Concert review: Jack White and the Raconteurs at the Cannon Center
Flash, flair and a bit of bombast
For a band that’s been together just a few years, The Raconteurs have achieved a lot: releasing a couple of top ten records, earning a handful of Grammy nominations, and playing a succession of sold-out tours. Of course, that’s all largely come on the back of co-frontman Jack White’s previous success with the White Stripes.
Brendan Benson, left, and Jack White, with the Raconteurs, Monday night at the Cannon Center.
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That’s not to say the remainder of the Raconteurs aren’t a talented bunch. Guitarist/vocalist Brendan Benson, bassist Jack Lawrence and drummer Patrick Keeler are particularly gifted musicians as their own past endeavors have proven. It’s just that their strengths are largely wasted in the context of the band, something the Raconteurs’ Monday night concert at the Cannon Center only served to underscore.
There was plenty of flash and flair to go around as the group stormed the stage — decorated with a rustic backdrop and barrage of high contrast lighting — and lit into the title track off their second and latest album, Consolers of the Lonely. While the song — all stop-start guitar and drum dynamics — got the capacity crowd going, it also focused on White’s fondness for trundling out so much Led Zeppelin lite, something that the bulk of the Raconteurs’ catalog is built on.
Beyond the Zep aphorisms, the group’s music is comprised of a selection of spot-the-’70s influences, including the odd and unlikely mark of singer-songwriter Al Stewart (as could be heard on “The Switch and the Spur”), to the pilfered riffs and melodic twists of arena-rockers Boston and Journey.
As the nearly two-hour concert wore on, the Raconteurs showed why they’re such a fundamentally flawed band. Nowhere was this more evident than in the role Benson played. A subtle, tasteful tunesmith in his own right, Benson has long evinced a capacity for plucky McCartney-esque pop on solo albums like 1996’s One Mississippi and 2002’s follow-up, Lapalco. Those gifts, however, are largely wasted, or at least certainly lost, amid the bombast of the Raconteurs. While he managed to get a few licks in — particularly with the gorgeous arching chorus of “You Don’t Understand Me” — he seemed to almost have to fight to get his best qualities heard.
Similarly, the inspired rhythm work of Lawrence and Keeler — once the backbone for rave-up garage-rock outfit The Greenhornes — seems to be miscast; they’re forced to plod along helping prop up sagging piano-based numbers and jam-oriented excursions — including a pair of interminably long mid-set selections, among them a cover of Terry Reid’s “Rich Kid Blues.”
In fact, the only one who really seems suited to The Raconteurs set-up is, unsurprisingly, White himself. But even his usually surefire guitar tricks and sonic flights simply didn’t play as well or pack the same punch as his matador dances with the less technically capable but more beguiling Meg White.
That said, and despite White suffering from neck problems that had caused the group to consider scrapping the show (“But I said, I can’t cancel Memphis — this is my home state,” offered the now Nashville-based guitarist), the band was primed and powerful from start to finish, and delivered a set that, in terms of pure performance, overcame their musical shortcomings.
A rousing encore of “Many Shades of Black” and “Steady As She Goes,” featuring Alison “VV” Mosshart of opening band The Kills on vocals, left the crowd cheering wildly. Taking a bow and lapping up the applause, White was beaming.
It’s clear that success breeds success, and that he’s got enough commercial clout and critical acclaim that the Raconteurs will continue to prosper, almost in spite of themselves.
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