It's fast, dark, loud. It's part 60s garage, part 70s hard rock, part eerie folk right out of Marcus's "Old Weird America." Add a dash of 80s glam and new orleans jazz, and shine it up with a fuzzy over-saturated sound that could only come from Jack White's magical 8-track.
Alison Mosshart's passionate, angry, caustic singing blends perfectly with Fertita's cutting, overdriving guitar. Oh Alison Mosshart, brutal slayer of our hearts. She's like if Robert Plant and Janis Joplin had a daughter who died and was reincarnated into the dark angel of blues. Mosshart's lyrics are characteristically dark, banshee temper tantrum ballads. Her style is somewhat similar to her previous work with The Kills, but she seems more wild and unhinged with The Dead Weather.
And as other reviewers have noted, even though this is a rock super-group, the sound is entirely new, entirely their own. But a few things are familiar: the raw but pure sound of Jack White's recording process, and his tradition of ending an album with a simple, enigmatic, low-fi folk song.
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