I know, I never do what I say, I post anything I promise. So Now I say nothing, we'll see, well.
The White Stripes, it's over. Wednesday, February 2, 2011, cing hours and thirty-two minutes (GMT).
The White Stripes, was thirteen years of career. It was rock-blues-garage. It was Jack White, inventive man, the creator. The magician.
The White Stripes, it has been far too Seven Nation Army, but also (much) more than one hundred other songs, wonderful.
The White Stripes, it started a summer drive. It was the only CD we had, we listened to it for two weeks. (Juan, Tito, thank you.)
The White Stripes, is what made me discover the music, actually.
The White Stripes, it's six albums. All listened to some thoroughly.
The White Stripes, it will always be the group that I never had the chance to see them live. If I've seen Jack White (and I see him), the legendary duo will never play in front of me.
The White Stripes, it's been long suspected their departure. The anguish of Meg added to the fact that Jack was musically perpetually elsewhere (The Dead Weather, The Raconteurs, Third Man Records), it was felt ahead. But I would not believe it.
The White Stripes, they leave us with a tear in the corner of his eye. This news, I see a blur. If they leave, I leave my childhood.
The White Stripes, they we leave as they came: a little quietly, just nicely. Smooth as Third Man Records will continue to move the funds drawer from time to time ...
The White Stripes, it's over.
And it makes me sad. I just Do not Know What To Do With Myself.
The White Stripes, it's over.
And it goes well I myself have to do.
