Former touring Raconteur/Queen of the Stone Age guitarist Dean Fertita, who also plays an electric keyboard, and bassist Jack Lawrence, also a Raconteur, propel rather than envelop. The band displays a consistency in its approach--White evokes star wattage only when he comes to the front of the stage to sing and play guitar--and is admirably in synch at such an early age.
Much of the music has a throwback quality, specifically to a 1969 blues-based ethos when garage bands were looking to take a step beyond the rudimentary 12-bar structure. Imagine those late '60s turning points when the Yardbirds, Animals or Ten Years After had to decide whether to experiment or retreat. The Dead Weather uses that precipice as a springboard.
Truth is, most experienced bands in the summer of Woodstock found artistic freedom and solace in extended solos, but as White and his bandmates rewind time, the answer lies in compact expressions of emotions untenable for the peace-and-love generation: tension, anger and disappointment.
Mosshart, her long black hair hanging down over her eyes and the bulk of her face for much of the evening, plays rage and aloofness with equal aplomb. When White and Mosshart shared a microphone, the sexual energy gave the band an entirely different visceral appeal. Same could be said when the band delivered its two slower tunes; the one White sings drips with the bluesy energy of Eric Burden, Mosshart's ballad exposed a furtive side.
Throughout the performance, clues abounded that this quartet has a distinct appreciation for Led Zeppelin's songs that clock in at less than 5 minutes. It would have been interesting to get the take of one audience member, Led Zep guitarist Jimmy Page, but he ducked out quickly after The Dead Weather's final encore.
As usual with any White outfit, visuals stood out. Each musician wore black and all instruments were an off-white cream and came in non-standard sizes--big Gretches and a rectangular Bo Diddley six-string among them.