I was thrilled to hear the White Stripes were inducted in the Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame on Saturday - finally, and very well-deserved, as far as I'm concerned.
Not the Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame, but places that foster art, regardless - the Rudolfinum in Prague.
Jack and Meg were such a breath of fresh air. I remember hearing their version of Dolly Parton's Jolene one night, and being instantly and irrevocably hooked (which is why I'm kicking off this week's #threetunetuesday with it).
[Jack]: 'I'm in the right place at the wrong time?!'
[crowd]: 'Yeah.'
[Jack]: 'That's how I feel every day.'
I felt, like many, he was speaking directly to me. Jack was such a glorious permission to be weird and not only to accept that, but to embrace it. Time and again, I've been astounded by the quirkiness (and genius) of his lyrics. Go to any Jack album (or, for that matter, Dead Weather or White Stripes album) and it won't take you long to realize how intricate this man's thinking is. And the older he gets, the more winding the stories seem to become. It's quite something to observe.
I didn't get to see people like Bob Dylan grow old, or David Bowie, to observe the way they change, that their ideas shift and morph as years go by, but I'm getting to see that with Jack, and I think that's pretty spectacular.
I'm using appropriate compression for
My inappropriate confessions for
Someone I guess who might need it more
And true to form, Jack's acceptance speech (actually, do you accept an induction? or do you just say thanks?) was utterly brilliant. He has a way of being extremely relevant with what he says, and extremely real. As someone who's spent years battling our slow descent into torpitude and idiocy as a society, shunning some tech advancements as brain-rot conveyors, he took full advantage of his minutes on stage to deliver the perfect message.
To the young artists, I want to say get your hands dirty. Drop the screens and get out in your garage, or in your little room, and get obsessed. Get obsessed with something, you know, get passionate. We all want to share in what you might create.
So to the point, so relevant, and so genuine. With so much anxiety and depression on the rise, we seem to struggle sometimes as a society with saying the right thing to young people. It's a tremendously hard road, if you choose to walk it, and how do I say your work might be of value, that it will not all be in vain?
Precisely like this. We all want to share in what you might create. What a beautiful sentiment to send out to kids maybe just starting to flirt with a guitar. That their potential is immense, that the world inherently needs and might appreciate their light.
Personally, I also resonated with the getting obsessed part, the weight of what's meant, saying, well, if you're gonna treat it like a hobby, that's what it will be. Give it your all. As Matthew McCounaghey famously puts it, quoting the advice his own father gave him as a young actor, don't half-ass it.
Or as Bukowski phrased it, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start.
On its own, though, it might be a bit detrimental. A bit off-putting. Makes it sound a bit too damn hard to someone who's only just small and figuring out whether or not they should dare at all.(and you can be small, I think, at any age)
That's why it works if you pair it with something like, the world wants to know you. You might have something worth sharing. This is all going towards a purpose. And it doesn't seem obvious, just how often you question the existence of that purpose, unless you've been there, as Jack clearly has.
And speaking of amazing people who inspire and make you feel, in your smallest moments, you also might have something worth contributing to this world:)
