Jack White
“Over and Over and Over”
limited edition one-sided tri-color, 200 something copies pressed, complete with custom picture sleeve that will be slightly different from the standard released version
Do you guys know how pumped I am?
For the record, I first heard this monster riff in 2005 at Jack’s house while he and Meg were recording “Get Behind Me Satan.”
I am pretty sure that the “Blue Orchid” riff pre-dates this one by a few days, but in my mind, they exist hand-in-hand. While “Blue Orchid” smashed that recording process wide open and gave Jack the inspiration to make that album as bad ass as possible, THIS riff, inarguably, is ten times stronger. I feel like Jack was originally calling it “Thermonuclear Counter-Thrust” but maybe I’m just imagining that. I can find no contemporaneous documentation of that name.
There are two takes of demo recordings of this song from 2005 (with the riff played solely on fuzz bass). There are demo recordings from 2007 with the White Stripes trying it in rehearsal leading up to the tracking of the “Icky Thump” album. Imagine the guitar profile more in line with the octave-pedaled presence of the song “Icky Thump” and that’s a good start for understanding the 2007 version. I guess the Raconteurs tried it but I never heard any evidence, same with the Dead Weather. It was apparently the main track that Jack and Jay-Z worked on together in 2009, under the title “Ray Bans” or “Behind My Ray Bans” and although I’ve never heard that working, I’m told to imagine the phrase “Behind my Ray Bans” to coincide with the last five notes of the riff.
As Jack has already said, this had been his white whale. We sincerely considered including the ’07 demo as part of the “Icky Thump X” Vault package last year. I have no recollection of Jack ever previously giving me such an impassioned plea…”I just really think we shouldn’t put this on the Vault” he said. My response was pretty matter-of-factly, “Well, it’s your label, so please don’t feel like you have to convince me.” Maybe he was trying to convince himself?
Regardless, at the end of 2017 when Jack finally had played me this version you hear now, upon the end of the song, I looked at him and said “I’ve been waiting twelve years to hear this song with lyrics.”
The final version of this song is everything I’d ever dreamed it would be. It is my favorite moment on the album, with the coda to “Humoresque” being a close second. I cannot wait to see this monster unleashed unto a sell-out crowd at Little Caesar’s Arena, a stone’s throw away from the Gold Dollar where this whole mess got started.
I’ve got an extra copy of this limited tri-color to give away here. AUTOGRAPHED by Jack White, today, explicitly for this purpose. Don’t use my give-away here as an excuse to miss going to any number of the listening parties we’re throwing at record stores worldwide though. Even though we’re giving away tri-colors at the listening parties, none of those will be autographed. Man we spoil you kids.
As for the giveaway, post a comment, can be about whatever, but maybe talk about a significant wait you’ve endured in life. Can be funny, pithy, in iambic pentameter, whatever. The “best” comment will be solely determined by me. Please chime in by noon central time on Tuesday, March 13th.
***WINNER HAS BEEN CONTACTED***
I waiting at the first concert I was truly excited Abbott with anticipation. I got there early to be up front. You could feel the energy of the crowd just keep tightening like a guitar string. Amazing feeling that I am sure most music lovers know well. Still gets me every time.
Oh Mr. Blackwell, how I wish I could hear your comments and see your facial expressions while you read these posts. I can hardly wait for you to choose your winner.
I am a patient boy
I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait
My time is like water down a drain
Ian MacKaye
Still waiting but hopefull.
Longest and most “staying true to something meaning everything” kinda deal for me was the day Kurt Cobain died. I was too young to have seen Nirvana by like a year or two, parents said too young. As a bunch of people were, I was crushed. Later that day talking with everyone I remember Eddie Vedder singing with the Doors at the Rock Hall induction. Somehow in my 13 year old pure mind I knew that Nirvana would never ever play again (got older and realized a lot of lesser ethics bands would cash grab and this would not be the case) so my only hope was to wait until they were inducted to the Rock Hall of Fame to see them play, even if it was without Kurt. Again my 13 year old self just assumed they would be 1st ballot without question. Now that was a full 20 year wait. I talked to so many people over the years, marking it down with almost everyone. True to that I did go to the Rock Hall ceremony in Brooklyn, and even met Krist and Chad Channing outside! It was truly a surreal moment to remember that horrible day, that promise that I thought of for 20 years and had told so many people “I will go to this no matter what.” For some those Rock Hall things are silly, but that night and that one meant everything to me.
I think I pretty much deserve this because there was no listening party anywhere in South America so I didn’t had the chance to win it in the first place hahaha
Mine has to be my trip for the Detroit pressing opening. The journey started in Louisville, KY after work, around 5 pm. I took a pit stop in Columbus and to meet my friend who came with. Slept from about 10 pm to 1230 am and then drove to Detroit. We waited in line in the frigid, frigid cold but I HAD TO HAVE the De Stijl and White Stripes releases. Standing in the cold in the early morning with complete strangers waiting for records…this is something college aged me would have done…not husband and father of three with a 9-5! But we were committed. Got to spend time with an old friend and everyone we met in line were super friendly. We drove back to Columbus after selecting our goodies, delirious from lack of sleep, but the journey and the wait, was all worth it.
My wife took 3 days to answer my marriage proposal. We have now been together 23 years.
In 2004, David Bowie came to my hometown and I debated whether to go or not. The ticket price was out of my comfort zone, I couldn’t convince anyone to join me, and I worried whether he’d mostly just play new material. I wasn’t much of a concertgoer at that point. The next morning I read a raving review in the newspaper about how he just killed it with hit after hit. I vowed to see him next time he toured, but I’m still waiting for the man.
On the flipside of that intense regret, that moment spurred me into a new concert-going philosophy of not letting money, assumed setlist, companions, or even geography dictate whether I’d attend a show. The following year I saw The White Stripes for the first time at back-to-back shows at The Orpheum in Vancouver.