March 1997 ear candy by Jack Smith |
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Rocking in Your Dockers
You were a punk rocker. But the Buzzcocks got fat (punk rock is the
rock for
skinny rockers) and then Green Day had a million selling record. Now you're
approaching 30 and you're too old to still be angry. There had to be an
easier way.
And lounge was the way. It was as easy as snapping up
a couple of Dean Martin and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy records and throwing on a
suit. I'd love to just point the finger and laugh, but I remember getting a
Bryan Ferry
haircut because I thought his "Boys and Girls" record was the shit. So, I'm
not casting
any stones. Not at all. I'm here to help. Show you that there's another
way.
While the guys in Combustible Edison would like you to believe that lounge
is "more
punk than punk," they're lying. (I can't blame them for wanting to try and
sell a couple
records, but, c'mon, they don't really expect us to believe that, do they?)
How punk can
you be when you have gel in your hair? Uh huh.
If punk has been coopted and lounge ain't cutting it, then what really is
more punk than
punk as we approach the millenium? The answer is fairly complex,
but I can sum it up in two words: redneck rock.
While you may believe that rednecks are "bad," or unclean or whatever,
consider the hard jammin', beer drinkin', gun shootin',
massive guitar solo rocknfuckinroll. You're thinking Skynyrd,
now, I'm sure. I'm thinkin' it extends from the far
south (ie. AC/DC) right through Jacksonville to Minneapolis on to
New York City with brief runs to Texas for beer and steaks. Rednecks are
where you
find them and you don't just find them in the south. No matter where you
go the
rednecks all look the same. Only the accent changes.
Their bands range from the old school of Motorhead and David Allen Coe to
Scratch Acid and Travis Tritt. Redneck music is better than cocktail music
because in the lounge no one ever loses their dog/wife/truck, shoots
someone, huffs some lighter
fluid and gasoline (for that double super buzz) and washes it all down with
a Jack
Pepsi. But redneck rock serves a more important purpose. It provides the
ulitmate
soundtrack to breaking the law.
Let's face it, if you're going to drive drunk - and you really shouldn't,
I'm just saying "What if..." - if you're going to drive drunk, what do you
want to have on your car stereo right before you Jackson Pollock that Civic
into a curley maple, Esquivel or "Flirtin' With Disaster?" Thought so.
The hipster crowd is still drinking overpriced martinis while listening to
Ferrante and Teicher and sitting on a velvet couch in a smoke filled bar.
I say, "Man made fibers are for halter tops, baby." Hanging in bars where
everyone is "cool" and no one gets arrested or gets their ass kicked is no
longer my idea of fun, that's for damn sure. The lounge scene has no sense
of danger and it's
boring the shit out of me. Before I get to middle age, I need to commit
some crime. I'm not talking about bank robbing or child molesting
just a few ways to go play outside and stick it to the man one more time
before fading away.
There are plenty of ways to break the law and once you've
made that decision, you've made a new lifestyle choice. And for those of
you who didn't grow up where redneck music was regularly heard hourly on
bad AOR stations in the south will need some advice to the appropriate
music to match a particular crime. I will be your felonious sommelier.
Since this is a "music" column and not a police blotter I'll name the song
and describe the crime perfectly suited to the song.
Sister Double Happiness: "The Whipping Song"
You're ready to rock and loaded for bear with a
.357 magnum. There's no better way to
blow off a little steam than shooting out some street lights. The
slide
guitar cuts through that nasty ear ringing and if you time it just right the
explosion of a sodium lamp complements the crash cymbal, quite
nicely. (TIP: try the
longer barrels for better accuracy.)
Willie Nelson/Waylon Jennings: "Mama, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be
Cowboys"
A redneck would never even consider
listening to Cypress Hill while putting the torch to a giant hog leg.
Pot is a dish best served with Willie. Waylon, too, if you can get 'em
both.
Cosmic Psychos "Rain Gauge"
Living the Miller Highlife is not nearly as exciting as living the scenester
highlife and boredom is a key ingredient to breaking the law. Joyriding
in a stolen Chevelle will get you out of the trailer and onto the open
road. Substitute
"Staring at the fuel gauge" while the front end rises as
you approach 110 on a dimly lit two lane side road.
Jerry Reed: "Amos Moses"
Hearing that funky swamp music will get you in the mood to go poach deer.
The phrase "They raised up a son who could eat up his weight in
groceries/Named him
after a man of the cloth/Called him Amos Moses" could well be the retro
earworm of the
year. Get on this one now. (Hint: After you're done, the spotlight works
nicely in
blinding oncoming drivers.)
Hank Williams Junior: "Family Tradition"
They come over here and they steal our women. They take our jobs and leave us
with restaurants that serve small portions. As a god fearing American,
you'll need to get busy whipping some French ass. Blaring some
post-plate-in-his-head Bocephus will annoy and distract the French while you
deliver some well aimed
swift kicks to the old yarbles.
I know you're just getting warmed up. Ready to go spraypaint a cop car or
break a few store windows? I'd love to help you out, but I can't travel down
that
dirt road for you. Being a redneck is about action. About making something
happen
when you've got nothing except a copy of "Back In Black," 3 gallons of
gasoline, and a bic lighter. Now that you're reaching thirty a little
action will do you some good. Get the blood flowing like it did when you
heard "Death Comes Ripping" or when you first wrote "FUCK" in paint
thinner on someone's lawn. (Not that I've ever done anything like that, mind
you.)
We're almost too old to care, so get out of the velvet lounge. You're not
getting any life experience in there. Once you've taken those first few steps
foward,
becoming a redneck will provide a myriad of life lessons. And the two most
important
bits of knowledge you can take into your 30s are that hairspray removes
blood stains
and it's more fun to be Hank Williams than Bryan Ferry.
back to the junk drawer
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