Farce the Music: Merle Haggard

Showing posts with label Merle Haggard. Show all posts

Mar 7, 2017

Reginald Spears Tweets Illustrated

Jan 16, 2017

Notes Concerning Sturgill Simpson and Live Network Television

Notes Concerning Sturgill Simpson

and Live Network Television

By Kevin Broughton

Now remember, when things look bad and it looks like you're not gonna make it, then you gotta get mean. I mean plumb, mad-dog mean. – Josey Wales

Nashville, it ain’t like he didn’t warn you. And by summer’s end Sturgill Simpson had had a bellyful. Of you, and your suits, and your black little money-grubbing hearts. One of your favored kingmakers, some Mary named “Bobby Bones,” summed up your indifference to actual art by referring to him as Sturgis Simpson. To be fair, it was Garden & Gun’s cowardly betrayal of a dying Merle Haggard that finally set him off, but his point was unambiguous: I don’t need you. Keep promoting talentless hacks who can’t write songs and need machines to get their voices barely past the level of “vomit-inducing.” I’m done with you.

If country music is to be saved – as opposed to burned down and rebuilt somewhere far away from Music Row’s satanic pit – Sturgill’s blistering performance on Saturday Night Live will be seen as the turning point.

Most folks who’ve worn out A Sailor’s Guide to Earth probably anticipated the songs he’d pick to introduce himself to the nation on such a prestigious platform. December’s pleasant surprise of two Grammy nominations had millions asking, “Who is Sturgill (as opposed to Sturgis) Simpson?”

“Keep it Between the Lines” was a perfect how-do-you-do. On a concept album – in the form of a love letter to his newborn son – full of intensity, it’s a cut featuring wry advice that induces smiles. Pause the DVR quickly enough and you’ll see the hint of a smile from the man himself; but overall it was a warmup.

The real heat came with “Call to Arms.” Fitting, as Simpson used it as the show-closer throughout his recent tour. And for close to five minutes, the SNL stage positively burned. The band started fast. And the tune only built in intensity by the moment – by the measure, really – in a way you couldn’t have imagined and still might not believe after re-watching several times. Chances are you’re still shaking your head. If anyone’s seen a more hair-raising musical experience on live television, speak up.

It ended with a power-slammed guitar, to match an upturned organ stage right. Was there a semblance of a grin? Look closely:

Nope.

That face? It’s saying, “Get some. Who’s next?”

And Nashville, he’s looking at you. You brought this on yourself, Music Row. Maybe you’ll keep promoting a 40-year-old in painted-on jeans who thrusts his junk on stage and sings about finger banging drunk girls in his truck. Or tatted-up white trash clowns that duet with their Backstreet Boyfriends. But only for a short while.

Because Sturgill Simpson judged you on August 29, 2016, and you were found wanting: Guilty of crimes against art, integrity, and musical humanity. There will be no phone call from the governor with a last minute reprieve. Your death will be fittingly slow, because on January 14, 2017, judge became executioner at 30 Rockefeller Center and with two songs, started the gradual drip of a fatal drug cocktail.

Twenty years ago Todd Snider famously quipped – and you can find it on the occasional T-shirt – “In a perfect world, Steve Earle would run Nashville.”

In a couple years, Sturgill Simpson will.

Dec 14, 2016

I'm Sorry, This Exists: Christmas '16 Edition

This is all real merchandise (and other oddities).

Let's start with something I'm glad exists.... a Merle Haggard "ugly Christmas sweater"

Luke Bryan tumbler. Perfect for sipping Lime-a-ritas.

Brantley Gilbert pajamas with "Bottoms Up" on the ass. For your side chick.

A BG brass knuckles Christmas ornament. For when the cousins erupt into a brawl over who gets to play the PS4 next.

Gross.

Chris Lane socks might be your fix. I don't know why, but maybe.

If she wants to get "Nailed" this Christmas, these are for her!

The Average Joes comic book series featuring Colt Ford, The Lacs, and all your least favorite hick hoppers. I assume their arch enemy is Captain Irrelevance.

Class up the damn joint with this Fireball cornhole game. Probably not officially licensed.

Sam Hunt tank top with Bleeding Cowboys font! Yay!

Luke Bryan ugly Christmas sweater. Make it stop.

Grammatically incorrect Luke Bryan lyrics tattoo
(which are the actual lyrics)

Another kinda awesome item. A Janie Fricke snapback. On eBay!

Truck decal ... perfect stocking stuffer for that kinda racist uncle.

Dec 9, 2016

Cody Jinks, Vince Gill & The Timejumpers Cover Merle

Nov 23, 2016

WWE Country Reaction Gifs 18

When a dude hits on you with lines from a Chris Lane song

When an actual bro-country singer hits on you

Two old dudes fighting over whether Merle or Waylon was better

Every drunk white chick at the Luke Bryan concert dancing like...

When you realize you said you like a few

Rascal Flatts songs out loud

When Charlie Daniels comes on, everybody must dance

When your boss hires a Florida-Georgia Line

cover band for the office Christmas party

"You can stop talking trash about pop-country singers on

Twitter all day long instead of working or you can get a new job"

Nov 14, 2016

Monday Morning Memes: Willie, Merle, FGL

Nov 8, 2016

Country Singers in the White House

Nov 2, 2016

I Don't Even Know Who This Is

Oct 12, 2016

Album Review: Courtney Granger - Beneath Still Waters

A review by Robert Dean

So, Courtney Granger has a solo record, Beneath Still Waters, and it’s out Friday. It’s nice. It’s warm like bathwater, or a cool like a beer out of the fridge, welcoming as the Louisiana sun.

Granger is best known for playing some mean-ass fiddle in the Pine Leaf Boys, who tend to land more on the side of traditional Cajun/Louisiana music. But, on his first solo record, this is straight up classic country.

Beneath Still Waters doesn’t feel contrived or hokey, or worst of all, trying too hard. There’s nothing worse than some dude breaking his back to come off as a genuine. Even better? This record has nothing to do with Nashville - it’s pure Louisiana, so it’s free of any contextual chains that could poison the product. Instead, the songs on Beneath Still Waters feel like a love letter to George Jones with hints of Merle Haggard, Conway Twitty (lots of Conway Twitty) and you know what? They smoke.

If you’re on a steady diet of the stuff Jason Isbell, Chris Stapleton, or Sturgill Simpson are doing, you need to get Courtney Granger in your life. I think the reason this record hits so hard is that unlike a lot of the garbage chute of music that dumps daily, it’s always a treat to get a homegrown, crowd-sourced record that doesn’t miss a lick.

The playing is airtight, and the songs feel like gut punches. When you’re singing some barroom bummer tunes, that emotion, that vacancy needs to be front and center. That’s why so many artists fail: you can’t fake it. Like an actor, a good country singer needs to be able to draw from the well and pull some serious shit to make your heart ache with theirs. That’s the magic ingredient. Courtney Granger’s got that mojo up in his roux and ain’t nobody’s momma got better. This dude has done Louisiana proud.

Listen on Soundcloud.

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Beneath Still Waters is available Friday on iTunes, Amazon, etc.