Since splitting from The White Stripes, Jack White has spent his solo career restlessly shapeshifting. Released on Third Man Records – White’s own label, Frozen Charlotte is a roaring victory lap, finding excellence in an aesthetic between his solo work and his classics.
After a run of albums that pushed White into electronic experimentation, art-rock detours and some of his most demanding vocal and lyrical work yet, he went back to basics hard with No Name – a no-nonsense garage-blues barnburner that, in my opinion, has the makings of a modern classic. Hot off the heels of that album and its lengthy tour with a stripped-back band (Dominic Davis on bass, Patrick Keeler on drums, Bobby Emmett on keys), White returns with a sister record in Frozen Charlotte – a stripped-back, raw blend of blues and garage rock – the same sound White cut his teeth on with The White Stripes. He shows real growth here as a lyricist and frontman but doesn’t move the goalposts much further than he did on No Name – to the album’s benefit and detriment.
Singles G.O.D. And The Broken Ribs and Derecho Demonico served up a one-two punch of pentatonic riffs, a raw live feel, and vocals that land somewhere between an auctioneer and a preacher mid-sermon. Broken Ribs retells the Adam and Eve story between bluesy mini-solos, offering a devilishly tongue-in-cheek take on the cruelty of the original tale – very much a sequel to No Name’s Archbishop Harold Holmes. Derecho Demonico is vaguer lyrically but matches the riffs’ swagger with braggadocious declarations. There’s Nobody There carries an earworm riff layered with scatting vocals in the bridge – I caught myself humming it long after the track ended, and the tasty organ runs near the close seal the deal. These three opening tracks are a great showcase of what White does best: to-the-point, high-energy, riff-driven songwriting.
Raising the Grain and You’ll Never Fix Me push White to vocal extremes, and he pulls off a screamed, strained performance that sounds effortless – no small feat almost 40 years into his career.
As the tracklist unfolds, recurring themes of isolation, anxiety and confusion take hold. Nobody Knows plays like a kind of societal awakening, an attempt to make sense of the chaos we create day to day. I Can’t Believe What I’m Hearing, She’s in a Frenzy and All Alone Again feel more overtly about a relationship falling apart, the high-energy riffs mirroring the anxiety of the fallout. Neighbors Blues brings that isolation down to a domestic level, a glass-half-empty takedown of neighbourly naysayers. Top to bottom, the lyrics on Frozen Charlotte are pessimistic and anxious – I found that gave the album an excellent stick-it-to-the-man energy, well matched by filthy performances.
Which brings me to production. White has always leaned lo-fi and edgy – a core tenet of The White Stripes’ ethos – and I found that aesthetic pushed to thrilling new extremes on No Name, which had me hoping for more of the same here. Frozen Charlotte sticks to a garage-rock, DIY approach that still complements White’s songwriting well, but it’s missing some of the exhilarating extremes No Name had in spades. On every solo Jack White release, there’s usually a guitar tone or mix choice that leaves me baffled and desperate to chase down as a musician; this time, nothing sent me hunting for a new pedal. That’s not to say the mixing and production are bad – far from it. The almost-mono soundstage lends a charming vintage flair, and there’s real liveliness to the performances, particularly a roomy, live-sounding rhythm section. This may be a personal gripe more than anything, but the guitar nerd in me was hoping for something that pushed the envelope just a little further.
The same holds for the record as a whole: it’s outrageously consistent, with no weak links, but also no huge standout moments. That makes for a great listen and a fitting sister album to No Name, though I suspect some of White’s other work’ll overshadow it as time goes on. I must give props to the marketing and release of this record – Third Man has become something of a champion for making physical media feel like an event again. The pressings for this record are gorgeous and more importantly clean as a whistle – I’d recommend giving it a listen on vinyl. If you’re after record player gear as a novice or pro, be sure to go to your local Richer Sounds for the best knowledge and deals in vinyl.
Overall, Frozen Charlotte is another slam dunk from indie rock’s most consistent king – one of this year’s clearest proof points that rock is nowhere near dead in 2026. Whilst I was missing a standout moment or two along the way, there was never a point in its runtime where I stopped bobbing my head to some beautifully simple, righteous rock.
Author: Elliot, Holborn Store
