Horehound

The Dead Weather’s debut album, Horehound, comes across like a lonely soul wandering aimlessly through a nameless city’s bars and dark spots, looking for answers at the bottom of every glass and bottle in town. It feels like a 1950’s Elmore Leonard character. Seeped in hope and desperation, yet you can’t take your eyes off it, you’re enthralled and entertained and slightly worried all at the same time.

So it comes as no surprise that an album which conjures up such imagery is brought to you by Detroit’s rock-blues wunderkind Jack White, this time riding alongside his stagecoach are an ensemble of misfits and strangers that includes Alison Mosshart [The Kills], Jack Lawrence [The Raconteurs] and Dean Fertita [Queens Of The Stone Age].

Opening with the temperamentally broody ‘60 Feet Tall‘, Mosshart soon brings the attention from the rear of the room - where White is in fact playing the drums - out front and centre as she bellows and barks in way’s we’ve never heard her before. This is very much her time, her voice, and what a voice it is. The Kills frontlady  occasionally steps aside - like on the instrumental third track ‘Birds’ - which is a shame because while the press will very much talk up any Jack White project as “his” band, this is Mosshart’s stage to shine upon and she does so, as brightly as the dark night can be.

Debut single ‘Hang You From The Heavens’ displays The Dead Weather’s fondness for the ‘quiet-loud-quiet’ dynamic and they work it with an air of ease that would unsettle even the sternest of listeners. Their confident swagger and perfect restraint continues as the album twists and turns through the dusty trail it leaves in its wake.  ‘So Far From Your Weapon’ and ‘Treat Me Like Your Mother’ sit side-by-side like a pair of old drinking buddies catching up on times passed, as ‘Rocking Horse’ tries to saddle up next to them and get an earful of these fables.

As the sweat drips from the ear canals, album closer ‘Will There Be Enough Water’ saunters along like victorious heavyweight boxer after 12 rounds, and finally giving you that much needed time to catch your breath and take in the 36 minute aural emotional cycle they’ve just gone through. This is an album that, although featuring an ensemble cast destined for success, can’t help but feel like it was written for and by the underdog, the loser the drunk and the lonely.

So pull yourself a seat at the bar, slide down your dark glasses, look the bartender in the eye and order yourself a nice large neat whiskey. Glance around at the no hopers, degenerates and social outcasts as you sip away safe in the knowledge that though you are in the same boat as these people, you will always be the better person. For you my friend, the underdog, are The Dead Weather and you have Horehound to protect you.