Jack White No Name LP

Jack White announced the official release of his acclaimed 2024 album, No Name, following its clandestine white-label appearance at Third Man Records locations where customers were slipped, guerilla-style, free unmarked vinyl copies in their shopping bags. True to his DIY roots, this album was recorded, produced, and mixed by White at his Third Man Studio throughout 2023 and 2024, pressed to vinyl at Third Man Pressing, and released by Third Man Records.

With the surprise unveiling of No Name, fans proved that the rumblings of something mysterious can grow into the beautiful experience of a community sharing the excitement and energy of music and art. Third Man is thrilled to bring this music and mission to a wider audience with the announcement of the wide black vinyl release.

Surprise album is maestro's punkiest outing since White Stripes

It evokes the Stripes not with restless creativity but by situating White squarely within the realm of loose, raw, lo-fi garage rock. This shit rips. Coming from Jack White, what more could you want?

No Name is packed end to end with tracks that balance great riffs and catchy tunes

An old school rock 'n' roll triumph

Every Jack White fan should search No Name out. Sounding leaner and sharper than he has for some time, this supposedly throwaway release is one of his very best.

No Name has some of White's most memorable riffs since Blunderbuss and is his most red-blooded rock record since Elephant.

What really makes this release special is that No Name could easily be Jack White's best solo record to date and one of the best rock records released this year.

No Name does everything you want a Jack White rock record to do. It has bluesy tunes, heavy guitar riffs, eccentric lyrics and, perhaps most importantly, it goes hard.

No Name happens to be the most straightforward rock & roll album he has delivered in some time, a set of 13 tough guitar-based tunes with an abundance of swagger and a kick that melds the punky minimalism of the White Stripes with his well-documented obsession with Led Zeppelin.

The immediate joy of finally hearing the white-label No Name's official release is its grime-encrusted glory, its heavily salted, ugly-beautiful garage blues, and the raw, rough way that the entire self-produced package comes at you like a spiky Japanese cucumber slapping you hard in the face, repeatedly, for 13 songs in 43 minutes.