Monday, December 2, 2013

12.02.13

On December 2nd I listened to Willie Nelson Red Headed Stranger and Jake Bugg Shangri La.


SPOILER ALERT! The Red Headed Stranger kills his wife, her lover AND The Yellow Haired Lady! But The Yellow Haired Lady was kinda trying to steal his horse. He got off Scott free and they buried that bitch at sunset.

If that doesn't make you wanna listen to Willie Nelson’s Red Headed Stranger, then it’s pretty much safe to say you’re a bleeding heart liberal who hates America.



Willie Nelson is a national treasure and I feel like not enough people are listening to his music. Yeah, I like to think everyone knows he’s the guy that smoked a joint on the roof of the White House and he’s an all around bad-ass, but he’s so much more. Willie Nelson is one of the greatest songwriters and performers that ever lived. He’s a living legend and I’d say 100% of people under 30 only know him cause he hung out with fucking Snoop Dogg, or Tiger Mom, or whatever that pud is calling himself these days.

Willie Nelson is on tour for a big chunk of 2014, I suggest you go see him! God forbid, before it's too late! The man is 80 years old and he smokes more pot than a College Hacky Sack team. 

He’s playing in Oklahoma on my birthday and I’m booking a flight! I’m gonna eat some bull balls and see the great Willie Nelson! “Happy birthday to me! Keep the Prairie Oysters coming… I don’t want to see a legend on an empty stomach!”

I grew up with an appreciation of Nelson and Country Music. My asshole parents went through a Country Music phase that started in the late 70’s when Nelson was literally "the shit." By association I was listening to Willie and his buddies Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson and all the old-school Country greats; Charlie Daniels, John Denver, Johnny Cash, Johnny Paycheck, Dolly PartonJerry Reed, Loretta Lynn, Barbara Mandrell, George Jones, The Statler Brothers, Hank Williams Jr., Ronnie Milsap, Kenny Rogers, Merle Haggard, Mel Tillis et al.

One of my favorite songs from that period is by David Frizzell, “I’m Gonna Hire A Wino To Decorate Our Home.” It had very special meaning to me. My dad was a loser drunk that spent more time at his favorite two bars than he did at home. The Urban Inn and Benny Pie’s were his homes away from home. Oh and when he wasn’t at his homes away from home he was usually sleeping over his girlfriend’s house. She was a large woman with no teeth and the mother of their illegitimate daughter, who they named after him. Sweet, right?

“I’m Gonna Hire A Wino To Decorate Our Home,” is a snarky little number told from a feed up wife’s perspective.  It’s about a drunk who is never home and the wife tells him quite sarcastically that she’s willing to turn their home into a piss smelling Honky Tonk just so the guy won’t fuck around and spend all of their money. It was my mom’s jam!


Subsequently, Jerry Reed’s “She Got The Gold Mind, I Got The Shaft” became my Dad’s jam. While I was caught in the middle, wondering why they didn't give a shit about “raising” me.


The interesting thing about those songs and a lot of those artists, I mentioned, is that they were creating a “new” Country Music. It was more modern, for the time, and the new school was holding a mirror up to more complicated current social issues. Going for a walk after midnight wasn't enough anymore. Songs need to be written and recorded on a grander scale to capture the imaginations of a broader audience. A broader audience of Hicks, Hillbillies, and Hoosiers, who make up the backbone of this great land of ours. That newer style is a lot more gimmicky and the current model for most Country Music today. Willie was certainly guilty of this too. Remember this?


The problem I have with most country music today, beyond the fact that it’s kind of annoying, is the disposable Pop nature of it. All the guys sing about drinking and banging and all the girls sing about how their men drink and bang (other women) too much. I guess, I’m assuming from trying to remember any country song I heard in the last ten years. The only one I remember is “Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line. Although, it meets three outta four of the American Country Music Associations criteria for "Countryness," it’s definitely a little too flashy for my taste. Nelly is in a mix of it. Not the mix they play on Florida or Georgia radio stations, however. Which I don’t think is irony, just good old fashioned bigotry.

Regardless, the ACMA measures how Country a song is by four themes:

1. The consumption of alcohol.

2. Lamenting over the loss of a loved one – either because you murdered them, somebody else murdered them, they just died from natural causes, or they bumped uglies with somebody else.

3. A favorite vehicle – usually a pickup truck, a horse, or a tractor. In one of the most cleaver Country songs of all time, Big & Rich made their dicks the vehicle. "Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy)" earned an unprecedented 150% Country rating for that stroke of genius. 

4. A member of the opposite sex – who is either loved, despised, or loved and despised.

Simply put – a beer, a tear, a truck, and a tramp. Nobody’s crying in “Cruise” (yet), so it scores a 75% Country rating, but at the end of the day it’s just a Good Ol’ Boy Dance song. And I guess you need something to fill the dance floor at the barn hoe down.

"The Red Headed Stranger" earns a 125% rating for "Countryness." There's drinking, lamenting the murder of a loved one, two horses, and The Yellow Haired Lady, who also gets killed. Maybe that's 150% too. I dunno, maybe.

Redheaded Stranger is about as pure as country music can get. It’s not over-produced. There’s no ten-piece band. It is just Willie’s sweet voice, a simple narrative, and the perfect complement of backing musicians driving the story of the Redheaded Stranger from tragedy to redemption. It’s really quite beautiful and heartfelt.

Yet, the bleeding heart liberal in me thinks the Redheaded Stranger should have hung by the neck until dead for pumping The Yellow Haired Lady full of lead. Well, no I guess that wouldn't make me a liberal. ‘Merica!



For me, the main appeal of Jake Bugg’s self-titled debut was how much the kid sounded like Woody Guthrie. Modern references aside, Jake Bugg sounded like a forgotten 50-year-old folk album recorded by a thoughtful young man trying to end fascism with his guitar. Fuckin’ A!

Rick Rubin came along and changed all that. The age old mono vocals are gone, bigger arrangements clomp around behind the singer, Chad Smith (Red Hot Chili Peppers) was brought in to keep time on some of the songs and whatever Jake Bugg’s sound was… is now gone. Having said that, I still kinda like Shangri La. However, the title blows.

The main problem with the record is that it’s rather bland and each song melts into the next without much originality. Almost every track has an element that will have you thinking, “where have I heard this before?” 

“What Doesn't Kill You” opens with and is centered around a generic 70’s Punk guitar riff. I’m half expecting Glen Campbell to start singing “You And Me,” which isn't a bad thing, it’s my favorite song on the disc. Bugg sites Oasis as an influence and I finally hear that on “Messed Up Kids.” I’d have loved to have been in the room when Johnny Marr first heard “Kingpin,” because I’m pretty sure he called his lawyer and said, “have that bloke write me a check.” Johnny calls everyone a bloke, cause he’s English. He also pees in a “loo.”

I love Rick Rubin, but he didn't help make the best record for what Jake Bugg started out trying to do.


Tomorrow I listen to AC/DC and Imagine Dragons!

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