Is Meg White a good drummer?
Yes. Here’s why.
Meg White. Three Foot Giant/Woodshed Inc/Kobal/Shutterstock
The White Stripes was one of the more iconic duos of the early 2000s. Their anthemic Seven Nation Army off of elephant still has one of the most recognisable guitar licks of all time.
As it so happens, this month Elephant turns 20. And the age-old debate about Meg White’s drumming was once again sparked when journalist Lachlan Markay posted (and since deleted) a Tweet bashing Meg White’s drumming abilities.
What followed was an army (no pun intended) of people coming to Meg White’s defence: Questlove, Laura Jane Grace, Geoff Barrow, Ruban Nielson, and Jack White’s ex-wife Karen Elson. Jack White himself chimed in (although not directly), with a poem in her honour.
I know very little about drumming. Despite asking for a drum kit for Christmas at the age of seven, my technicality never evolved past haphazardly banging on my child-sized kit to the dismay of my poor parents. But what I do know is world-building and purpose. And Meg White’s drumming matches the purpose of the White Stripes.
“I appreciate other kinds of drummers who play differently, but it’s not my style or what works for this band. I get [criticism] sometimes, and I go through periods where it really bothers me. But then I think about it, and I realise that this is what is really needed for this band.”
Meg White is a very elusive person. Beyond her music, we know virtually nothing about her. She describes herself as “very shy” and has not been seen in the media since 2009. Jack White has been criticised for overshadowing her, but she disproved this: in the film Under The Great White Northern Lights Jack White asked her what she has to say to those who make these claims. She said, “it has nothing to do with you”.
Yet her music is riotous and—to use Mr. Markay’s mocking words—carefully crafted. As of The White Stripes, she’s crucial in building their personality: child-like, simple, and minimalist. The band is not just about music, but it’s an experiment in aesthetic. Jack White’s obsession with stripping everything down to its bare bones was a big part of the band’s identity. The colours: black, white, red; the music: drums, guitar, singing.
Yes, the drums are simple, but that’s the point. As it was for a lot of the music that inspired The White Stripes. Born in Detroit in the 90s, they took influence from garage rock, punk, and blues—all genres which prioritise emotion over technique. Meg White has a deep understanding of this music and of the goals of the band. She herself has addressed the criticism, saying “I appreciate other kinds of drummers who play differently, but it’s not my style or what works for this band. I get [criticism] sometimes, and I go through periods where it really bothers me. But then I think about it, and I realise that this is what is really needed for this band.”
“The band is not just about music, but it’s an experiment in aesthetic.”
Elsewhere, Jack White has acknowledged the deliberate childishness of the band: “There's definitely a childishness in it. From Meg's standpoint, the drumming is real primitive and I really love that. My voice, I think, sometimes sounds like a little kid.” This youth is palpable in Rag and Bone, one of my personal favourites. The music thrives in their childish interplay, reminiscent of scavengers, with her ad-libbing and thunderous drums creating the beloved messy atmosphere. Likewise, Hypnotize would simply not have the same buildup without the introduction of that snare, the release only finally being granted by her cymbals.
Technical complexity does not always equate high quality, and simplicity does not equal shoddy work. The same arguments have not been said about Paul Cook’s drumming, or the simplistic guitar work of Johnny Ramone. If banging bar chords and playing all downstrokes is admired in these punk guitarists, why is the same admiration not applied to Meg White’s drumming?
Women often have to be phenomenal to receive the same level of admiration as an above-average man. It’s an unfortunate, exhausting fact of life. Yet to quote Jack White himself, “Her femininity and extreme minimalism are too much to take for some metal heads and reverse-contrarian hipsters. She can do what those with ‘technical prowess’ can’t. She inspires people to bash on pots and pans. For that, they repay her with gossip and judgment. In the end she’s laughing all the way to the Prada handbag store. She wins every time.”
Despite her extreme timidity, her drumming style is unapologetically her own. She has faced criticism and yet never compromised her style. She brings honesty to the music, playing it in her own way and therefore being irreplaceable in what The White Stripes were trying to achieve.
Songs like Icky Thump, Bone Broke, or A Martyr For My Love For You would not be the same without her kick drum thumping like a heartbeat. Black Math, I’m Slowly Turning Into You, I Fell In Love With a Girl and Screwdriver wouldn’t have the same feel without her own particular thrashing, controlled-chaos wall of cymbals. She brings the irresistible sticky, dripping swagger to Why Can’t You Be Nicer To Me, I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself, and Hello Operator.
In the band’s Little Series, she shines in the bluesy Little Bird, being the epitome of cool. In Little Acorns, she joins the percussive piano after the inspirational monologue about Janet and the squirrel in a heart-palpitating sequence. In the Irish-inspired Little Ghost her subdued performance works like a sparkle of glitter, that little extra dose of fun that a child places on a macaroni picture frame. On Little Cream Soda, she gets rowdy and lets loose in those crashing cymbals, making the perfect soundtrack to throwing plates to a wall or smashing a TV with a bowling ball.
Her talents are not restricted to drumming. In the rare occasions when we hear her voice (sung or spoken), she does not disappoint. We hear her sweet voice come through in In The Cold Cold Night. She shows her strength in the feminist cry of Passive Manipulation (a mere 30 seconds of telling us: “women listen to your mothers, don’t just succumb to the wishes of your brothers. Take a step back, take a look at one another, you need to know the difference between a father and a lover”). She knows what she’s doing.
“She can do what those with ‘technical prowess’ can’t. She inspires people to bash on pots and pans.”
The White Stripes have never been intricate, nor have they ever tried to be. It’s a band about stripping away the excess, trimming the fat and leaving only the essentials (how very Rick Rubin of them). The drums are inevitable in every track, not overshadowing Jack White’s guitar or vocals but adding so much to it. Everything works together in perfect harmony, and this could not be achieved if perhaps Meg White prioritised the prog-rock tendencies of overly complicated drum licks. She is the heartbeat of every track, bringing life to everything she touches. So much so that the band's name itself was inspired by Jack and Meg's last name and the peppermint candies Meg loved to eat.
Although she has been dubbed one of the greatest musicians of all time by the likes of Rolling Stone, NME, Universal Music Group, Clash, Tom Morello, and Dave Grohl, she doesn’t need this praise. Her talent speaks for itself. No one else can drum like her, and no one else should try to.
