{"id":2448408,"date":"2019-09-06T06:34:04","date_gmt":"2019-09-06T12:34:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/?p=873957"},"modified":"2019-09-06T06:34:04","modified_gmt":"2019-09-06T12:34:04","slug":"this-is-normal-the-enduring-knotty-relevance-of-randy-newman-and-drive-by-truckers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/music-news\/this-is-normal-the-enduring-knotty-relevance-of-randy-newman-and-drive-by-truckers\/","title":{"rendered":"This Is Normal: The Enduring, Knotty Relevance of Randy Newman and Drive-By Truckers"},"content":{"rendered":"<div><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/DBT.jpg\" class=\"ff-og-image-inserted\"><\/div>\n<p>On August 26th, 2005, as Hurricane Katrina stewed above the Gulf of Mexico, the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/drive-by-truckers\/\" id=\"auto-tag_drive-by-truckers\" data-tag=\"drive-by-truckers\">Drive-By Truckers<\/a> played a show at Tipitina\u2019s in New Orleans. It was a <a href=\"https:\/\/archive.org\/details\/dbt2005-08-26.dpa4011s.flac16\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">two-and-a-half hour set<\/a>, 27 songs, most of them from the band\u2019s previous three records, <em>Southern Rock Opera<\/em>, <em>Decoration Day<\/em> and, their most recent at the time, <em>The Dirty South.<\/em> Released a year prior, almost to the day, just a few months before George W. Bush won re-election, <em>The Dirty South<\/em><em>&nbsp;<\/em>is an album about people pushed by outside and outsized forces that flatten the political and the personal while still leaving room for a bit of benign, indifferent providence and plenty of ripping guitars. On the album\u2019s first song, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=ubVlAbZsUTA\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">\u201cWhere the Devil Don\u2019t Stay,\u201d<\/a> Mike Cooley tells the story of a bootlegger on his deathbed and his desperate son pleading for advice: \u201cTell me why the ones who have so much make the ones who don\u2019t go mad\/With the same skin stretched over their white bones and the same jug in their hand?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Hurricane Katrina made landfall two nights later. The levees broke the day after that. Soon, nearly 80 percent of New Orleans was underwater. Thousands were trapped and stranded in their homes, the Superdome, the convention center or highway overpasses in extreme heat. Thousands more were dead.<\/p>\n<p>By the time President George W. Bush finally arrived in New Orleans, the Drive-By Truckers were in Spain for a festival. The day the Superdome was evacuated, September 4th, the Alabama band was in England, playing Birmingham, and on stage, Patterson Hood was saying, \u201cIt took them fuckers in D.C. about five days to turn on the TV long enough to realize that there was a problem down there that needed to be addressed. It\u2019s unfortunately gonna be too late for some people, but New Orleans will come back anyway, whether them fuckers like it or not.\u201d When he finished, the Drive-By Truckers launched into a song that would be covered a lot in the coming weeks and years, an obvious choice, but an apt one: <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/randy-newman\/\" id=\"auto-tag_randy-newman\" data-tag=\"randy-newman\">Randy Newman<\/a>\u2019s \u201cLouisiana 1927.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/lB0I6uxRglY?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u201cLouisiana 1927,\u201d off Newman\u2019s 1974 album, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/music\/music-lists\/500-greatest-albums-of-all-time-156826\/randy-newman-good-old-boys-66466\/\"><em>Good Old Boys<\/em><\/a>, is a song about the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. Record rainfall, bloated tributaries and busted levees led to destruction, displacement and death in seven states up and down the Mississippi River. And while nature can be cruel, it had nothing on the New Orleans <a href=\"https:\/\/www.washingtonpost.com\/archive\/entertainment\/books\/1997\/04\/27\/sweeping-away-the-southern-past\/1ab23be9-8b07-448f-b7ef-87c288e19f43\/\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">bankers and lawyers<\/a> who decided, without consulting local officials, to dynamite a levee outside the city, saving themselves by diverting floodwater to the rural parishes to the southeast. The bankers and lawyers <a href=\"https:\/\/www.npr.org\/templates\/story\/story.php?storyId=4831423\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">promised to reimburse<\/a> the people whose homes and lives they destroyed. Unsurprisingly, they didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>According to the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.smithsonianmag.com\/history\/devastating-mississippi-river-flood-uprooted-americas-faith-progress-180962856\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">Smithsonian<\/a>, the 1927 flood left approximately 637,000 people homeless, about 550,000 of whom were black or other minorities. President Calvin Coolidge took an extremely small government approach, foisting recovery efforts onto then-Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover and the Red Cross, which orchestrated a massive donation drive to fund food and shelter. Most of it went to white refugees while black refugees were effectively <a href=\"https:\/\/historicalreview.yale.edu\/sites\/default\/files\/files\/McMurchy.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">shut up in concentration camps<\/a> and forced into slave labor as rebuilding efforts began.<\/p>\n<p>In Newman\u2019s song, the callous, conniving disinterest of those in power is most famously captured in the clear-eyed refrain, \u201cThey\u2019re trying to wash us away, they\u2019re trying to wash us away.\u201d But a more pointed image comes when President Coolidge visits a disaster site and proclaims, \u201cIsn\u2019t it a shame, what the river has done to this poor cracker\u2019s land?\u201d The 1927 flood was devastating for poor and working class people across racial lines, but in this line, Newman captures the government\u2019s insipid response and its blanket erasure of all people of color. The kicker: Coolidge never even went south to see the damage.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/72oQy_M7h4Q?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>The 1927 Mississippi Flood had a distinct musical legacy long before Newman. In the two years after, Delta blues artists Bessie Smith, Charley Patton, Barbecue Bob and Kansas Joe McCoy and Mississippi Minnie all released songs about the deluge. Ninety years later, the anguish in those songs doesn\u2019t sound so much like a distant memory, but a scream of ceaseless d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu. That echo of a people being betrayed, ignored, left behind and left to die is what Newman captured on \u201cLouisiana 1927\u201d and the rest of <em>Good Old Boys.<\/em> And 30 years later, the Drive-By Truckers would work within the same cultural, political and sonic reverberations on <em>The Dirty South<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p><em>The Dirty South<\/em> turned 15 on August 24th, and <em>Good Old Boys<\/em> celebrates its 45th anniversary on September 10th. Both are concept albums about the Deep South \u2014 reverential of its unique spirit and highly critical of its myriad flaws \u2014 but really they\u2019re concept albums about America. They grapple with class, race, power, politics, disenfranchisement, violence, masculinity, madness, deceit and drinking \u2014 so much drinking. Both remain strikingly relevant in 2019, a testament to the songwriting and musicianship, but also to the continued failures of their shared core subject.<\/p>\n<p><strong>\u201cLouisiana 1927\u201d is one<\/strong> of the few Randy Newman songs not from a Pixar movie that\u2019s been utilized correctly in the mainstream. Unlike his first and only Top 10 hit, 1977\u2019s \u201cShort People\u201d \u2014 a song about prejudice misconstrued as prejudiced \u2014 or 1983\u2019s \u201cI Love L.A.,\u201d which became a local anthem despite the blatant digs it took at the city\u2019s inequality, \u201cLouisiana 1927\u201d wasn\u2019t layered with so much irony. That, however, made it an outlier on&nbsp;<em>Good Old Boys<\/em>, an album flush with Newman\u2019s trademark satire and sarcasm, best exemplified by its notorious opening track, \u201cRednecks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>For those unfamiliar, \u201cRednecks\u201d is a song in which Newman assumes the voice of an Alabama steel worker named Johnny Cutler who, after seeing Georgia\u2019s segregationist governor Lester Maddox <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=7-8WNL5bspg\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">laughed off <em>The Dick Cavett Show<\/em><\/a>, extols his Southern pride and ignorance as he liberally sprays around the n-word: \u201cWe\u2019re rednecks, we\u2019re rednecks,\u201d the chorus goes, \u201cWe\u2019re keeping the n*ggers down.\u201d For two brutal verses, Newman parades this boorish southern caricature in front of what would\u2019ve been his well-educated, coastal, liberal audience, before the narrator finally quips, \u201cDown here we\u2019re too ignorant to realize\/That the North has set the n*gger free\/Yes, he\u2019s free to be put in a cage in Harlem in New York City\/He\u2019s free to be put in a cage on the South Side of Chicago, and the West Side\u2026\u201d And it goes on like that, a tour of the segregated and ghettoized North, the music beneath Newman\u2019s voice lurching back for one more stop each time you think he\u2019s done.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/hTLHxpUQ_B8?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u201cRednecks\u201d has simultaneously aged horribly and remained salient as ever. While the overall politics of the song are \u201cgood,\u201d as&nbsp;Winston Cook-Wilson wrote for <a href=\"https:\/\/pitchfork.com\/reviews\/albums\/22308-good-old-boys\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">Pitchfork<\/a> in 2016, \u201cRednecks\u201d can now be seen as either edgelord bait or \u201cself-satisfied armchair-liberal-ism at cross purposes with itself\u201d \u2014 its point inherently nullified by its use of the language of white supremacy. To the extent that Newman does \u201cpull it off\u201d on \u201cRednecks\u201d (or 1972\u2019s \u201cSail Away,\u201d or 2008\u2019s \u201cKorean Parents\u201d), is that he doesn\u2019t use this language as a cudgel: \u201cHis characters\u2019 vocabulary pulls back the curtain on their self-hatred, so [Newman] doesn\u2019t have to butt in and do it for them,\u201d Cook-Wilson writes. \u201cHe illuminates their fear of becoming marginal, their search for fundamental truth in all the wrong places, and the dead-end rituals of behavior and thought that anchor their communities.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Newman always knew how incendiary \u201cRednecks\u201d was, so he wrote the next two songs on <em>Good Old Boys<\/em>, \u201cBirmingham\u201d and \u201cMarie,\u201d to flesh out the character of Johnny Cutler. In the former, Cutler presents a cheery overview of his life and his hometown, glossing over all that\u2019s unseemly or barbaric in both (the last verse, about Cutler\u2019s mean dog Dan, could be an allusion to the attack dogs Birmingham Sheriff Bull Connor released on Civil Rights activists). \u201cMarie,\u201d meanwhile, is the first of three piss-drunk piano ballads (along with \u201cGuilty\u201d and \u201cRollin&#8217;\u201d) in which Cutler fawns over his wife while admitting, \u201cAnd I\u2019m weak and I\u2019m lazy\/And I\u2019ve hurt you so\/And I don\u2019t listen to a word you say\/When you\u2019re in trouble I just turn away.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In these songs, and throughout <em>Good Old Boys<\/em>, Newman doesn\u2019t necessarily try to excuse Cutler, but parse the contradictions that define him, the South and the rest of the country. This impulse is rooted in Newman\u2019s childhood, much of which was spent in New Orleans, where his mother was raised and his father attended medical school. After his father\u2019s Army service ended, the family relocated to Los Angeles, but Newman retained a deep fascination with the South and he used music to maintain a connection to it \u2014 it wasn\u2019t just his subject matter, it was in the humid roll of his piano and the silt stuck in his voice. \u201cThere\u2019s this wanting to be part, wanting to be accepted in America,\u201d Newman once said, per Kevin Courrier\u2019s book <em>Randy Newman\u2019s American Dreams<\/em>. \u201cI think sometimes it\u2019s why I glom onto whatever Southern background I have so hard.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\">Courrier argues that <em>Good Old Boys<\/em> \u201cis about the cost of gaining acceptance\u201d and \u201cthe lengths people will go to achieve acceptance, and what we stand to lose in trying.\u201d For Newman\u2019s characters, this pursuit often involves a mask, that classic American defense mechanism. It reaches peak absurdity and cringe on \u201cBack On My Feet Again,\u201d in which a psychiatric patient tells a doctor about how his sister ran off with a millionaire wearing blackface because he was looking for a woman who didn\u2019t just want him for his money. The mask Cutler wears is equally confounding, partly because it doesn\u2019t seem like he\u2019s wearing one, and partly because the purpose of \u201cRednecks,\u201d as Courier suggests, is to reveal the North\u2019s hypocrisy towards racism in the South. But as Cutler\u2019s emptiness and self-loathing drunkenly stumble out on \u201cMarie\u201d and \u201cGuilty,\u201d equally revealing is <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=JIlad66IcHw\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">\u201cMr. President (Have Pity On the Working Man),\u201d<\/a> which, according to Courrier, Newman recorded August 9th, 1974, the same day Richard Nixon resigned. \u201cMr. President,\u201d seems like a sympathetic working-class appeal, the kind of folksy, labor-tinged tune Woody Guthrie might\u2019ve sung: \u201cWe\u2019ve taken all you\u2019ve given\/But it\u2019s getting hard to make a living\/Mr. President, have pity on the working man.\u201d There are allusions to Watergate on the song, but the context is also the 1973 oil crisis and recession, as well as the \u201cSouthern strategy\u201d and silent-majority dog whistling that got Nixon elected. On \u201cMr. President,\u201d Cutler is angling for societal acceptance via financial security, an increasingly rarified space in America, but partnered with \u201cRednecks,\u201d Newman captures the power of that special brand of white, conservative identity politics \u2014 the mask handed down to keep people from realizing they\u2019re pleading with the same person who has a boot on their neck.<\/p>\n<p><strong>If Johnny Cutler was struggling<\/strong> to make ends meet with a decent job on <em>Good Old Boys<\/em>, the <a href=\"https:\/\/books.google.co.jp\/books?id=Gjixu39X4tQC&amp;lpg=PA147&amp;dq=have%20steel%20jobs%20declined%20in%20alabama&amp;pg=PA147#v=onepage&amp;q&amp;f=false\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">19 percent decline<\/a> in Alabama steel jobs between 1978 and 1988 would\u2019ve likely left him in a similar position to the narrator of Drive-By Truckers\u2019 \u201cPuttin\u2019 People on the Moon.\u201d Patterson Hood\u2019s North Alabama tragedy tells the story of an autoworker who\u2019s laid off when the Ford plant closes and takes to low-level crime to support his family. He gets by well enough, but not well enough to pay for insurance or chemo when his wife gets cancer. At the start of the song he bristles at all the money pouring into NASA in Huntsville; by the end, he\u2019s working at the Wal-Mart and NASA\u2019s suffered the same fate as the Ford plant and the TVA.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Tm15HtwwD6I?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>Hood widely cited <em>Good Old Boys<\/em> when discussing Drive-By Truckers\u2019 breakthrough third album, <em>Southern Rock Opera<\/em>, and in April 2005 he penned an appreciation for the New Orleans weekly <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theadvocate.com\/gambit\/new_orleans\/news\/article_809aed26-1b6c-5fd5-8b3a-2c8f8dd810f0.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\"><em>Gambit<\/em><\/a>, in which he described the LP as \u201c12 perfect vignettes about all of us down here and how we think and view ourselves, as well as how we\u2019re viewed by the rest of the world.\u201d Hood and Mike Cooley, who both grew up in North Alabama, knew the culture and history of their home state well. They reviled the worst parts, adored the best, and having spent a decade touring the U.S. in pre-DBT bands, knew how people outside the region viewed two white dudes with thick drawls. They christened this tension \u201cthe duality of the Southern thing,\u201d and their whole discography is an exploration of its dimensions and contradictions. On their first two albums, this search had a more flagrant satirical edge that was very Newman-esque (it\u2019s not hard to imagine Newman singing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=hXzUmBYrapI\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">\u201cThe President\u2019s Penis is Missing\u201d<\/a>). On <em>Southern Rock Opera<\/em>, the search took on the heavier pall of dark comedy, which fit better with the increasingly earnest tenor of their world building and storytelling. What Cooley, Hood and later Jason Isbell \u2014 another North Alabama native, 15 years younger than his bandmates, who was in the band between 2001 and 2007&nbsp;\u2014 ultimately inherited most from Newman was the desire to give as accurate and honest an accounting of the South as they could.<\/p>\n<p>At 14 songs and 70 minutes, <em>The Dirty South<\/em> covers a lot of ground. It has its own natural disaster ballad (\u201cTornadoes\u201d), a stock car racing saga (\u201cDaddy\u2019s Cup\u201d), odes to a World War II vet (\u201cSands of Iwo Jima\u201d), Sun Records (\u201cCarl Perkins\u2019 Cadillac\u201d) and the thousands of musicians who never made it (\u201cDanko\/Manuel\u201d) plus the most devastating depiction of a doomed long-distance romance you\u2019ll ever hear (\u201cGoddamn Lonely Love\u201d). But the record\u2019s greatest achievement is the way it traces the intersecting paths of class, poverty, labor and inequality. On \u201cThe Day John Henry Died,\u201d Isbell reimagines the John Henry folk legend, casting the story of the steel driver who died beating a rock-drilling machine in a race through the kind of bloodless corporate speak (\u201cLabor costs were high\u201d) used to excise all things that might damper profits, like a worker\u2019s humanity (\u201cAn engine never needs to write its name\u201d).<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/1vomD3EDRNs?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>Hood and Cooley, meanwhile, spend much of the album exploring the all-American way these themes mix with violence, crime and cruelty. There\u2019s the autoworker thrust into number-running on \u201cPuttin\u2019 People on the Moon,\u201d the bootlegger serving prohibitionists in \u201cWhere the Devil Don\u2019t Stay,\u201d and the cast of crooks and criminals, who populate the triptych of songs about the notorious Tennessee lawman, Buford Pusser. Between 1964 and 1972, Pusser waged a holy war against organized crime on the Tennessee-Mississippi border; in return, his enemies killed his wife and blew up his house, but despite multiple attempts, couldn\u2019t kill Pusser (he died in a car accident in 1974). Pusser\u2019s exploits were turned into the 1973 movie, <em>Walking Tall<\/em>, which lionized the Sheriff and his Constitutionally dubious tactics. And when the film was remade in the exact same vein in 2004, DBT took it upon themselves to tell the other side of the story.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBoys From Alabama,\u201d \u201cCottonseed\u201d and \u201cThe Buford Stick\u201d don\u2019t try to glorify the Dixie Mafia or the State Line Mob, but just like Newman tried to do with Johnny Cutler, they present their stories with an empathy missing from the Pusser myth. Of course, this is easier when the characters aren\u2019t flagrant racists, but rather, for the most part, people with few opportunities just trying to survive in an unjust system the only way they can. On \u201cThe Buford Stick,\u201d Hood gives voice to one of those men in Pusser\u2019s sights, who gripes, \u201cI\u2019m just a hardworking man with a family to feed\/And he made my daughter cry\u201d; and on \u201cBoys From Alabama,\u201d he plays an imprisoned gangster intimidating\/recruiting a young man who\u2019s just been locked up for smoking weed. The narrator of Cooley\u2019s mob boss monologue, \u201cCottonseed,\u201d is less immediately sympathetic (he is an unapologetic murderer after all), but the song deftly speaks to the thin lines between criminals and people with badges.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/9TxTl7L38VU?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>As Hood would explain in interviews, much of <em>The Dirty South<\/em> was inspired by the hip-hop records DBT listened to while touring. \u201cOne of the only things we all agree on music wise to listen to in the van is hip-hop,\u201d Hood told the now-dormant website <a href=\"http:\/\/www.swampland.com\/articles\/view\/title:driveby_truckers_southern_discomfort\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">Swampland.com<\/a>. \u201cSo it was kinda a nod to Atlanta\u2019s hip-hop scene and it fit. It was a nod, a tribute, a salute, but it was also tongue-in-cheek because what we do is the dirty south too \u2014 in a lot of ways our subject matter is not real different. Like on the new record, a lot of the songs are about people who, out of desperation, turn to a life of crime. They end up doing things they never thought they would do, but they were forced to, and all that somehow tied in.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The album\u2019s title is a nod to the Goodie Mob song of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=KiuEFG0ZBd8\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">the same name<\/a>, and if you listen to <em>The<\/em> <em>Dirty South<\/em> alongside the Atlanta outfit\u2019s 1995 debut, <em>Soul Food<\/em>, you get a sprawling picture of oppression, the ways it\u2019s maintained and the lengths to which people will go to attain the freedom and basic respect they\u2019re so often denied. This is not meant to be a broad class-based argument that ignores the role of historic and systemic racism; the white characters on <em>The Dirty South<\/em> would never be subject to the myriad indignities black communities endure, as captured on <em>Soul Food<\/em>. But where these albums meet, where Newman\u2019s <em>Good Old Boys<\/em> also resides, is an American folk tradition built on people striving to be seen and heard, as individuals and as a community.<\/p>\n<p><strong>In 1928,<\/strong> one year after the Mississippi Flood, a traveling salesman-turned-politician rode a wave of anti-elite, anti-establishment populism to the Louisiana State Governor\u2019s mansion \u2014 which he promptly tore down and <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Old_Louisiana_Governor%27s_Mansion\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">rebuilt<\/a> to look exactly like the White House. Huey P. Long was a vintage American demagogue: Captivating, colorful, corrupt as hell and capable of selling you the shoes on your feet. He <a href=\"https:\/\/www.newyorker.com\/magazine\/2006\/06\/12\/the-big-sleazy\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">grew up<\/a> in north-central Louisiana, Winn Parish, one of the poorest in the state, though his family was one of the wealthiest in it. Nonetheless, when he took to the campaign trail, Long sold himself as one of the common folk, and vowed to fight tooth-and-nail for them. After an unsuccessful gubernatorial bid in 1924, Long knew winning the state meant winning New Orleans and its surrounding areas. Part of his strategy, Richard White writes in his biography <em>Kingfish<\/em>, was assailing the New Orleans political machine, which particularly endeared him to those parishes outside the city that were devastated when the levees were destroyed. He didn\u2019t spare any other state politicians either. During one debate in the town of Crowley, outside Lafayette, Long suggested that his opponent, Congressman Riley J. Wilson, was partly responsible for the floods: \u201cWilson has been in Congress 14 years, and this year the water went 14 feet higher than ever before, giving him a record of one foot of high water a year.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLouisiana 1927\u201d is the first in a Huey Long triptych on <em>Good Old Boys,<\/em> followed by <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=RzRmAEE7Kfk\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">\u201cEvery Man a King\u201d<\/a> \u2014 an actual campaign song Long co-wrote with Louisiana State University band director Jos\u00e9 Castro Carazo \u2014 and \u201cKingfish,\u201d which imagines one of Long\u2019s blustering stump speeches. In the latter, Newman captures the progressive bent of Long\u2019s agenda (or at least the way he made overtures towards one) across rollicking verses that soon slow with a heavy pendulum swing of strings to indicate the tyranny lurking underneath. Long was the duality of the Southern thing incarnate, and surely that\u2019s what drew Newman to him. In the middle of the Great Depression, he dragged Louisiana into the 20th century with projects that greatly improved infrastructure, health care and education across the state; he also purged the state government of his opponents and created his own secret police, the Louisiana Bureau of Criminal Identification, to deal with those who couldn\u2019t simply be fired. He proposed capping fortunes and redistributing wealth while demanding kickbacks from businesses that won state contracts. He <a href=\"https:\/\/www.wwno.org\/post\/huey-long-vs-media\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\">decried<\/a> \u201cthe lyin newspapers\u201d while running his own propaganda rag and using radio to spread his unfiltered message. He had a tenuous relationship with the truth and facts, but his constituents trusted him more than anyone else. Had he not been assassinated in 1935, there\u2019s a very good chance he would\u2019ve become president the following year \u2014 Franklin D. Roosevelt called Huey Long one of the \u201cmost dangerous men in the country.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" type=\"text\/html\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/GNZziX7oNHU?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p>In a 1981 essay for <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/1981\/05\/31\/books\/in-the-time-of-all-the-king-s-men.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer nofollow\"><em>The New York Times<\/em><\/a>, Robert Penn Warren, who was hired as an English professor at Long\u2019s beloved LSU in 1934 and later wrote the book on Long with his 1946 novel <em>All the King\u2019s Men<\/em>, recalled life in Louisiana during the reign of the Kingfish: \u201cIf you were living in Louisiana, you knew you were living in history defining itself before your eyes. And you knew that you were not seeing a half-drunk hick buffoon performing an old routine, but were witnessing a drama which was a version of the world\u2019s drama, and the drama of history, too, the old drama of power and ethics.\u201d Courrier quotes this passage in <em>Randy Newman\u2019s American Dreams<\/em>, suggesting the notion of \u201cliving in history defining itself\u201d is what Newman captured on <em>Good Old Boys<\/em>; it\u2019s also what Drive-By Truckers would capture on <em>The Dirty South<\/em>. This doesn\u2019t mean their great achievement is the way they articulate and chronicle the moments in which they were made, though both do that exceptionally. Rather, history defines itself when the past so blatantly burns within the particulars of the present, and that\u2019s what <em>Good Old Boys<\/em> and&nbsp;<em>The Dirty South&nbsp;<\/em>convey.<\/p>\n<p>Since Donald Trump\u2019s election, one of the preferred opposition refrains has been, \u201cThis is not normal.\u201d Indeed, the brutality inflicted over the past few years has its own terrible tenor, but the deeper tragedy is that, in America, maybe all of this is normal. It\u2019s normal for the rich to stay rich, for the poor to stay poor, it\u2019s normal for people of color to be imprisoned, beaten and killed and for the state to sanction it or even carry it out, and it\u2019s normal for corporations to exploit workers and for politicians to lie, cheat and enrich themselves, and it\u2019s normal for fascists and demagogues to string people along with empty promises and feed their resentments and biases, and it\u2019s normal for entire towns and cities to be destroyed in floods and fires and for the federal government to do nothing, and it\u2019s normal for people with no options to do what they need to survive, and it\u2019s normal for them to be punished for doing so. None of this should be normal. That\u2019s obvious enough. But here we are anyway.<\/p>\n<p>Listening to <em>Good Old Boys&nbsp;<\/em>and&nbsp;<em>The Dirty South<\/em> now can be satisfying and revelatory, but also complicated and frustrating. There\u2019s an argument to be made that, at their core, these records are just white men trying to explain other white men, often indefensible white men, and in the year of our lord 2019, that can feel about as necessary as another <em>New York Times&nbsp;<\/em>report from a diner in Trump country. But the value of these records lies in the artists\u2019 willingness to cover the totality \u2014 the comedy and the tragedy \u2014 of their subject, not from on high, but from inside the mess. And it\u2019s not that this is brave or courageous or commendable in and of itself. But it\u2019s honest. Honest in a way that all great art strives to be, and honest in a way that this country so often is not.<\/p>\n<p> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/music\/music-news\/randy-newman-good-old-boys-drive-by-truckers-dirty-south-873957\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">via:: Rolling Stone<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>On August 26th, 2005, as Hurricane Katrina stewed above the Gulf of Mexico, the Drive-By Truckers played a show at Tipitina\u2019s in New Orleans. It was a two-and-a-half hour set, 27 songs, most of them from the band\u2019s previous three records, Southern Rock Opera, Decoration Day and, their most recent at the time, The Dirty [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[50],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-2448408","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-music-news"},"acf":[],"publishpress_future_action":{"enabled":false,"date":"2026-06-27 10:09:05","action":"change-status","newStatus":"draft","terms":[],"taxonomy":"category","extraData":[]},"publishpress_future_workflow_manual_trigger":{"enabledWorkflows":[]},"distributor_meta":false,"distributor_terms":false,"distributor_media":false,"distributor_original_site_name":"KSPN The Valley&#039;s Quality Rock","distributor_original_site_url":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn","push-errors":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2448408","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2448408"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2448408\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2448408"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2448408"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kspn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2448408"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}