Gods Be Praised: The Dead Weather Are (Finally) Back

On October 1st 2015

the-dead-weather-4de02e7eee046

picture via Origami Vinyl

Remember how much cooler you felt when you realized your parents (or depending on how old you are, your grandparents) went to Woodstock? When they told you stories about Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant and all the other gods of rock music? Well one day, when we're grandparents, we'll be able to look our children in the eyes and tell them Jack White was at his very best during our generation. Jack White, whether you love him or you hate him, is a incredibly gifted multi-talented musician/god. From the White Stripes to The Raconteurs, a slew of solo projects to many other musical endeavors, the man takes rock and roll to a new, purely gritty level. A level that rock should always be on.

Enter Alison Mosshart. We knew her as the singer for The Kills, and when you’re talking about women that “rock” (even though you shouldn’t be talking about “women” that rock anyway) she kills it harder than probably 90% of humans who have ever tried taking on a rock and roll…roll. The term “badass” honestly may only exist because of Alison Mosshart. From her wild ombre’d hair, leopard coats and leather pants to her unscrupulous, visceral vocals that tear through your skull, her masterful guitar skills all the way down to the way she fucking carries herself on stage, the woman bleeds a self-confident rawness that makes anyone who even dares to look at her shrivel into doubt.

Luckily enough for us, and any creature with ears, Jack White and Alison Mosshart came together and created the ultimate rock band: The Dead Weather.

Enter guitars that slay, drums lines that literally kick your ass, and vocals that make you want to take out a red, light it up, then throw the match behind you and watch it ignite whatever it hits. I was interning at a PR agency in New York during the summer of 2010 when I first heard of The Dead Weather. Jack White was one of our clients and sinceThe Dead Weather were releasing a new album, the press was out of control. I watched the video for “Treat Me Like Your Mother”, where Jack and Alison are walking toward each other in leather jackets, cigs hanging out of their mouths and shooting each other relentlessly with machine guns, and that was it for me. I specifically remember going out and buying my own pack of cigarettes, lighting one up, and listening to that song on my iPod as I walked feverishly down the streets of New York. I felt so cool, and the only reason I felt that cool was because I had Alison Mosshart crooning in my ears. I became obsessed. I wore leopard fur coats, leather pants, and blogged every picture I could of her onto my tumblr. She was the epitome of everything I wanted to be at that time, fearless, strong, and the lead in one of the best bands I had ever heard. Jack White was already a legend to me from The White Stripes so them being together was almost too explosive for me. They killed it. And let’s not forget Dean Fertita and Jack Lawrence, the other guitarists, who make this band a foursome of heavenly rock angels.

Thankfully for us, they’re back. They dropped “Cop And Go” just a couple weeks ago, then “Mile Marker” a few days ago, and guess what, they’re still rocking just as hard as they were in 2009. With scintillating bass guitars that melt your face off to Jack White’s psychotic drum kills, all the way to Alison’s killer vocals, the band’s back together! On September 25th, The Dead Weather released their newest album Dodge and Burn, and it’s everything we hoped for, and more (including some synth laden psychedelic sounds that take it to a new level). We still get the same raw, studly blues, and the whole album makes you fall in love with The Dead Weather all over again.

 

Latest from The Magazine