In the Cold, Cold Night,” the vignette about the squirrel in “Little Acorns,” the country duet and further mystery building on “It’s True We Love One Another,” every song held its place on the record, but also could standout as a perfect representative on a mixtape. But the centerpiece “Ball and Biscuit” hit with such a punch, I still feel like I’m reeling from it today.
The song has since gone on to become one of Jack’s defining moments as a guitarist and it’s still the usual highlight any time he plays it live, which luckily is quite often. It’s the song that made him ascend to the summit of modern musicians on which he’s stood ever since. However, as spine-tingling as his solos are, it’s also Meg’s steady, consistent, and still forceful drumming that allows it to all work. She provides the necessary steady ground for which he can stand on before pogosticking to the moon. Her restraint and anchoring rhythm allows Jack to do what he does oh so well and if she played it any differently, it wouldn’t work. It’s a stunning example of power dynamics between two musicians who are feeding off each other with absolute power, conviction, and trust. It’s probably the best song the two ever committed to tape.
While “Ball and Biscuit” may be the actual crown jewel on the record, the success of “Seven Nation Army” obviously can’t be ignored. Over a billion streams latter, the song is the universal sporting anthem, the thunderous chant of the guitar, not bass in fact!, opening heard throughout sporting venues around the globe, it’s without question the defining song of the band and perhaps Jack’s solo career as well. In my mind, I can still hear it as the “new” White Stripes song, the one that would lead to the album that would change everything. One of the best guitar players of all-time opening his best album with what many think is a bass-line is a wild thing to think about. It’s not a move many would do, but it was something bold and brazen and it introduced Jack White to the world at large. No other song could open the album and no other songs could follow it in any other order. I’m not sure if Elephant changed my life to the effect as a few others, but it certainly played a major part and things certainly wouldn’t be the same without it.
I do believe elephants!live a very beautiful long healthy life if not killed for ivory or some bizarre animal circus type bullshit…that gives the frostiness of a beautiful, blossoming gorgeous flowers isn’t as a tasty beautiful, full body red wine with just the right a mount of age and tannins to make you want to dunk the crust from Mamas Special pizza anchovies on the side. If you haven’t tried anchovies…try them at least once.