So, you guys have all heard the new Jack White-produced single from the Insane Clown Posse about Mozart and licking butts, right? No? GOOD. If you haven’t yet been subjected to the latest “WTF Jack White” moment, click away from this post right now and pretend you never heard that such an atrocity against rock and roll, mankind, and poor old Mozart ever existed. I refuse to be responsible for the trauma this music is bound to induce.
If you’re one of the unfortunate souls who has heard the new single, consider this post your personal therapy. Let’s all be here for each other as we cope. The first stage in Jack White/ICP collab recovery is acceptance: This single has happened. Take all the time you need to let that process. We must first accept this fact, then we can work to lessen the pain.
Remember, there’s no use in blaming yourself. We didn’t do anything to make Jack White think we would want this single. Or perhaps he thinks we did. This is the part where we beg the cosmos for an answer (much like ICP does in their ridiculous song, “Miracles“). Why, Jack? Why??? Has the music culture become too detached, too ironic? Is this your way of getting back at us for jumping on the hipster bandwagon, by shoving obviously terrible tosh in our face, waiting to see if we’ll lap it up thanks to your big name and our culture’s current obsession with approving of the unapprovable? Really, Jack, be fair: I can’t think of a single act humankind has ever committed that deserves a punishment as harsh and deflating as The-Single-That-Must-Not-Be-Named. Doling out this level of pain for a crime as cheap and easy to commit as trying too hard to be cool is just cruel.
You Die 7 Days After Seeing This Image
“Leck Mich Im Arsch” (we’re progressing here) is possibly the worst song I’ve ever heard. Only 14 year old boys who still giggle at Weird Al tracks and heartily appreciate the over-usage of the word “ass” would ever even come close to classifying this track as “good music.” A teaser trailer for the single makes it clear that White isn’t taking it seriously, BUT WHY THE HELL IS JACK WHITE MAKING MUSIC THAT HE DOESN’T TAKE SERIOUSLY?
Jack has previously worked on comedy singles from Conan and Colbert, but those were actual comedians, people who really are funny, not just ironically funny. Beyond that, Jack and Conan are friends, and the Colbert single was for a good cause. I could deal with the idea of White and ICP working together, and I could definitely accept the single (maybe even grow to like it) if it seemed like White really believed in it, but that’s not the case. It seems the thing I’m left to deal with is White’s new, solidifying identity as a complete, unrepentant douche-bag.
Jack White is one of the best lyricists of our generation, an amazing guitarist, and an overall fantastic musician. To put it mildly, I’m a huge fan. This is the man that gave us the heart-wrenching and poetic “300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues.“ The man who shredded so awesomely throughout “Ball and Biscuit,” it makes my knees weak just thinking about it. This is the man who works harder than any rock star in the business to not only create a career for himself, but raise awareness about great musicians gone by, breathing life into otherwise stale acts. If he doesn’t believe in the current music scene enough to willfully fill it with trash like “Leck Mich Im Arsch,” I feel a bit shaken, confused, even nauseated. Maybe I just haven’t learned how to hate him.
I’m not a fan of the Foo Fighters, but when Dave Grohl stood up at last weekend’s VMAs after winning the Best Rock Video award (The Black Keys were robbed) and said, “Never lose faith in real rock and roll music. You might have to look a little harder, but it’s always going to be there,” my heart grew three sizes. “Dave Grohl’s right,” I told myself. “There’s hope yet for rock and roll music, despite all the pretentious B.S. floating through the airwaves today and the overabundance of rock-slash-everything. Just listen to Grandaddy Grohl!”
Less than a week later, Jack White came along to shrink my heart back down, two sizes too small. But it’s time to let go of the hurt. Whether or not White believes in the future of rock and roll, we can still stand tall, with hope in our hearts. Perhaps we’ve learned a lesson about turning average rockers into unimpeachable icons. There’s room for growth in the wake of this single’s tragedy. I just have a few words left for Mr. White. Call it closure:
Jack, I like the fact that you’re trying to have fun. You should! But there’s a way to have fun that will last, fun that really shocks the rock world and pushes things forward, like “Wild Thing” did in its day, and then there’s a way to have fun that makes everyone who ever called you a genius feel a little hurt, jaded and betrayed.
We’re here to help you through your trying times, Jack. Being without Karen and The White Stripes must be difficult, we understand! But please don’t spit ICP in our face. That stuff won’t wash off for days. We know that, deep down, you love and respect good music. Let’s get past this urge to rage against the scene and go back to that happy place together. And please, leave the clowns at home.
