Their Love Is Only A Fraction Of What I Can Give To You

The White Stripes @ Keyspan Park 9/24/2005
Black Math / Blue Orchid / Dead Leaves & The Dirty Ground – Passive Manipulation – Dead Leaves (reprise) / Jolene / My Doorbell / Cannon – John The Revelator – Passive Manipulation – Screwdriver / The Nurse / Forever For Her (Is Over For Me) / Death Letter / Hotel Yorba / The Hardest Button To Button / I Think I Smell A Rat (Jack integrates a bit of Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” – “this shit is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s”) / Walking With A Ghost (Tegan & Sara cover) / Ball & Biscuit (snippet) – Hello Operator / The Union Forever // I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet) / Red Rain / In The Cold, Cold Night / Let’s Shake Hands / We’re Going To Be Friends / Little Ghost / Ball & Biscuit (full version) / Seven Nation Army / Boll Weevil

The White Stripes “Forever For Her (Is Over For Me)” – It’s going to be interesting to see how that next Kenny Chesney album turns out, huh? Then we get to know whether Jack White is a bitter drama queen, or if Renee Zellweger is a HORRIBLE SHREW WHO DESTROYS LIVES. Or, ha, a HORRIBLE SHREW WHO DESTROYS THE LIVES OF BITTER DRAMA QUEENS. And if that’s the case, then maybe she should be commended for performing a public service, especially since she has clearly drawn out some perverse extremes in Jack White’s songwriting, as his gallant front crumbles into wounded pride, paranoia, and undiluted spite. It’s sort of compelling to see the guy fall apart emotionally on record at the height of his powers, playing the role of the preening exhibitionist at the precise moment when his audience would most like to be voyeurs.

In terms of setlist, performance, venue and visual presentation (I wish that I had a good picture of their set design, because it’s brilliant), this was by far the best White Stripes show that I’ve seen, though I have to say, the experience was diminished greatly by getting stuck next to the lone patch of violent moshing frat thugs, and then after my friend and I made our retreat from them, a duo of middle-aged morons who would not stop gabbing through the quiet songs in the second set. (The shlubby guidance counsellor-looking dude had to keep telling his Flo-the-waitress-looking date that “I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet)” was “like an old blues song,” presumably trying to impress her with his VAST musical knowledge.) I suppose that it’s interesting to see how the band’s fanbase has now extended well beyond that of their mellow, polite indie rock base, but you know what? I don’t care. Rudeness is rudeness is rudeness, and that fist-flailing crazy eyed motherfucker to my right for half of the show had me worrying about getting a stray punch in the eye when I should have been happily bopping along to “My Doorbell.” (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)