Album of the Day — July 13
The Raconteurs — Consolers of the Lonely
The Raconteurs — Consolers of the Lonely
13.July.2020
The Raconteurs
Consolers of the Lonely
2008
rac·on·teur
/ˌräˌkänˈtər/
noun
— a person who tells anecdotes skillfully and amusingly.
This band is appropriately named.
On the sophomore album Consolers of the Lonely, their storytelling moves from skillful to masterful … and boy do they have some tales to tell.
The Raconteurs are:
Jack White (vocals, guitar)
Brendan Benson (vocals, guitar)
Jack Lawrence (bass guitar)
Patrick Keeler (drums)
During a hiatus from The White Stripes, and before that band’s collapse, Jack White was working with fellow Detroit native Brendan Benson and they wrote a song, “Steady, As She Goes” … turns out they liked it and decided to start a band.
The band is built around principle songwriters/guitarists and singers Jack White and Brendan Benson. The songs here have a sound, texture, and depth that is reminiscent of the best of 70s rock and roll … the kind of music that was successful but not so successful that it’s played ad nauseam on classic rock radio.
Even when they are channeling The Who or Led Zeppelin, it’s not the dreck you hear 600 times annually.
Recording in Benson’s home studio, the band banged out Broken Toy Soldiers in short order. As luck would have it, a lot of people liked that first song “Steady, As She Goes” … and Broken Toy Soldiers.
That album charted in both the US and the UK and was nominated for Best Rock Album (losing to Coldplay) and “Steady, As She Goes” was nominated for Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal (losing to the Red Hot Chili Peppers).
However, the British magazine Mojo named Broken Toy Soldiers Album of the Year in 2006.
The Raconteurs closed out their inaugural launch opening eight dates for Bob Dylan.
Not too shabby for a band’s initial outing.
When it came time to record a follow-up, they retreated to Nashville’s Blackbird Studio and spent the month of February 2008 recording.
The title of the record comes from former Harvard University President Charles William Eliot and is inscribed on the side of the Washington D.C. Post Office:
“Messenger of sympathy and love, servant of parted friends, consoler of the lonely, bond of the scattered family, enlarger of the common life.”
Consolers of the Lonely was finished the first week of March 2008. In an effort to eschew critics and get the album right to the fans, the album was released less than three weeks later.
For a band like The Raconteurs to move that quickly without the powers that be having a chance to market the album was not only unorthodox but probably done to the chagrin of their label.
The album’s first single “Salute Your Solution” borrows heavily from both The Who and Led Zeppelin … channeled through PiL. After the assault of “Salute Your Solution” the band slides into “You Don’t Understand Me” — if you’ve ever been in love with the wrong person, then you know this sentiment.
You Don’t Understand Me
You don’t understand me
But if the feeling was right you might
Comprehend me.
And why do you feel the need to tease me?
Why don’t you turn it around,
It might be easier to please me.
And there’s always another point of view,
A better way to do the things we do.
And how can you know me and I know you
If nothing is true?
What do you think that you are doing? (Oh…)
Who is the fool, the fool
Or the fool that you are fooling? (Fool that you are fooling…)
And maybe I just don’t see the reason (Reason…)
But in the core of my heart
Your ignorance is treason.
And there’s always another point of view,
A better way to do the things we do.
And how can you know me and I know you
If nothing is true?
You think you know how I feel.
It’s not that big of a deal.
There’s no such thing, it’s not real.
Oh…
You don’t understand me.
But if the feeling was right you might
Comprehend me.
And I don’t claim to understand you. (Oh…)
But I’ve been looking around
And I haven’t found anybody like you.
And there’s always another point of view,
A better way to do the things we do.
And how can you know me and I know you
If nothing is true?
Someone done someone wrong to these lads because the next song is “Old Enough”. A bitter rebuke of a younger lover … the song further enforces George Bernard Shaw’s idea that “youth is wasted on the young”:
Old Enough
You look pretty in your fancy dress
But I detect unhappiness
You never speak so I have to guess
You’re not free
There, maybe when you’re old enough
You’ll realize you’re not so tough
And some days the seas get rough
And you’ll see
You’re too young to have it figured out
You think you know what you’re talking about
You think it will all work itself out
But we’ll see
When I was young I thought I knew
You probably think you know too
Do you? Well do you?
I was naive just like you
I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do
Well, what you gonna do?
And how have you gotten by so far
Without having a visible scar?
No one knows who you really are
They can’t see
What’s you gonna do (what’s you gonna do)
What you gonna do now
What’s you gonna do (what’s you gonna do)
What you gonna do now
The only way you’ll ever learn a thing
Is to admit that you know absolutely nothing
Oh nothing
Think about this carefully
You might not get another chance to speak freely
Oh freely
Maybe when you’re old enough
Maybe when you’re old enough
Maybe when you’re old enough
You’re not free
You’re not free
Consoles of the Lonely has 14 songs, and there isn’t a bad one among them. All of them serve the definition of the band well — one who tells anecdotes in a skillful and meaningful way.
There is “Many Shades of Black”, which was one of the four singles off the album, that tells the story of a wrong love (a song that Adele would cover and perform live) … and then “These Stones Will Shout” about new love and the restraint that’s required:
Well you impress me so completely
I start obsessing to hear from you
Whatever you do, you do sweetly
It takes a lot to not take from you
Then there is the Terry Reid cover “Rich Kid Blues” … all of the song’s highlight just how skilled The Raconteurs are at creating their sense of deranged Americana type storytelling.
Perhaps none more deranged than “Carolina Dream” which is Jack White and Brendan Benson channeling William Faulkner by way of Sam Peckinpah.
Carolina Drama
I’m not sure if there’s a point to this story
But I’m going to tell it again
So many other people try to tell the tale
Not one of them knows the end
It was a junk-house in South Carolina
Held a boy the age of ten
Along with his older brother Billy
And a mother and her boyfriend
Who was a triple loser with some blue tattoos
That were given to him when he was young
And a drunk temper that was easy to lose
And thank god he didn’t own a gun
Well, Billy woke up in the back of his truck
Took a minute to open his eyes
He took a peep into the back of the house
And found himself a big surprise
He didn’t see his brother but there was his mother
With her red-headed head in her hands
While the boyfriend had his gloves wrapped around an old priest
Trying to choke the man
Ah Ah Ah
Billy looked up from the window to the truck
Threw up, and had to struggle to stand
He saw that red-necked bastard with a hammer
Turn the priest into a shell of a man
That priest was putting up the fight of his life
But he was old and he was bound to lose
The boyfriend hit as hard as he could
And knocked the priest right down to his shoes
Well, now Billy knew but never actually met
The preacher lying there in the room
He heard himself say, “That must be my daddy”
Then he knew what he was gonna do
Billy got up enough courage, took it up
And grabbed the first blunt thing he could find
It was a cold, glass bottle of milk
That got delivered every morning at nine
Ah Ah Ah
Billy broke in and saw the blood on the floor, and
He turned around and put the lock on the door
He looked dead into the boyfriend’s eye
His mother was a ghost, too upset to cry, then
He took a step toward the man on the ground
From his mouth trickled out a little audible sound
He heard the boyfriend shout, “Get out!”
And Billy said, “Not till I know what this is all about”
“Well, this preacher here was attacking your mama”
But Billy knew just who was starting the drama
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in disgrace, and
The white milk dripped down with the blood and the
Boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, “Daddy, why’d you have to come back here?”
His mama reached behind the sugar and honey, and
Pulled out an envelope filled with money
“Your daddy gave us this, “ she collapsed in tears
“He’s been paying all the bills for years”
“Mama, let’s put this body underneath the trees
And put Daddy in the truck and head to Tennessee”
Just then, his little brother came in
Holding the milk man’s hat and a bottle of gin singing
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la, la la la
Well now you heard another side to the story
But you wanna know how it ends?
If you must know, the truth about the tale
Go and ask the milkman
Like its predecessor, Consolers of the Lonely would be nominated for the Best Rock Album Grammy (losing to Green Day) in addition to Best Engineered Non-Classical Album (Winning).
Critics:
Kitty Empire of The Observer said: Consolers of the Lonely “finds [the Raconteurs] luxuriating in fancy stuff with kid-in-a-sweetshop enthusiasm. Minimalism is out, bombast is in; the detail, is, as ever, lip-smacking.”
Leah Greenblatt at Entertainment Weekly said: “…it’s as if the boys are channeling a high school parking lot’s history of doobies, Trans Ams, and RadioShack subwoofers into one glorious blast. The result is neither refined nor especially modern, but it still evokes the thrill of playing hooky on a Friday afternoon.”
Jon Pareles in The New York Times said: “The Raconteurs are singing, more often than not, about desperate characters. But that desperation only makes the crunch of the music more euphoric.”
Consolers of the Lonely addresses many different frustrations like insecurity and obsession and love and heartbreak. On this album, The Raconteurs aren’t quite so lonely … they’re channeling (rather effectively) their classic rock roots without sounding retro … and welcoming the sad bastard that lives inside all of us.