Goodnight, White Stripes! One of the most visceral listens in music has called it a day.
And I don’t blame them. Go out with that reputation intactmrather than overstay your welcome like that friend who says they are coming for a weekend visit, stay for two, and keep you awake into the wee hours with stories and tales.
Only unlike that forward friend, The White Stripes did, indeed, keep me awake, the air flowing near my fingers, with their insatiable tracks. An overnight drive alone, from Chicago to Boston, and those graveyard shifts as a security guard–Jack and Meg, my little army.
And as those two walk off toward the sunset like brother and sister, we walk on to, with a chorus of favorite Stripes’ tracks (yes, clearly Elelphant(ine) heavy).