Along with The Strokes, and The Moldy Peaches the White Stripes approach to recording continues a refreshing trend toward bare-bones, low-fi production. Brother and sister, (maybe) Jack and Meg White create a killer offensive of raunchy, gut-level noise using only guitar and drums. (You'd think the lack of a bass-line would weaken the assault but you donÕt miss it). Their hybrid of blues and punk ("blunk"--as it's been dubbed) minces hard sucker-punches, with plenty of quirky moments of calm in a winning mix that recalls the hay-day of the Pixies. In fact Jack White's vocals often sound a good bit like Black Francis--treading the precipice between forced control and near hysteria. The album's only flaw is that it loses a little momentum during the last few tracks. Still it's a near-perfect album