RIP Earl Scruggs

 
"What Scruggs had done was to begin playing a five-string banjo with three fingers. His thumb, middle, and index fingers were all picking, creating two strands of harmony to buttress the melody. In a sense, he could function as a trio all by himself. Because he alternated three fingers, Scruggs could play one note after another in rapid succession, giving the impression that he was playing his banjo at terrific speed. Later, when he joined Bill Monroe's band, Scruggs was introduced as 'the boy who can make a banjo talk.'"
--Nicholas Dawidoff, In The Country Of Country, 1997, p. 115

Sit down, shut up, and learn something. This is a 90-minute documentary on Earl Scruggs from 1972. Make no mistake, we've lost a giant in post-World War II American music, a man who introduced the badass solo to country and mountain music.

DOCUMENTARY TIMELINE

0:00 - Bob Dylan, "East Virginia Blues" and "Nashville Skyline Rag."

5:28 - Doc Watson, "John Hardy," "Home Sweet Home," and
"Cripple Creek."

15:37 - Origin of "Flint Hill Special."

25:13 - Earl Scruggs: "I just didn't wanna stay with 'Cumberland Gap' or 'Cripple Creek' over and over and over and over again."

28:03 - "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" with Clarence White and The Byrds.

31:40 - Early Moog synthesizer and discussion of electronic music taking over acoustic instruments. And then a duet, of sorts (pictured below). Mind-blowingly ahead of its time. "I think it was a fabulous sound. Live and electronic."

Gary & Earl Scruggs with earnest, wacky Moog guy

38:22 - Earl Scruggs explaining why he's playing an anti-Vietnam War benefit. How unpopular does a war have to be when the banjo player in his mid-'40s is protesting it???

43:18 - Ron Swanson explains "overdubbing."

44:15 - Ron Swanson explains "sweetening."

50:10: "Prior to Earl Scruggs, the banjo was a rhythm instrument, it was an instrument of the clowns. But Earl made it a versatile instrument with his new style of three-finger (playing), a true instrument of music, instead of just a rhythm instrument."

51:09 - Earl Scruggs puts on a banjo clinic. If you watch nothing else, watch this.

59:05 - Pulling up to the Ryman Auditorium (Grand Ole Opry House).

59:24 - Bill Monroe, "Little Maggie" and "Nine Pound Hammer."

1:01:36 - Mmmm ... Goo Goo Clusters.

1:04:46 - Good exchange between Gary and Earl, who brings us back home by way of banjo.

Scruggs men with the lovely Joan Baez

1:07:00 - Joan Baez, "My Home's Across The Blue Ridge Mountains." Look, I wanna make fun of Joan Baez as much as the next guy, but this is badass. Maybe no Dolly Parton, but very impressive.

1:11:35 - Joan Baez and Earl Scruggs, "Love Is Just A Four Letter Word."

1:16:34 - Joan Baez (with baby) & Randy Scruggs, "It Ain't Me Babe." It's safe to say that any woman watching this will immediately begin ovulating. Men, you've been warned.

1:18:40 - Joan Baez (with baby) & Randy Scruggs, "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine." Honestly, I want to go back into a time machine and propose to Joan Baez. It's not just me, is it?

1:23:46 - Earl Scruggs: "What I would like to do is to keep up with the times and make as much progress with the banjo, along with the other instruments, as long as it blends in."

Remembering March 16-20, 1992

"Halfway through the week, I thought, 'Gee, this is like working on a classic Rolling Stones album. This is going to be a great record and it's going to be around for a long time.' I felt very responsible too. It was important to get everything right. Because you only get to make a record like this once."
--Peter Buck

20 years ago today, Uncle Tupelo finished recording their third album, March 16-20, 1992. Produced by Buck, March was a collection of acoustic country/folk songs (8 originals, 7 covers) that represented a substantial left turn for what was essentially a punk rock band with twangy tendencies. Sure, Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy included acoustic songs on No Depression and Still Feel Gone, and peppered their setlists with same, but a full-on folk fest was totally unexpected.

In hindsight, Farrar and Tweedy were clearly reacting to the flannel-clad expectations of the era. If the industry was looking for the next Nirvana, then Uncle Tupelo was gonna give it a young Bob Dylan. Which is not only the most punk rock thing you could do, but something Dylan himself has done repeatedly throughout his career. Coincidentally, March 19, 1992, was the 30th anniversary of the release of Dylan's self-titled debut. I know this because yesterday was the 50th anniversary of said album's release and even I can do basic math.

Uncle Tupelo - Wait Up

One of Tweedy's great early songs, the only thing missing is an extraneous 10 minute Krautrock noise passage and some Radiohead-esque "found sounds." Kidding. This song is perfect as is and its minimalism is its genius. Sounds like two acoustic guitars (with hammer-ons for all my friends), unofficial fourth Tupelo, Brian Henneman on banjo (panned right), engineer John Keane floats around on pedal steel, and Peter Buck adds unobtrusive feedback. 2:08 and done. Beautiful.

L-R: Farrar, Tweedy, Mike Heidorn

Uncle Tupelo - Coalminers

"The March album was the one where people really went overboard. People really wanted to believe we were coalminers."
--Jeff Tweedy

"We could occasionally imitate Jay's singing and insert our own words: 'It gets real hot working down at my mom's bookstore.' It was a little too much to hear these songs about coalminers coming from regular dudes that worked in record stores and bought SST albums and went to Black Flag shows."
--Nick Sakes (Dazzling Killmen) to Greg Kot

"Coalminers" was a cover of Sarah Ogan Gunning's "Come All Ye Coalminers," first recorded by Alan Lomax in 1937. Farrar undoubtedly heard this song on the compilation, Oh My Little Darling: Folk Song Types, which contained another song covered for March, "Lilli Schull." Which brings me to my main point.

The nature of his work
Gave him a minstrel color

Farrar was not a coalminer, nor was he a moonshiner, and I can say with some assurance that he did not set Ms. Schull on fire. So fucking what? The idea that a singer/songwriter should only perform autobiographical material is one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever heard*, and yet Sakes' comment isn't anomalous. I've heard this line of non-reasoning before, which was usually followed by me pointing out that Johnny Cash didn't shoot a man just to watch him die, Robert Johnson didn't meet the devil at the crossroads, and I'm pretty goddamn sure Black Flag didn't have a TV party. All of which is perfectly acceptable. A song either works or it doesn't. But if you think it doesn't due to some narrow-minded intellectual conceit, you shouldn't be allowed to discuss music because you're obviously too stupid to understand the inherent role-playing in the singer/songwriter job description. /soapbox

* In Sakes' defense, he goes back to high school with Farrar, so his comment in context can be chalked up to good old fashioned ball busting. Nothing wrong with that. But, like I said, the sentiment itself was shared well beyond the inner circle.

Uncle Tupelo - Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down

Like "Coalminers," Tweedy picked up "Satan" from a folk music comp, High Atmosphere: Ballads and Banjo Tunes from Virginia and North Carolina. In fact, Jeff sings 3 songs from this album, including "Warfare" and "I Wish My Baby Was Born." The High Atmosphere version of "Satan" is performed by Frank Proffitt, accompanied by frailing banjo. However, Uncle Tupelo switches out the banjo for Henneman's bouzouki, which is pitched between a mandolin and banjo, but adds a distinctive drone.

Fun Fact: In Turkish, "bouzouki" means "broken, not functioning, modified." Which is ironic, because in country music, "banjo" also means "broken, not functioning, modified." HEYO!!!

Uncle Tupelo - Wipe The Clock

"Listening to it now what I hear most in my voice is fear, although someone else might construe it as emotion. It was very raw."

The final song on March 16-20, 1992 (at least in its original form) is also my favorite. It's essentially a demo: guitar, harmonica, and Farrar's voice. That's it. Totally skeletal. But, what else could it possibly need? The lyrics are moving, even profound, cryptically addressing betrayal, trust, and the thin line between love and hate. Is it anticipating the schism in Uncle Tupelo? Is it already looking ahead to Son Volt and Wilco?

In reading Farrar's quote above, I'm struck by how similar it is to something Tweedy said shortly after the album's release. When asked about the abundance of religious material on March, Jeff replied, "What I really get from those songs is that they're more about fear than they are about religion. They're really frightened sounding songs.''

With the benefit of hindsight, maybe this is what makes "Wipe The Clock" so effective, not to mention the entirety of the March album. That fear that makes those old folk and country songs resonate never went away. It's still with us and it was with us in 1992. Every now and then, certain musicians are able to tap into it, like they're tuning a radio to a very specific, hard to reach frequency. This was the genius of Uncle Tupelo. They were able to harness that fear, that generational insecurity, and translate it into a language that we understood. Lots of musicians have musical talent, but this is beyond that. It's a gift from the gods, and 20 years later it's a gift that keeps on giving.

Buy March 16-20, 1992 - No seriously, you need to own this album. Just buy it and be glad you did. And get the rest of the UT catalog while you're at it. Take my word.

Rescued From Obscurity: The Glands

The Glands: Ross Shapiro (guitar) and Joe Rowe (drums)
Photo: Jonathan Phillips

*
I love this picture of The Glands because it perfectly sums up my relationship toward their music. They put out two albums of strange, beautiful, heavy, melodic, grooving (in a good way) rockpop music and then disappeared. Oh, they'll reunite every now and then in their native Athens, GA, but for the rest of us they remain a total enigma, forever in shadows. In a sense, they're Neutral Milk Hotel without the cultural momentum. Both bands were based in Athens, roughly contemporary with one another (mid-to-late '90s), led by possibly genius eccentrics (Shapiro/Mangum), and both bands left a legacy of two albums. One band took, the other didn't. So, let's help change that.

The Glands - Skin (1996)

"And how you're always talkin' 'bout your skin
Somebody should tell you that it's thinner than you're thinkin'"

Double Thriller was The Glands' debut, initially self-released in 1996, then resequenced and reissued on Bar/None Records in 1998. It's not as consistently top shelf as its follow-up, but still has several great songs. "Skin" sounds like a languid "Tractor Rape Chain" or Wilco circa Being There. I'm not sure I'd call Double Thriller a great album, but you can hear the greatness percolating. Actually, listening to this song again, I'm reminded why I like both Mannequin Men and Li'l Cap'n Travis. It swings like the former (along with similar vocal stylings) and shimmers like the latter, though any similarities are more than likely accidental.

Greatest Athens album featuring a blurry cat and what appears to be a pommel horse on its cover? Duh.

Other albums have been more "important" and no doubt hundreds of albums have sold more copies, but The Glands, released in 2000, is my favorite album to come out of the Athens music scene. Apparently, Patterson Hood agrees with this sentiment. There's a reason for this. It's a gorgeous, sprawling, occasionally difficult masterpiece that contains nary a flaw and hasn't aged a bit in its 12 year existence. Also, let's be honest, does Murmur really need me to stick up for it? Settle down, REMissaries.

The Glands - Work It Out (2000)

I don't know if the title is an homage to "We Can Work It Out," but "Paperback Writer" is all up in this groove. It's really Beatles-esque in the best way. Influenced, but not annoyingly obvious. It's not even really a pop song, yet you listen to it a few times and you wanna sing along, "Why should I feel blue when I all I see is you?!?!" Not sure if it's Shapiro or Frank McDonald on the rippin' guitar solo from 2:16-3:11, but the badassery cannot be denied.

The Glands - Fortress (2000)

"You keep the letters, the pictures, the flowers
They call you sentimental
They've got the ace in the hole
The skin and bones and tongue."

By far my favorite Glands song, it turns me into a total pussy every time. It's the sound of plaintive, lilting heartbreak, especially Shapiro's killer vocal. Also, I love that perfect image of the fortress, one in Texas and one in California, and exquisitely designed to keep loved ones separated. Yeah, I couldn't possibly relate to any of that. I think the best thing about "Fortress" is that it's emotionally resonant without a single note being overplayed. It's epic without being operatic, anthemic without being bossy, just understated, hesitating beauty.

Photo: Twentieth Century Girl

Double Thriller remains pretty hard to find, but you can actually get The Glands for less than $5 on Amazon! You have no excuses for ignoring its brilliance. The real diamond, however, is The Glands on vinyl. As I pointed out to Aquarium Drunkard a few years ago, the vinyl contains five extra songs and has a totally different track listing, which changes the feel of the album, in my opinion for the better. Not significantly better, but better nonetheless. Maybe one of these days I'll figure out how to turn vinyl into mp3s and we can compare and contrast.

"I called my shrink
But what I really want's a little empathy
We're gonna work, gonna work it out."

SXSW Recommendation: Mannequin Men

L-R: Ethan D'Ercole: guitar, vocals; Miles Raymer: bass, vocals; Seth Bohn: drums, vocals; Kevin Richard: lead vocals, guitar
Photo: Stephen Schuster

If you're going to Austin this week for either SXSW or Springsteen NerdCon, allow me to recommend a band while you're there. Mannequin Men are a kickass four-piece from Chicago and they're playing a quintet of shows during the festival (listed below). Maybe you can check out one of their sets in between taco benders and the four hours a day you'll be discussing Springsteen shows, albums, and other minutiae whether you want to or not. Seriously, you're gonna need to plan around a LOT of white guy high fives.

Mannequin Men released their fourth album, Mannequin Men, late last year on Addenda Records. It was one of my favorite albums of 2011 and actually a significant departure for them in the sense that instead of just being a swagger-and-riffs rock band (which I have no problem with) they added open chords and melodies to the swagger and riffs. To wit:

"Hobby Girl"
Salzer's Records, Ventura, CA
August 31, 2009

"It was a song that I had written and brought to the band with kind of no idea what to do (vocally). Seth took the idea and ran with it ... and it was awesome. That was a turning point. That song's very uncool. It's not fast, it's not noisy, it's just a straight up vocal."
--Kevin Richard in Chicagoist

Unless my ears deceive me, Bohn actually sings lead on four of Mannequin Men's twelve tracks, plus adds harmony on a couple songs. His expanded vocal presence gives the band a new dynamic to play with, and why not? Bohn has a cool voice that contrasts nicely with Richard's snotty whine. It reminds me of my beloved Neckbones to some degree, who had Tyler Keith on swagger mic and both Dave Boyer and/or Forrest Hewes on "straight up vocal."


"Chopper"
Johnny Brenda's, Philadelphia
July 16, 2009

Having established the sensitive singer/songwriter motif, let us return to the rock foundation, and what you'll likely get in Austin. I like "Chopper" because it hints at Pixies with that quasi-surf sound, not to mention Richard's Black Francis-esque (in a good way) vocal style. "Chopper" is a cool song, maybe nothing revolutionary, but gimme a solid two guitar, bass, drums lineup that knows how to build gradually to sweet guitar noise anytime. And if they wanna drop the "I Wanna Be Your Dog" riff, I'm not gonna complain. I'm old-fashioned that way.


"(Us And) All Of Our Friends Are So Messed Up"
Beachland Tavern, Cleveland
July 11, 2009

Much respect to the Mannequins for resurrecting this old-timey Clevelandia chestnut. "Messed Up" is a 1988 single and inglorious basterd anthem by The Pagans. I better see YouTube clips of you drunk assholes singing along with this at SX. Speaking of which, here is the M2 schedule.

MANNEQUIN MEN @ SXSW
click on links for directions

Wed Mar 14 - 3:00PM @ Beerland: Can't Stop The Bleeding Party
Wed Mar 14 - 10:00PM inside @ Spiderhouse: Get Bent/Whoops Baby Party
Thu Mar 15 - 4:30PM @ Longbranch Inn: No theme, just get drunk
Thu Mar 15 - 8:00PM @ Trailer Space: Cake Shop Party
[UPDATED] Fri Mar 16 - 8:45PM @ Cheer Up Charlies: CMR TYZ Party

If you're driven mad by Bossmania, consider a road trip to Laredo where Mannequin Men are inexplicably booked on Saturday night, not only the craziest night of SXSW, but also St. Patty's Day.

Sat Mar 17 - Laredo, TX @ Old No 2 Cafe & Grill

Oh wait, just checked the internet and that's the same weekend Laredo is hosting the national midget hooker convention. Why was I worried on their behalf? Mannequin Men obviously know what they're doing.

I recommend following @mannequinmen and @AddendaRecs on Twitter in time for SXSW. Same with Facebook. And on a more general note, when in Austin, don't forget your cellphone charger and remember to hydrate. You're gonna burn a lot of energy involuntarily fistpumping.

The Gypsies Had No Homes, The Doors Had No Bass

Season 2, Episode 19
Originally aired April 30, 1991  

I don't particularly care for The Doors, but I actually think that makes this bit from Kids In The Hall even funnier. Bruce McCullough is perfect as Insane Record Store Guy and he teaches Kevin McDonald two valuable lessons: 1) Greatest Hits albums are for housewives and little girls and 2) When you're free-flyin' with The Doors, maaan, what do you need a safety net for?!?!

Shadowy Men On A Shadowy Planet - Having An Average Weekend

Did you know this was the title of the Kids In The Hall theme song? I did not. You can find "Weekend" on Savvy Show Stoppers, a 1988 compilation that does a good job of showcasing their appeal - punk but not punk, surf but not surf - a sound that clearly anticipated The Sadies. Coincidentally, one of the tracks on the album is called "Theme From TV" and yet is a totally different track than "Weekend." Those clever Canucks

FYI, you can DL (for now) the long out-of-print Savvy Show Stoppers at I Could Die Tomorrow. Totally worth checking out. 

Viva le Doors!!!

Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere

One of my favorite parts of doing the "James At 16" post was discovering this hilarious typo printed on the back cover of the "Standing In The Doorway" single. Not sure if it's Rolling Stone or A&M at fault, but regardless, the writer is clearly overlooking my favorite Neil album, Tonight Is The Night and songs like "Similar To A Hurricane."

If you're staring blankly at your monitor/phone, this is why it's funny.

Songs That Soul Asylum Taught Us (James At 16)

Y'all should know how much I love Soul Asylum, at least the Soul Asylum who existed from roughly 1986-90. I've written about this era of the band here, here, here, and mmm lemme see oh yes, here. And I am well aware that beginning with Grave Dancer's Union in 1992, the law of diminishing returns enters the picture. However, during the hallowed quatrain of dominance, they were damn near the perfect rock band. Their live shows are deservedly legendary, but the secret weapon turned out to be hidden in plain sight. Dave Pirner and Dan Murphy were damn good songwriters and a great, economical, dual lead/rhythm guitar tandem.

Few tracks illustrate the appeal of Soul Asylum like the "James At 16 (Heavy Medley)." Granted, it's not meant to be taken THAT seriously. We're not critiquing In The Aeroplane Over The Sea for doctoral review. We're talking about an 11:47 onslaught of goofball badassery. It is what it suggests, a medley of 13 cover songs, 1 used twice, from the wildly popular to the willfully obscure.

• Prince - The Cross
• Buffalo Springfield - For What It's Worth
• Velvet Underground - I'm Waiting For My Man
• Godfathers - Birth, School, Work, Death
• Gang Of Four - Damaged Goods
• Wild Cherry - Play That Funky Music
• Ted Nugent - Free For All
• Gap Band - I Don't Believe You Want To Get Up And Dance (Oops, Upside Your Head)
• Bootsy's Rubber Band - Body Slam
• Bee Gees - Stayin' Alive
• Terence Trent D'Arby - Wishing Well
• KC & The Sunshine Band - Get Down Tonight
• Eagles - Peaceful Easy Feeling

Sadly, I think "James" itself qualifies as willfully obscure. It was the B-side to the "Standing In The Doorway" 12" (pictured up top), the third single from 1988's great Hang Time LP, and by all rights should be on the 3-disc A&M compilation, Welcome To The Minority. Unfortunately, the fucksticks in charge of this comp didn't get the memo that CDs last 80 minutes, so you may as well put all the B-sides and rarities on there because, you know, why wouldn't you do that? And that's not even factoring in the none-more-black cover art. Dicks.

"Oh, you thought this would be a picture of
Pirner's dreamy blue eyes? Fuck off, Soul Asylum fan."

Of course, that's why The Adios Lounge was invented. If the band's former label can't be bothered to give a shit, then allow me to celebrate the beautiful mess that is "James At 16."
Soul Asylum - James At 16 (Heavy Medley)
Whisky A Go Go, Hollywood
June 24, 1988
Lyrics

You didn't think I was done, did you? The Adios Lounge was closed for two months due to R&R (relocation and readjustment), so I feel like I owe y'all some bonus material. To that end, here's a full dose of music nerd: a reverse engineered "James At 16." I've taken the original 13 songs and edited them together to mirror Soul Asylum's original medley because, well, that's what I do. And while it's not as seamless as the band's version ... for obvious reasons ... I think it works pretty well.

James At 16 (Reverse Engineered Medley)

It's tough not to be impressed with the band's aesthetic and chronological range. Here's the list of songs again, this time including the year of original release.

• Prince - The Cross (1987)
• Buffalo Springfield - For What It's Worth (1967)
• Velvet Underground - I'm Waiting For My Man (1967)
• Godfathers - Birth, School, Work, Death (1988)
• Gang Of Four - Damaged Goods (1978)
• Wild Cherry - Play That Funky Music (1976)
• Ted Nugent - Free For All (1976)
• Gap Band - I Don't Believe You Want To Get Up And Dance (Oops, Upside Your Head) (1979)
• Bootsy's Rubber Band - Body Slam (1982)
• Bee Gees - Stayin' Alive (1977)
• Terence Trent D'Arby - Wishing Well (1988)
• KC & The Sunshine Band - Get Down Tonight (1975)
• Godfathers - Birth, School, Work, Death (1988)
• Eagles - Peaceful Easy Feeling (1972)

That's 13 songs cutting across multiple genres spanning a 21-year period of pop music history (1967-88). "Stayin' Alive," "Play That Funky Music," and "Get Down Tonight" were obviously goofs in the tradition of "Chevy Van," "To Sir With Love," and probably 200 other guilty pleasures in the Soul Asylum repertoire. If there's any surprise here it's the lack of "Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight" from the KC song. I mean, that's your moneymaker and they eschewed it for the song's more atonal qualities. Balls.

Photo stolen from my homeboy, Mike Sweeney. Taken June 1988.

"Wishing Well" is also a goof, but it was on the charts when the medley was performed, so it's more of a topical joke. Incidentally, and I know this is gonna sound shocking, but Introducing The Hardline To Terence Trent D'Arby has not held up well at all. I know, right? "Birth, School, Work, Death" seems like a topical joke because it's not a very good song, but "Birth, School, Work, Death" is a great line. I'll give The Godfathers that. That would be an excellent stadium chant. Let's make that happen.

I seriously doubt Prince was a goof, despite his horribly dated drum and synth sound, and occasional forays into cheeseball. Prince was still in his original prime in '88 and the motherfucker who put the Minneapolis music scene on the national map. "The Cross" was a great "Purple Rain"-esque song from his then most recent album (and concert film), Sign O' The Times. I'm putting this in the homage category.

"For What It's Worth" and "Peaceful Easy Feeling" are interesting references because they represent totemic bookends to that era of LA country-rock. "FWIW" is a little overplayed, but it's still a great song, and is essentially a punk rock song. Buffalo Springfield cut their teeth at the Whisky, so that's a pretty cool connection with Soul Asylum. As for The Eagles, it turns out they were a toxic virus created in a rogue CIA lab, at least according to the State Department document to which I was privy. There were heavy reports of infection in some place called Everywhere. That's how I feel about The Eagles.

More Sweeney goodness.

In 2012, everyone pretty much accepts the greatness of the Velvet Underground as a given, but in 1988, "I'm Waiting For My Man" was still a ballsy, outsider reference point. You know what changed? The compact disc. Suddenly, you didn't really have to hunt for The Velvet Underground & Nico, White Light, White Heat or even the upskirt live albums because if you kept driving you'd eventually run into a Tower Records. Not to sound like Old Man Davis, but it's weird how that's all changed. The CD store was an extension of the record store and while it was an obsession for me, until roughly 10 years ago, EVERYONE shopped for CDs. Now? Not saying they've disappeared, but think about how much iTunes and Amazon have revolutionized how we collectively purchase music. Did I happen to mention get off my lawn?

If the Velvets were a slightly left-of-center reference in 1988, Gang Of Four was off the damn grid. GO4 were English post-punks whose angular, funky screeds (like "Damaged Goods") were of a piece with fellow Brits like Wire and Public Image Ltd and influenced American punks like the Minutemen and Fugazi. Speaking of punk-meeting-funk, how many rock bands circa 1988 could've successfully referenced the Velvets and Gang Of Four on one hand and the Gap Band ("Oops") and Bootsy Collins ("Body Slam") on the other? I can think of exactly two: Soul Asylum and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Before you scoff, please note that the Chili Peppers' 1984 debut was produced by GO4 guitarist Andy Gill, who said as recently as last year, "The Red Hot Chili Peppers have obviously based their career on Gang of Four and they’d admit that." True, false, or somewhere in-between, there ya go.

L-R: Karl Mueller (bass, RIP), Pirner (vocals, guitar), Murphy (guitar, vocals), Grant Young (drums)

And that brings us to Theodore Anthony Nugent. Typically, the less said about Ted the better, but you can't deny the lyrical acumen of, "When in doubt, I whip it out, I got me a rock and roll band, it's a free-for-all!" I suppose it's worth mentioning that The Replacements also paid homage to the Motor City Madman on "Gary's Got A Boner," which cops Nuge's "Stranglehold" riff. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go oil my crossbow.

And with that I leave you these parting words from Pirner. While not specifically about the "James" medley, it certainly addresses why the medley may have worked, and maybe why they insinuated themselves into the mainstream.

"We've always been not punk rock enough for the punk rockers and too punk rock for the non-punk rockers. I think we're always gonna be there and that's pretty much by design. The records sound that way. You get a country song right before a jazz-influenced hardcore thing. You have to be open-minded, I guess, to stomach it all at once."
--Dave Pirner, 1995

MORE SOUL ASYLUM

Nice Guys Don't Get Paid - July 24, 2010

Mostly Just Turning Out Wrong - January 29, 2011