The Dead Weather – The Boston Arms, London, 23/06/09

24 June 2009, 15:10 | Written by Ro Cemm

(Live)

A figure hunches over in the half light, corkscrew curls tumbling down over his face. At the front of the stage a skinny figure clad in leopard skin prowls the stage like a wild cat, dashing to the mic and grabbing it before running away again, heavily made up eyes scared and wild, darting round the audience. She takes a drag on her smoking ban flouting cigarette. The riffs come hard and the drums are big, Bonham style. So begins The Dead Weather’s first public outing in the UK, in the oh-so-glamorous location that is the Boston Arms Music Rooms in Tuffnel Park.

To see such a global star as Jack White in such intimate surroundings should be a joy. But something seems amiss. For a start, the small room is barely half full- perhaps this is due to safety concerns, but it seems to dull the atmosphere a little. Then there is the music itself. Sure, the riffs are big, and heavy. So are the drums. In fact pretty much everything is BIG. White does his best Bonham impression on second track ‘Treat me Like Your Mother’, while simultaneously delivering a backing vocal that sounds, thanks to some technical difficulties, like someone kicking a sleeping cat. Sound men scurry around – a spot of level adjustment later and all is well again.

For much of the set the formula is thus: White pounds the drums, while ‘little Jack’ (of Blanche) puts down a heavy bass riff and guitarist Dean Fertita noodles on guitars and occasionally keyboards. In the meantime Alison Mosshart does her best howling banshee meets Robert Plant impressions, pulling shapes and smoking…often at the same time. While undoubtedly the smoking thing is supposed to be cool, it actually comes across as pathetic. If the woman seriously needs to smoke that much then you have to feel truly sorry for her. And maybe this is the problem. For much of the show it all feels a bit forced – the kind of heavy rock and roll the Dead Weather aspire to is about passion and heart, not posing and pouting.

While technically competent, at times the songs feel like a tribute to Led Zepplin rather than anything to stand on its own merit. Unfortunately, at times the Zepplin tribute also takes in the most bloated aspects of that band- White doing mini-Bonham drum solos and guitars noodling that moment too long.

‘You Just Can’t Win’ moves away from the template to throw in a cover of Them. White taking on lead vocals in what is actually a pretty passable Van Morrison impression. It’s one of the shows highlights. For the sets closer, White clambers out from behind the drums, straps on a guitar and shares vocal duties and a microphone with Mosshart on ‘Will There Be Enough Water?’. It’s the part of the show where you are meant to feel the sexual tension between the two stars. But there isn’t any- it’s just another tired rock and roll cliche. White ends the set with a searing guitar solo, and it’s hard not to feel that it was this element of spontaneity and sheer brilliance that The Dead Weather have really lacked.

Like a football team on the other end of an earbashing, it’s almost a different band that comes out for the encore. The energy and passion finally arrive for ‘Hang You From The Heavens’ and the show closes with a blistering blues-metal version of Dylan’s ‘New Pony’.

However, it’s a case of too little too late. It is perhaps telling that the two best songs of the night are covers. Sure, they aren’t bad for a side project of a side project, but, on this evidence, it really is time that Jack White got back to the day job.