Support came from Jack White’s chums, the Greenhornes, who, after a couple of flat openers, grew in confidence to increase the quality of their bluesy, rockabilly style foot-tappers. Hopefully, with a real definitive song in their armoury and a bit of Jack’s influence, they could become another great export from the mid-west.
 | | The White Stripes (pic: Karen McBride) |
With the Greenhornes’ departure, the stage was prepared for the White Stripes. A team of roadies dressed like undertakers take incredible care in setting up what has to be one of the most elegant and ambient sets ever. A red and white garden of Eden, complete with trees, a huge pulsating red apple, Jack and Meg voodoo dolls and an incredible array of colour coordinated instruments, gave the Apollo stage a real air of mystery. Diving straight for their instruments from the second they emerge, Jack and Meg bowled straight into a wall of virtuosic guitar fuzz before jumping to Blue Orchid, a song worthy of lighting the fuse on any show. Just how they create such a racket between them is incredible. Meg, to the left, furiously crashes away on her red kit, while Jack hypnotically flips between two microphones and torturing the life out of his guitar.
 | | The White Stripes (pic: Karen McBride) |
The show delves through the likes of Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground, I Think I Smell A Rat and Now Mary before an incredible piano-led My Doorbell. There’s a furiously paced Hotel Yorba that sends the crowd into a frenzy, followed by a beautiful acoustic interlude that climaxes with the wondrous, child-like innocence of We’re Going To Be Friends. Jack’s presence and energy throughout was remarkable and encapsulates his superstar status. There’s even a wry quip about whether he’d become a Mancunian if he married one which resulted in Jack deciding to “take his chances” - queue screams from his adoring female fans. The White Stripes seem to have it all and don’t look like losing it: brilliant songs, incredible charisma and a real lovable quality. Following a brief exit, Jack and Meg returned for another half hour as an encore. Seven Nation Army, dedicated to “some Manchester musician who says we need a bassist” (Liam Gallagher anyone?), explodes like a missile before it really is time to say goodnight. Ending with The Nurse, a lesser known track from Get Behind Me Satan, rock’s most famous duo wandered to the front of the stage for a bow and a genuinely heartfelt “thank you”. On tonight’s showing The White Stripes can surely be classed as one of the all-time greatest ever live bands. Two people managing to play for nearly two hours and keep a sell out crowd baying for more is, in itself, a tremendous fete. To do it with so much style and quality is incredible. Two hours was nowhere near long enough. | 
