Elephant by The White Stripes

If the White Stripes have a problem, you can’t find it inside their latest CD. The album is a full-size, bull-rush of gorgeous distortion. If they have a problem, and I’m not sure they do, it’s on the outer cover. It’s Jack and Meg. They’re wearing red and white. There’s no bass. That’s peppermint. Jack’s got his own record label now. Are they related or what?

The last song on Elephant drolly addresses that question which occupied the nation’s garage rock trivia yen when the Stripes made national airwaves two years ago. Access Hollywood couldn’t answer it. Neither could Time Magazine. By now, we all now what’s up and I, for one, don’t really care. The fashion thing, some say, is wearing a little thin. Of course, the only reason this might matter is if you’re thinking about these people and all the television baggage when you’re listening to the music. That’s a phenomenon, I’m sure, not too uncommon these days, but totally unnecessary.

From the opening proclamation of “Seven Nation Army” to the wings of “There’s No Home For You Here” and right on through to the final gnarled, beach-blanket twist of “Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine” the music plain rocks. It handcuffs a thousand familiar sounds, from Zeppelin to MC5 to the AC/DC, and releases them in one mass jailbreak. It’s simply one of the greatest tribute albums ever not made by a tribute band… at least not yet. Admittedly, some riffs even sound lifted from other White Stripes albums, but it’s forgivable. The guitar work on “Ball and Biscuit” justifies every case of tinnitus and stupid-guitar-solo-face it spawns.

Ultimately, it’s fondness for the past prevents Elephant from treading any new ground. It won’t be mistaken for a modern masterpiece; it's arena rock in the cellar. But who wants it any other way? People are putting racing stripes on their Kia Spectra's and Dennis Miller is sounding like a neo-conservative. An album that is an escape from current times as opposed to a reflection of them is probably going to be more enjoyable for its efforts. The album is easy to love if you let yourself.

On a scale of listening devices, where transistor radios are a 1 and a DVD-Audio players are a 10, the new White Stripes rates an iPod, the numerical equivalent of an 8.5.

-Nathan Fuller

Mud Racing
by Jeff Savage

Savage burst onto the literary scene in 1995, publishing Monster Truck Wars and Truck and Tractor Pulling. He has successfully followed up those two giants with this opus, Mud Racing. If you are older than 8 or are used to your books having more words than pictures, this may not necessarily be the best option for you. On the other hand, much can be learned:

1. Shirts are optional at mud racing events.

2. Prize monies of up to $5,000 await the winner of these events.

3. In a mud racing shoot out anything can happen and sometimes does!

Here is an excerpt and an example of the thrilling prose:

I refuse to divulge whether or not Esh won this race, (many of you saw the results on ESPN – so don’t give it away to everyone else!) but let’s just say Esh never disappoints.

Mud Racing also features other renowned vehicles such as Mystic Warrior, Blue Ribbon Bandit, and Rapid Transit. Also, if you were wondering what ever happened to Tom Martin, you can find out here.

This may be a "children's book", but if you are interested in the sport of mud racing, or think you would like to discover the splendor which is mud racing, then it's probably right on your level. An entire chapter is given to the history of the sport and a glossary of terms is included.

Let’s all go to the races... the mud races!

-Steve Smith

A Review of Better Luck Tomorrow
by Bill Muller

I have never seen Better Luck Tomorrow. I originally thought it was a re-released John Woo movie, one of his really bad ones before he came to America and “the bad ones” became “the decent ones”. The fact that Asians were in the previews and Bulletproof Monk came out the same week didn’t help. Turns out, it’s a movie about cocaine high-school gangs. I know this and the rest of the plot thanks to Bill Muller, the reviewer for my local newspaper, The Arizona Republic.

Bill has a template for most every review he writes, including this one- start with some glib remarks about a warmed over plot or inept dialogue, then jokily reference the title. About the new Gwyneth Paltrow movie he states, “If this is the View From the Top, I'd hate to see the view from the bottom,” and of the aforementioned Chow-Yun Fat movie, “Bulletproof Monk should have taken a vow of silence.” With that business taken care of, he uses the remaining space to reveal the entire plot.

Movie trailers are bad enough, but Bill actually takes it to a new level, revealing to the reader all major and minor characters, central story arcs, sub-plots, good jokes, scary parts, and location of the final gun fight. Half the time, he will return to an actual critique for his final line and revisit an earlier theme, the title-as-gag, for one final jab, something like, “Unfortunately, Boat Trip leaves the laughs back on shore.” Other times however, he will go on to tell us the resolution of the movie, almost as if he has forgotten he is a critic, but rather a novelist, finishing up his exciting new book about a junior CIA agent named Cody Banks.

This wouldn’t be so bad if he worked for a small town weekly or a lame internet site, but he is ruining movies for an entire metropolitan area. They are predictable enough without his cliff notes. His five-year tenure casts doubt on whether or not he’ll be fired anytime soon, but when he is, I will say to him, "Better luck… next time."

On a scale of film journalism credibilty, where blurb-machine Byron Allen is a 1 and Rolling Stone's Peter Travers is a 10, Bill Muller's review of Better Luck Tomorrow rates a Gene Shalit, the numerical equivalent of a 0.

-Nathan Fuller