The Only Band That Matters, Obsessively Speaking

Drive-By Truckers perform at The Blue Note on May 2, 2010 in Columbia Missouri.

When I get obsessed about something I tend to stay obsessed. My devotion to the Denver Broncos is a prime example. From my massive football card collection, to the jerseys, the hats, the jackets, the tattoo, the glassware to, well you get the gist. My wife has placed an indefinite moratorium on Broncos Christmas ornaments.

It should come as no surprise that I also get obsessed about music. I am a stolid root-note-plunking recovering bassist, for one thing. I’m also a former mullet-wearing product of the carefree 80’s and 90’s when hair metal reigned supreme before the advent of grunge. Crunchy guitars, blood-curdling vocals and ripped up jeans as presented on MTV, that’s what I liked.  This was the predictable result of a childhood spent listening to country radio every morning at breakfast. My dad’s idea of letting his hair down was listening to the Countrypolitan syrup of Charlie Rich instead of the downhome grit of Hank Williams.

Once I became a parent and a presumably responsible adult I found my musical tastes changing. By that I mean I still wanted to listen to hip contemporary music but not wake the baby up. I began looking for acoustic albums by my favorite artists, an endeavor that was made easier by MTV’s stream of “Unplugged” albums. Around this time my allegedly hip sister-in-law gave me a copy of Uncle Tupelo’s “Anodyne.” The album is a touchstone of the alt-country movement, revered for its forthright blend of punk bluster with earnest country twang. I loved it immediately and began seeking out other alt-country groups and discovered a treasure trove of subversive bands like Slobberbone, Blue Mountain, Supersuckers and finally the world-beating Drive-By Truckers.

The first song I ever heard by Drive-By Truckers was “Hell No, I Ain’t Happy.” If you haven’t heard it, before a single note of music is played the song begins with the sound of a beercan being popped open.  What follows is four minutes and forty seconds of frustration, fury and swagger. Like any good obsessive I ended up purchasing the entire Truckers catalog beginning with the deceptive simplicity of “Gangstabilly” and “Pizza Deliverance” right on up to the point of buying their new releases on the day of release, and sometimes pre-ordering. A sure sign of obsession.  The band has a revolving door of players but the trio of singer/guitarist Patterson Hood, singer/guitarist Mike Cooley and drummer Brad Morgan have been there for every album. Hood and Cooley are true American songwriters in the vein of Guthrie, Dylan, Young or Springsteen. Yes, that’s right, they really are.

Hood and Cooley write in very disparate styles while remaining in their own mostly self-created genre. For three albums in the 00’s they also had the brilliant Jason Isbell on board. Three great songwriters and guitarists  (and vocalists) in one band? Yeah, I know, it’s nuts.  What all three of these guys have in common besides amazing musical chops is the ability to capture characters, issues and life’s absurdities with erudite lyrics and sly southern charm. Shoot, even the recently-departed bassist Shonna Tucker wrote songs of note for the last three albums.  Keyboardist Jason Gonzalez and secret-weapon multi-instrumentalist John Neff round out the current line-up.

Drive-By Trucker’s magnum opus is the critically-acclaimed “Southern Rock Opera.” Released at the dawn of the new millennium it heralded a return to foot-stomping three-guitar rock while deviously painting a picture of a New South still struggling to shed the burden of its past while forging a future in the new century, all revolving around the tale of a fictional band based more or less on Lynyrd Skynyrd. It landed on a lot of year-end “Best Of” lists and the band shot to overnight stardom.

Well, not exactly.  In “Hell No, I Ain’t Happy” Patterson Hood sang about being “an overnight sensation after 25 years.” The band has had so many line-up changes only an obsessive can really keep track. Isbell came and went in three great albums. Shonna Tucker, once married to Isbell, departed last year after after 8 albums.  Rob Malone was gone after touring for Southern Rock Opera. But the Truckers keep truckin on through hundreds of live shows a year, with each album selling more than the last.  They left New West Records after a pretty public row and signed with Dave Matthew’s ATO label. They’ve cracked the Top 40 album chart a few times, they’ve been on Letterman, they made records with Betty Lavette and Booker T that both won Grammys. Why aren’t these guys on the cover of Rolling Stone or hosting Saturday Night Live?

Probably because they are playing smart music in a nation filled with people who think Lady Gaga is a genius. But what really keeps the Truckers going is the live show. Hood calls it “the rock show” and it is. My first Truckers show was at the venerable Blue Note in Columbia, Missouri in 2007. I’ve been to a lot of concerts by a lot of artists and nothing can compare to the cathartic exuberance of a Truckers show. I’ve seen another five shows since, and per my obsession will go to any appearance within driving distance (which my wife has limited to three hours). We’ve gotten some good friends hooked on the Truckers as well and its always a good road trip wherever we go. We’ve all met the band on a few occasions and made friends with some of the crew. Through the Truckers I’ve discovered the brilliant work of their album-cover artist Wes Freed and the music of side projects like Japancakes and Hood’s excellent solo work. And of course to feed my obsession I now have concert posters and band photos hanging on the walls of my office right next to John Elway and Tim Tebow.

Sometimes obsession is a good thing. If it gets you to turn off the ClearChannel pre-programmed crap that Big Radio wants you to listen to it can be a GREAT thing.  Greater yet if it gets you out to support live music and new bands.  Greatest of all, maybe you get obsessed.  I promise you’ll like it.