 by Steve McPherson
If finding fame and fortune were merely a matter of the measure of your heart, then the members of the ridiculously and entirely accurately named I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House would already be living high on the hog. I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House delivers one of the most absolutely unbelievable live shows I have ever had the privilege to see, and it’s simple why: a strong work ethic. “How I’ve always looked at this from day one,” says singer/guitarist and principal songwriter Mike Damron by phone from Portland, Ore., “is if there’s five people at my show on a Tuesday night—you know how it was there in Des Moines: there was nobody there, but I came there to kick some ass. I didn’t come all that way to not play my guts out. If it’s just for you and Martin [Devaney] and the bartender, well that’s fine. That’s the best crowd there is.”
Download an mp3 of I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House's song “Regrets and Greyhounds.”
 When
I was out on the road with Martin Devaney playing a short acoustic tour last
March, we arrived at the Vaudeville Mews in Des Moines, Iowa, to find out we
were splitting the bill with the band we would come to know as Sonofabitch,
and I have to admit I was a little thrown by the name. “I never thought
this band was going to gain any kind of momentum,” answers Damron when
asked if the name ever overshadows the band itself. “I just figured I
was going to do this for fun, stay at a local level and not really tour. The
name is [from] a book by a heavyweight champion named John L. Sullivan who was
a bare-knuckle fighter. But when it comes across a desk of some guy who [you
want] to book your band, you know how hard that is when you’re starting
out, if you’re The Whatevers or The The’s or The This or The That,
they’re not gonna pay no nevermind ‘cause they get a hundered packages
every week, so I figure if I throw some big outrageous stupid-looking shit on
it they’ll open it up. Now it’s a little bit of a hindrance. You
know, some people just automatically judge you as a big dumb redneck. So it
kind of hurts us in that aspect, when we’re really the exact opposite
of that.”
And that’s completely true: When I saw them roll out of the van, Damron
looking like Warren Haynes’ cousin and the rest of the band (Flapjack
Texas on drums, Mole Harris on bass, David Lipskind on harmonica and John Burbank
on guitar) looking only slightly less motley, I figured they were going to be
surly, drunk and smelly. They were mostly only smelly, since they’d already
been on the road for weeks and were about to hook up with the Reverend Horton
Heat and the Supersuckers for a couple more. Asked about the strain of touring,
Damron replies, “The only thing that gets kind of old is that I’m
getting older; I’m getting up there in years, so it takes its toll on
my body. You know, I throw myself into it every night. The other guys are younger,
so it’s a little easier on them. I could live out there, though; now we’re
out four or five months a year, but if it was up to me, I could stay out nine
months. I don’t have much of a homelife and I never have anyway. I kind
of feel at ease out there, you know, just going from place to place. And you
build this extended family of people and you become involved in each other’s
lives and intertwined all over the country. It’s a good feeling to have
that kind of family.”
 That
night in Des Moines, I first approached Lipskind and discovered that he’d
played harmonica on fellow-Portlanders the Decemberists’ last record,
and he was just such a genuine and nice guy that I can see how they build a
family out on the road. Responding to the much-hated question of “What
does your band sound like?” he replied, “AC/DC crossed with Steve
Earle,” and while that doesn’t quite do justice to their sound,
it’s a not unfair assessment. There’s a resemblance to the neo-Southern
rock of the Drive-By Truckers, but where that band has literary ambitions wedged
in between the strings of their three-guitar attack, Sonofabitch has more attack.
Damron makes politics personal on tracks like “Westboro Baptist Church”
from Sonfoabitch’s latest, Menace. It might not be nuanced—Damron
refers to himself as “the big middle finger on the left”—but
how nuanced can you be when dealing with a homophobic jackass like Phelps, who
most recently posted to his website that Hurricane Katrina was a blessing for
wiping out New Orleans? I think Damron’s right on the money when he sings,
“Fuck Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church.” Damron’s
view of music’s ability to effect change is equally blunt and level-headed:
“If somebody like Dylan couldn’t do it, who the hell’s gonna
do it? Not me, definitely, because I’m not articulate like that. Whereas
somebody like Dylan spoke eloquently, I just know I gotta say what’s in
my heart and on my mind.”
Damron doesn’t just shout it over the brawling guitars of Sonofabitch.
He’s recently put out a solo album, called Perfect Day for a Funeral,
and he likes exploring a more stripped-down country vibe. “It’s
more personal-type stories,” he says of his solo disc. “The same
kind of themes: death, dying and redemption, hope and hopelessness. I’ve
been influenced by Texas-type songwriters, you know, Billie Joe Shaver and Townes
Van Zandt and Guy Clark. Steve Earle. This thing is more acoustic driven and
we’ve got that shuffle beat on the drum; it’s more Texas.”
 So
with a solo acoustic record, Sonofabitch preparing to release a live album and
studio time for both projects waiting in April, he’s got plenty on his
plate, but don’t bet that he’s letting it get away from him. The
kind of grit, determination, honesty and character I’ve already witnessed
from Damron and his fellow bandmates comes through in his answer to my final
question about plans for the future, just before he tells me to hang on to his
phone number in case I ever come through Portland and need anything: “First
and foremost, we’re just a blue-collar bar band. I don’t have delusions
that we’re gonna be out there touring with whatever [big name band]. I
don’t feel like that’s in the cards: to be huge. I feel like we’re
gonna be just breaking it out, night after night, as much as we can. I’m
raising my daughter now and she’s a teenager so I want to get her to 18.
That’s one of my huge goals: get her up and grown, get her into college
somewhere. That’s very important to me. To make sure she’s safe.
Basically just eke it out. Make a living and see where life takes me. You know,
there’s no big masterplan. Just to keep doing what you love doing: that’s
life in a nutshell.” ||
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House play Tue., Sept. 20 at the Turf
Club with Martin Devaney and the Rosebuds. 9 p.m. $7. 21+. Corner of University
and Snelling Aves., St. Paul. 651-647-0486.
To find out more about Sonofabitch, check out their website
at ICanLickAnySonofabitchInTheHouse.com.
Head over to our mp3 page to download hundreds of tunes,
including I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House's “Regrets
and Greyhounds.”
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