There was a time long ago when I, like many others over the age of ten, was ten years old. I was about to pick up a guitar and become a musical elitist who refused to listen to anything but Zeppelin. As an aspiring guitar player with no teacher and no idea how to learn, you can imagine my exuberance when I discovered The White Stripes and their major label debut Elephant, with its lead single ‘Seven Nation Army’. Suddenly, there was a riff I could play! Yes, it was more of a bass line, but it was recorded on a guitar, and I was going to learn it!
It’s hard to believe that Elephant was released a decade ago, on 1 April 2003. In that time, ‘Seven Nation Army’ has become one of the most recognisable rock songs in recent memory, and Jack White one of the most prolific artists in popular music (try to name every band he’s been in, contributed to, or produced in the past decade alone). Elephant was both a commercial and critical success, proving that the 2000s popular rock scene didn’t have to be a victim of pop punk and nu-metal.
For an impressionable kid who was simultaneously getting his first taste of really exploring music and rebelling against everything his classmates listened to, discovering The White Stripes in the mid 2000s felt incredibly refreshing. Compared to the bevy of Good Charlottes and Simple Plans that were ubiquitous on MTV, Jack and Meg White were far superior: catchy but heavy, accessible but not poppy. To my adolescent untrained ears, it reminded me more of Led Zeppelin and Eric Clapton—artists my dad had brought me up on—than whatever Blink-182 knockoff was currently on rotation on TRL. To me, it was a perfect mix of old and new.
Now, ten years later, I’m listening to Elephant again and I can’t imagine why I haven’t done so in a long time. The album is raw, overdriven, and angry. It’s also quiet, soulful, and personal. It can throw three minutes of Jack White’s distorted riffs at you in ‘Black Math’ and then slow it all down with ‘You’ve Got Her in Your Pocket’. Yet, for an album that features both ‘Seven Nation Army’ and a cover of Burt Bacharach, it’s stunningly consistent. Every song sounds authentic and honest. Maybe it was their decision to avoid using digital recording equipment. Maybe it’s the presence of both musicians’ minimalistic yet powerful, self-assured style. Whatever the reason, to this day the album sounds dynamic and exciting; there’s nothing polished or overproduced about it. It sounds like an unfiltered glimpse into the eccentric and slightly odd mind of Jack White.
Back when I wasn’t even a teenager yet, Elephant was a welcome change for someone whose only source of new music was TV and radio. In retrospect, it was an undeniably important album that helped point me in the right direction even if I didn’t know it at the time. Although I’m not one to bemoan the state of music or maintain that popular rock died with Bonham or Cobain, The White Stripes’ popularity in the 2000s, the era of the post-grunge musical hangover, was a much-needed reminder. It was a reminder that no matter what direction mainstream rock takes, there will always be someone out there recording what they want and how they want, with energy and ambition. It was true ten years ago, and it’s still true today.