
Since 1985, The Reverend Horton Heat has been tearing up America with his brand of Texas Rockabilly. Jim Heath (The Reverend Horton Heat,
guitar, vocals),
Jimbo Wallace (upright bass, backing vocals) and current drummer Paul Simmons make up the trio. The sound is pure hellfire and fast rockabilly rock. Sure The Rev has some slower songs, but this is a review of a live show, and he sure as shit didn't play those. Most of the bands music focus' on women, cars and
alcohol, though a lot of the songs are
allegory. A song about getting hammered with your buddies is probably about how fucked up your life is. Though it's been four years since the last album the band hasn't been taking it easy. They played over 200 dates last year alone. If the group hasn't played near you yet, chances are you're only a few months away from rock and roll salvation. The Rev also plays a signature
Gretsch guitar, upon which he unleashes The Hurricane. His guitar style of being able to play lead and
rhythm guitar at the same time. That's one of the things that makes this three
piece sound like 200 pissed off demons onstage.
So, I went to see the good Reverend a couple of nights ago, and as always I can say that I'm glad I did. This marked around the 13
th time I've seen the band, since I saw them for the first time 11 years ago, and they still blow my fucking mind.
The show opened with the band Backyard Tire Fire, a three
piece from Illinois. They have a really great, dark southern rock sound, heavy on the bass
guitar and kick drum. Really great songs about drinking and loss. I was more than really impressed with these guys and got a chance to talk to them after the show. They make beer and whiskey drinking music and they're damn proud of it. If you ever come across any of their five albums, you won't be
disappointed. The closest band I could liken them to would be Drive By Truckers.
Then the
cacophony that is Nashville Pussy tore onto the stage like harbingers of death and rock. If you don't know these guys, you're living in a rock and roll cave. They scream and tear into songs about hate and whiskey like they're trying to trade their damnation for yours. It's a sonic
sucker punch that makes you want to Belushi a bottle of Jack and kick the shit out of anyone dumb enough to be in a three county radius.
That only left us with the headliners. The band we'd come to see. The beautiful, the
hideous, Reverend Horton Heat. This band was made to play live. I have all their albums and love to listen to all of them, but they could never hold a
candle to seeing these crazed rockers preach their perverted messages of true rock loud and live. You get to see
Jimbo surf the side of his bass and do other things to an upright bass that only a very special few could. From a double handed slap to some of the fastest
finger picking you can wrap your brain around, you've got a friend in
Jimbo, and he will rock the shit out of you. The Rev himself is another sight to behold entirely. He plays that
Gretsch like he loves it, but only as much as he's mad as hell at it. The flame prints that lick up from his jacket
sleeves could very well be flames dancing from his hands as he plays so fast, by the time you hear the note, he's already played seven more. Another signature Reverend Horton Heat move was pulled out, upon where Jim and
Jimbo get side by side and play the chords on the others
guitar, while still
strumming their own. This is the kind of rock and roll showmanship that so many bands miss these days. Not only are these guys
amazingly solid musicians, but they know how to put on a show. They look like they're having fun, and they play to the crowd. The first set wrapped and the band went offstage. A short while later the band returned to the stage, now with an extra vocal mike. Jim thanked all the fans and bands that had played, then invited Nashville Pussy vocalist Blaine Cartwright to the stage for a song. They then tore into a cover of
Motörhead's Ace Of Spades. The place fucking exploded, as I'm sure you could imagine. I've seen a lot of bands cover other bands before, but this is
definitely at the top of my list.
Sure, I got hammered on
Budweiser and Jack
Daniels, but that's kind of how these shows should be watched. Hot rockabilly chicks, and hard as nails greasers mingled with
suicidals and working class
heroes.
Ok, so I like to hang out on the edge of the pit a lot, and some fucking suicidal crushed both my knees, but
damnit, I'm glad that happened. That's exactly the kind of show that I wanted this to be. Hard, fast and dangerous. So when The Reverend Horton Heat's
traveling rock and roll revival hits your neck of the woods, kick chastity and
temperance out the fucking window and get ready to rock.