|
Souther fried comfort >> Talking (white) trash with Gov't Mule by JOHNSON CUMMINS
One of the only bands around today that still maintain the southern sound laid down by the mighty Skynyrd and the Allmans is Gov't Mule. Lead singer and guitarist Warren Haynes's thick drawl is forcing me to stifle the rebel yell caught in my throat as I chat with the former Allman Brother guitarist. He soon lets me know, though, that at their shows I'm more likely to rub shoulders with some hippy named Opal than some greasy biker answering to Jimbo. "I guess when I was in the Allman Brothers, we did have a large biker following," he admits, "but nowadays I'm seeing a lot of younger people who I guess you could describe as hippies." Hippies? Suddenly, I'm overcome with images of the rebel flag flapping limply at half-mast as gutted muscle cars are dragged off front lawns in favour of compost gardens. What's next? The Rock Machine and Hell's Angels having a "rap session" about their problems as they perform the "lost my car keys on the dance floor" dance? "The kids who come to our shows just think that current musical conditions are not really representing them," protests Haynes, "and I think it's positive that people are getting into older music and really opening themselves up to it." On Gov't Mule's new album, Dose, many genres of music are thrown into the mix, but the end result has an undisputed southern feel. "Growing up in the South, the first music that ever moved me was gospel and that led to blues and soul. Those influences will be with me for the rest of my life. Early southern radio would play bluegrass, rock and blues all on the same station, and I think that's what southern music has always been about." And rifle racks, too, of course. At Cabaret with The Potholes on March 9, 8pm, $10 plus tax
|
As soon as most people hear the words "southern rock," images of pickup trucks, rifle racks, wet T-shirt contests, trailer parks, biker weekends, Jack Daniels and people named Jimbo spring to mind. All of these things flood into my head in the time it takes to play the first three chords of "Sweet Home Alabama." In the '80s, Molly Hatchet, .38 Special and The Rossington-Collins Band tried to revamp the southern rock sound and even little piddle bands like Raging Slab hoisted the rebel flag briefly in the '90s. But the two bands that will always put a lump in the throat of every southern rocker are Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers.