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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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'Round the Dial: When the chips are down ...
Thursday 22 March @ 12:17:03 |
 by TOM HALLETT
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “People who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.” – Jack Nicholson
SONG OF THE WEEK: “The Great Battle” - Jon Dee Graham
Just a few short words this week, folks, then it’s back to whippin’ these reviews out before they once again begin to pile up on my desk like last year ... and the year before ... etc. As that itch for actual spring to get sprung becomes harder and harder to scratch (like that place in the exact center of your back that you just CANNOT reach no matter how hard you try), I’ve always felt the urge to hit the road, thumb up and hopes high, even though I knew deep down ya can’t out-run what’s makin’ ya run in the first place.
These days, of course, I’m long past the point of adventure outweighing comfort (like a book I recently read, where an old man who lived out in the sticks just spent the long cold winter days in his long johns rather than bothering to get dressed—age sometimes helps one to see the logic of warmth and the safety of routine over the bother of style, fashion or giving a damn what anyone else thinks) and prefer to get my kicks by making up fun little mental games to play while I inwardly sigh as a sun with absolutely no warmth glows like a gigantic dope light in the sky for six or seven hours a day.
Last year, a friend and I came up with an idea to both help pass the time and to (hopefully) get a chuckle out of the absolutely ridiculous state of the world around us. Now, as we hit the four-year mark on another war that’s accomplished nothing but unspeakable horror and thousands of needless deaths, it’s getting harder and harder to find things to laugh about. Whereas we used to each find at least one thing we’d see on our individual forays into the daily world to commiserate about in the evenings (“OK,” she’d say, “What’s the stupidest or funniest thing you saw today?”), nowadays it’s hard to find even one between the two of us each week. Which is why I’m so excited that I saw a simple, even rather moronic bumper sticker on a beat-to-shit Volvo parked at the local supermarket this past week that actually caused me to laugh out loud.
It’s no quote of the week, but plastered to that thrashed bumper on a car packed to the ceiling with material obviously scavenged from nearby dumpsters, it seemed funny as hell at the time. Maybe you just had to be there. Or maybe, like me, you would’ve had to have just considered all the rot and evil chewing a hole through the moral fiber of the planet and, upon seeing this sticker on this particular vehicle parked between a Humvee and a snazzy ‘07 SUV, you woulda got the chuckle I did. Wrinkled and torn, the words were large enough to read from 100 feet away, and said everything I’d been thinking in one sentence: “When the chips are down, the buffalo is empty.” Take that one to Washington, Mr. Smith. And now on to reviews ...
Southern Culture on the Skids
Countrypolitan Favorites
2007
Yep Roc Records
I’ve been a fan of SCOTS for ages now—from the first time I heard their now-classic album Dirt Track Date (the cover of which featured a photo of a dusty old race track with a used condom laying haphazardly in the middle of the road) right on through their amazing live gigs in the ’Cities over the years, I knew these cats were kindred souls.
On Countrypolitan Favorites, the proud authors of such indie faves as “White Trash,” “Soul City” and “Voodoo Cadillac Blues” take their trailer park rockabilly down a notch and pump out a batch of tunes that most people born in the Sixties grew up hearing on their parents’ radios and throw in a few curveballs just to keep things rollin’. The trio (vocalist, bassist, keyboardist Mary Huff, vocalist/stringed instrument wiz Rick Miller and drummer Dave Hartman) do a fine job re-interpreting both American and English classics without a trace of irony or smarmy indie attitude.
Album opener “Oh Lonesome Me,” originally released by Don Gibson and then later covered by Neil Young, is given an up-tempo, “shove it up your ass” kick here, with rock-a-billy guitars, snappy rhythms and vocalist Miller sounding hell bent on retribution. The Kinks’ “Muswell Hillbillies” is keyboard-heavy, but fairly true to the original, and proves that Ray Davies could write a song transferable to American po’ folks as if he’d actually been born and raised here.
Merle Kilgore’s “Wolverton Mountain” is an almost hard rock rendition of the original love/death ballad, with absolutely gorgeous backing vocals from Huff and the band attacking the tune as if it’s the last song they’ll ever play together. I always thought this song was a little scary when I heard it as a kid, but SCOTS version makes you feel as if Clifton Clowers is the one who should be shakin’ in his shoes, not the subject of his daughter’s affections.
Joe South’s “Rose Garden” (another old fave of mine, as done by Lynn Anderson until I heard Joe’s original version a few years ago—amazing!) is amped up and rings proudly with the almost overwhelming pain of the lyrics, Huff belting it out word for word, the band sighing heavenly backing vocals, and the overall effect of the tune being exactly why sad songs make some people so happy. Marvelous.
T. Rex’s “Life’s a Gas” (a true nugget in this bunch) is re-invented as a sexy, slow-burning duet between Huff and Miller, and is almost unrecognizable—a fact that I think would probably truly be a gas for the late Marc Bolan, the song’s author. The old standard “Te Ni Nee Ni Nu” (which has been covered by everybody from Harry Belafonte to Alex Chilton) is subjected to a rollicking, smooth-as-glass makeover here, the band establishing both their professional and personal closeness with a funky wink and a nod.
SCOTS cover two John Fogerty compositions here, neither one obvious or overplayed—and literally knock ’em outta the ballpark. On “Tombstone Shadow” (A Creedence-era cut), Huff takes on the musical guise of a hardened outlaw, growling and shimmying her way through the cut while the band plays it darker and heavier than CCR probably ever dreamed of doing. The second is a genuine gem, cut with John Fogerty’s brother Tom when the band was known as The Golliwogs (it’s available on Lenny Kaye’s Nuggets Box Set, for those who care to dig deeper), a bad-ass, garage-burner filled with grit and guts that’s reminiscent of both live B-52’s and the acid-drenched era from whence it originally came—check out Miller’s out of control scream and guitar solo near the end of the cut.
The album winds up with a version of J.D. Loudermilk’s “Tobacco Road” (which has been covered by nearly every rock ’n’ roll band that formed before 1979) that, oddly enough, sounds more like a CCR track than either of the Fogerty covers, Miller’s guitar slashing and ringing out as loud and proud as that hoodoo voodoo outfit’s ever did. The final cut, a rousing version of The Who’s “Happy Jack,” pays homage to the original while maintaining a funky, original vibe that could only come from SCOTS. A real, honest keeper of an album that’s full of fun, devil-may-care moments and found sounds you’ll have to buy the record to hear for yourself. Highly recommended. Check it out at yeproc.com or scots.com.
That’s all the space we’ve got for this week, people. Tune in again for more of the same next time out, same time, same page. Until then—make yer own damn news.
If you’ve got local CDs/Gigs/Info you’d like to see mentioned in this space, or you’d just like to know what the hell a “golliwog” is, send replies to: Tmygunn77764@yahoo.com. ||
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