It's easy to see why Jack White wanted to produce rock'n'roll lifer Wanda Jackson after watching just one two-and-a-half minute YouTube video. The performance clip was taped in 1958 for L.A. TV show "Town Hall Party" and finds Jackson roaring through an Elvis Presley hit single called "Hard Headed Woman". As written, the song doesn't portray women in the strongest light-- "a hard-headed woman is the thorn in the side of a man," goes the 50s-macho hook. But Jackson flips it-- and gives the thing a good hard jolt, too. When she sings the chorus, she adds a blustery "you betcha, yeah!" While many young women of her time were content to pine after Elvis, she dated him while in her teens and symbolically kicked his ass with his own song. But the most startling and awesome thing about the "Hard Headed Woman" clip may be Jackson's badass introduction: "We think this is one of the most beautiful love songs that's ever been written." Kathleen Hanna would most certainly approve.
Jackson's 50s sides would justly earn her the title of "Queen of Rockabilly," and The Party Ain't Over is a reference to her 1958 hit "Let's Have a Party". But, since that early success, the singer recorded many albums of more traditional country, blues, and gospel over the last 50 years. And while her voice was so galvanizing on those early singles-- her signature growl could match any man's-- it would later prove to be tender, lonesome, and gorgeous without a hint of the toughness that originally made her famous. Delving into her catalog now, some of her most lasting music may not be as revolutionary as her gender-busting rockabilly, but it's also less novel; her classy 1964 LP Blues in My Heart in particular is a timeless work, both loose and graceful. But, with The Party Ain't Over, Jack White aims to reconnect the 73-year-old Jackson with her teenage style by any means necessary. So we get truckloads of overzealous horns that sound ripped off from his buddy Conan's late-night band, White's own fuzzed-out guitar, bustling drums, and cartoon-y slide work. The wild excess often ends up shoving Jackson to the sidelines on her own album.
The last time White worked with one of his grandmotherly female idols was on Loretta Lynn's devastatingly personal and loving Van Lear Rose. But there are differences between that project and this one. Van Lear Rose had Lynn writing most of the songs, and White treated them with reverence while maintaining an airy live feel. Jackson didn't write any songs on The Party Ain't Over, which isn't terribly notable in itself considering she hailed from a pre-singer-songwriter era and wrote few of her own tunes. But the songs on the record-- mostly picked by White-- often come off as forced, unfairly anachronistic or both. When the too-loud trumpets and juke-joint piano push Jackson on opener "Rip It Up", it feels a little uncomfortable. It's almost the same uneasy vibe you get when watching that fake old guy dancing up a storm in those Six Flags commercials-- something just ain't right there.
Of course, White's intentions are good here, and chances are many people (including myself) wouldn't even be paying attention if he weren't involved. And if the point was to get folks to revisit this legendary singer's legacy and grant her much-overdue appreciation, mission accomplished. But White doesn't help Jackson make any new classics on The Party Ain't Over. Annoyingly, the last track suggests it didn't have to be that way. "Blue Yodel #6" ditches all the instrumental flotsam as it finds Jackson singing against only White's twanging acoustic guitar. The singer's weathered-yet-vibrant voice and personality finally don't have to battle for the spotlight. It's quite easily the best thing here, as it hearkens back to her post-rockabilly 60s records and shows this undervalued pioneer doesn't need to party to have a good time.
