Jack White weaves the audience into an elaborate web in The Raconteurs’ “Carolina Drama”
Personally, I’ve always seen Jack White as the greatest guitarist in history. I haven’t loved all of his recent decisions with his solo projects, but his talent in writing songs has never ceased to amaze me.
It difficult to pinpoint the best of White’s works, but of his individual songs, there is none that come close to the brilliance of “Carolina Drama” from The Raconteurs’ sophomore record. The lyrics themselves are pretty straightforward save a few symbols or implications, but the music makes it rhetorical.
If I were an English teacher, this would be the song I would show my students to demonstrate pace. The song starts off slow as you get ready and comfortable to listen to White’s story, but once the climax hits, it’s loud, it’s fast, the words are jumbled and difficult to understand.
I’m not sure if there’s a point to this story, but I’m going to tell it again
So many other people try to tell the tale, not one of ’em knows the end…
After the first bit of just White and an acoustic guitar, the song begins to add more depth to the instrumental parts: including drums, heavier strumming, and even an electric guitar lick. And then the female vocals fill the break after “trying to choke the man,” like an ominous wind that is quieter and smoother than the rest of the song; the music is frozen in shock as Billy watches the boyfriend murdering the priest.
The next section continues at the same pace as Billy throws up, hears himself say “That must be my daddy,” and grab a bottle of milk. The same pause as earlier happens, showing Billy’s denial at the scene in front of him. He is, in a way, not really in the moment, but watching himself act on it. This pause, even quieter than before and more stale, is as if Billy is debating whether he should get involved or not. It is a foretelling of misfortune or a dark future, and as it crescendos into the next line, the song builds up a sense of anger and determination in White’s lyrics and voice.
The song continues with less pauses between lines and vocals that shout above the rest of the music. It is at this point that the listener is now involved in the drama; White has weaved this elaborate mess of a tale that you are now burdened with the knowledge — the knowledge of a murder. The story told in the lyrics are so heavy and mashed together that it leaves your head spinning. “La la la la,” White sings — you didn’t see anything, you’ll find no blood on these hands.
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in disgrace, and
The white milk dripped down with the blood, and the
Boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, “Daddy, why’d you have to come back here?”
The color white is one of the main symbols hidden in the lyrics. The milk dripping with the blood — something white stained red; the symbol of the staining of Billy, the innocent boy now being involved in the drama — the literal murder weapon delivered religiously “every morning at nine.” And then, it abruptly ends. Because it simply — doesn’t. The little brother walks in, “Holding the milkman’s cap and a bottle of gin.” So at the end, when everything slows and becomes quiet, if I must ask the milkman to know, I’m not sure that I want to.
