Now, it's not just lately that we've seen fresh faces o'er this land east and west, rockin' sweaty garage pedigree sounds to throngs of believers. But bands like the Hellacopters, the International Noise Conspiracy, and -- most famously -- the Strokes are perhaps bringing about a revival of sorts. The White Stripes are of the same (Son) house, robed in the same choir colors and praising the same gods but in a cathedral all their own. In songs boasting hooks so blatantly smashing and bare and rhythms so nude, concise beats of silence throughout enhance the tunes' potency to entice us and convert our starving souls into reverie. This is loud dancing. In the driving, dusty stomp acoustics of "Hotel Yorba," the fuzzed hop of "Fell in Love With a Girl," the dark organ drama of the love-bashing "The Union Forever," and the sweet-strummed innocence of "We're Going to be Friends," White Blood Cells mines timeless traditions with riotously moving results. Hallelujah!