Jack White’s new 4-star secret album deserves to be played on repeat

For as long as I have known about him, Jack White has been full of surprises.

If you haven’t yet heard what didn’t take long to become music lore on July 19, customers of the music entrepreneur’s Third Man Records stores in Nashville, Detroit and London, England, were given nondescript, seemingly throwaway 12-inch records for free with any purchases made that day.

The all-white package with “No Name” stamped in blue on the label turned out to be a brand new, full-length Jack White album, the sixth studio effort since he went out on his own following the White Stripes breakup in 2011.

Days later, there was nothing but continued mystery surrounding what appears to be a golden ticket-type gift from the rock embodiment of Willy Wonka. How do you properly review an album whose songs are all untitled, let alone “No Name” not being readily accessible to anyone who might be interested in listening after reading this?

All we have at the moment until White decides to enlighten his fans further are lyrics we can do our best to try to decipher. That is if we’re able to pause long enough from the non-stop assault of riffs, chords and licks he has bestowed upon us like the divine rock philanthropist he is.

No, I don’t have one of the prized physical copies that are already being auctioned for ridiculous sums on sites such as eBay.

Among the stories on White’s official Instagram account was one from Third Man Records encouraging what I can only assume are the lucky vinyl holders to “RIP IT” and share their new-found music wealth. The fifth song on “No Name” even contains cryptic instructions for those with sharp ears in between nodding their heads over the chugging hard rock: “But you must tell seven friends, you must first bring seven friends. And don’t be selfish and keep this all to yourself.”

Engrossing myself in downloaded MP3s of White’s new album takes me back to a pre-Spotify playlist era when I used to overload my iPod knock-off with megabytes of rock data that my wife is adamant had a hand in rendering me near deaf.

“No Name” is in a lot of ways a prolonged exercise in music history; while there are certainly echoes from past bands White has been in, besides his own solo work, the guitar virtuoso just keeps ambushing your senses song after nameless song.

If you know Jack White’s discography, he has never stuck to one particular sort of music exclusively — the White Stripes for example would often move from Delta-type blues to country to punk over a single song let alone a full album.

As crazy as this may sound, the biggest surprise for me is how “No Name” somewhat lacks the genre diversity admirers of White’s creative vastness are used to. If his prodigious, straight-ahead rock guitar prowess is what you are most into, you absolutely need to get your hands on this collection.

There are a few known variables to “No Name”: there are 14 tracks totalling a little over 42 minutes split evenly between the A and B sides on wax, although the 10th cut is a 30-second instrumental number that takes an all-too-short funky turn.

Without the benefit of liner notes or much else to confirm, it sure sounds as if this was all recorded live off the floor of White’s studio with his current touring band, which includes stand-at-attention hip-hop drummer Daru Jones, childhood chum Dominic Davis on bass and Quincy McCrary adding keyboard depth and soul.

At a time when the industry is rightfully worried about AI taking over, “No Name” feels real, raw, and is guaranteed to cement Jack White’s authenticity as an artist, although it’s not like that reputation was ever really in doubt.

The surprise factor alone and the need to keep “No Name” on constant repeat makes it an easy four out of four stars for me.

I know Jack White’s voice can grate on some, but I can’t think of an album in memory that forces you to listen so intently for clues as to how to this brainchild came about … and what more may come.