Jack and Meg White, who comprise the White Stripes, are the finest purveyors of blues-based rock working today. They understand that such music does not need to be dressed up with grunge, emo, hip-hop, punk, or any other sub-genre. They believe that blues is the foundation of rock, and they pursue their devotion to this chosen form relentlessly and expertly on Icky Thump. Their sixth album, and first to be recorded in a modern studio (owned by country star Martina Mcbride!), Icky Thump is not that far removed from the simplicity of their first few records. Still relying almost exclusively on their guitar-drum interplay (trumpets, a clavioline, bagpipes (!) and a few other instruments do make unobtrusive appearances here and there), Icky Thump proceeds with a bare-bones swagger and a glorious garage-rock panache. The closest touchstone is definitely Led Zeppelin, as Jack's vocals carry some of the upper register tones of Robert Plant and pseudo-sister Meg's drums carry the wallop of John Bonham at his most basic. There are more guitar solos here than on previous albums, but they are of the short-and-sweet variety. There are also some songs that rely on Jack's acoustic strumming and his electric slide-work, both again recalling Zeppelin. The lyrics are largely a playful hoot, as on "Rag And Bone," where the duo exchange hilarious asides and sound like they're having the time of their lives. Indeed, a fun, good-timey vibe pervades almost the entire album, perhaps most deliriously on their cover of the Patti Page nugget, "Conquest". They transform this song into a blues-rock, heavy metal samba, with licks traded between Jack's guitar and that aforementioned trumpet. There are also nods to Jack's Scottish heritage on "Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn" (with those bagpipes) as well as on Meg's spoken word follow-up, "St. Andrew". But Icky Thump is primarily a straightforward rock-stomper of stripped-down electric blues that contains plenty of twists and turns to ensure that things never get heavy-handed or dull. Jack White stated in a recent interview in MOJO Magazine that he would like the White Stripes to be remembered as part of the blues canon, as "the first male/female two-piece attack on it in the electric world." A few more albums like this one and their place in rock history may well reflect just that. Rock lovers, look here before venturing elsewhere.

The Cloud Of Unknowing is London-based James Blackshaw's sixth album, but his first to be widely available stateside. It has immediately started me on the hunt for his other five. An absolutely gorgeous all-instrumental work for 12-string guitar, with the occasional sprinklings of violin and percussion, The Cloud Of Unknowing consists of five songs, four of which nudge up to or past the ten-minute mark. Blackshaw gives the tunings he used for each song, but woe be to any player who tries to imitate his gentle, yet lightning-fast approach. It often sounds like there are three guitars going at once, with one underpinning the tune with constant cascade-like runs circling the chords and the other two picking out melody and bass lines (no guitars were overdubbed). The title track sets the opening tone, with simple, chiming, strummed chords working their way into superb finger-picked melodies and hooks, all the time underpinned by constant glissando-like runs. Blackshaw also slips in experimental interludes and eastern-sounding modalities that add to the overall ambiance of the music without diluting its impact. Certainly recalling the heyday of acoustic virtuosos like John Fahey and Leo Kottke, The Cloud Of Unknowing builds on these predecessors to create its own unique space. File under folk if you must, but this music is edgy enough that it transcends such boundaries and has appeal for lovers of rock, jazz, and world music, as well.