(t5!) Heroes Of The Zeroes Singles: #20: The White Stripes – Seven Nation Army (2003)

Re-examining the breakthrough of the run the White Stripes had this decade, the most fascinating quality about them is how for a band that seemed to busy themselves with bringing retro authenticity back to rock, they certainly relied copiously on cheap pop gimmickry. They dressed in color-coded outfits, they lied about their personal relationship to create mystique. They’ve been effective regardless—it was these that made The White Stripes appealing to a 21st Century audience deprived of blues or garage-rock artists in their music collections, which in turn made them an integral part of the zeroes pop culture. However, you couldn’t really see their inspirations like The Kinks and MC5 approving any of it.

With “Seven Nation Army”, there were no gimmicks. It was the seven guitar notes that were the be-all-and-end-all. Once called “saviors of rock”, their influence to zeroes rock was not nearly as pronounced as that designation—even if you believed every bit of the hype of the New Rock Revolution. But for the first time, or the first twenty or so times, that you heard that seven guitar-note intro, it got your energy boosted. It made you think that they can save anything from anywhere or anyone. It had a magnitude to it, that sense of celebrated splendor, which promises to stop you in your tracks for the next four minutes.

Of course I know now that it was actually Jack White’s guitar, not his bass that was conquering planets. It was the debate back then, especially by people still subscribing to those guitar magazines with tabbed out songs. After some thorough research, I discovered that it was actually the guitar run through an octave pedal to make it sound so low, which actually makes it a little bit easier for me to grasp how this song is played live. Although, never seeing them in concert, I still have to see it to believe how the Whites alone can duplicate “Seven Nation Army’s” enormity because on record (even on an eight-track), it sounds like the sky is falling.

It helps that Jack and Meg play the song at such a deliberate pace. Meg bashes unenthusiastically on her drum kit, keeping it simple enough so that her lack of skill don’t reveal itself, while Jack was cautious with his lyrics, singing about whatever it is he was singing about. Combined with that legendary guitar intro, the whole thing sounds so villainous. It’s such a contrast to their debut “Fell In Love With A Girl” (a classic in its own right), in which the clumsily execution made it sound like the song was actually made out of a garage. “Seven Nation Army” seems so calculated. It is akin to a knife-wielding horror movie villain chasing a victim with a steady walk—everyone from the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell know that it’s inescapable even if it seems like it’s not putting in the effort.

As massive as “Seven Nation Army” was (still is), The White Stripes never seemed like a band with staying mainstream power—Jack White quickly revealed himself to be pretty crazy, and for all the early pop publicity stunts, the Stripes were always more of a cult band than anything. Even after this song becoming a sports anthem, making it the indiest entry in Jock Jams 32, it seemed like their MTV days were over after titling the following album Get Behind Me Satan and making videos with Floria Sigismondi. They still churn out a couple of capable songs per album and their side projects like The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather have made a moderate dent on pop culture as well. Critics may have wanted the Stripes to take the title of the 21st Century Saviors of Rock, but I’m not sure if that was ever really in their makeup. But during a period of time in 2003, they absolutely made everyone quiver with seven bullying guitar notes.