Review

By Ben Avery | 14/07/2026

Following the back-to-basics triumph of No Name, expectations for Frozen Charlotte were always going to be sky high. That 2024 record felt like a genuine creative rebirth, reconnecting Jack White with the ragged garage-blues attack that first made The White Stripes one of the defining rock bands of the century. While Frozen Charlotte continues down that same road, it rarely finds the same sense of surprise. The opening one-two punch of G.O.D. And The Broken Ribs and Derecho Demonico wastes little time making its intentions clear. White is in full guitar hero mode, piling distorted riffs on top of hammering rhythms while delivering his lyrics with the evangelical swagger that's become one of his trademarks. It's loud, relentless and undeniably thrilling in short bursts. The trouble is that Frozen Charlotte often mistakes intensity for variety. Where No Name constantly shifted gears, balancing crushing blues rock with hooks and unexpected melodic detours, this record spends too much time charging headlong in the same direction. Tracks such as There's Nobody There and Raising The Grain boast plenty of muscle but circle familiar ideas without ever developing them into anything especially memorable. That's not to say White has suddenly forgotten how to write compelling rock music. You'll Never Fix Me carries the snarling attitude that has long made his best work so infectious, while I Can't Believe What I'm Hearing injects a welcome dose of melody into the record's otherwise uncompromising assault. Throughout, White's guitar playing remains predictably spectacular, veering between bluesy grit and gloriously unhinged solos that few of his contemporaries could hope to match. Yet those moments only reinforce what's missing elsewhere. Too often the songs feel like vehicles for another blistering guitar workout rather than fully realised compositions. Even at a relatively lean 42 minutes, the album begins to feel repetitive as one overdriven riff blurs into the next. Frozen Charlotte is far from a disappointment. Fans looking for another helping of White's raw, analogue rock'n'roll will find plenty to enjoy, and many of these songs will undoubtedly come alive on stage. But coming after the exhilarating rediscovery of No Name, this follow-up feels more like a victory lap than another leap forward. It's heavy, fiery and played with absolute conviction, but for one of modern rock's great restless innovators, simply repeating a winning formula feels strangely conservative.