CONCERT REVIEW: Southern Culture on the Skids
- Al Muzer
HOBOKEN, NJ - "Too Much Pork For Just One Fork," "Fried Chicken And Gasoline," "New Cooter Boogie," "Banana Puddin'," "Tunafish Every Day," "Biscuit Eater," "Camel Walk," "Barnyard Ballbuster," "8 Piece Box," "Put Your Teeth Up On The Window Sill" ... the song titles dotting their 10-release, 14-year back catalog are not only a wide open window into the mind of guitar wizard/vocalist/head hillbilly Rick Miller, they're also an on-the-cue clue to the sound of his band, Southern Culture On The Skids (SCOTS).
A raw, gritty, hedonistic, Creedence-by-way-of-Link Wray-blast of surf-beat twang with a manic hillbilly gleam, grizzled backwoods vocals, a supple bass pulse, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink percussion and a winking devotion to not-at-all-subtle "sex as food/food as sex" lyrical metaphors with firm groundings in Stax/Volt, molasses-thick funk, drawlin' country classics, Delta blues and ultra-revved rock-a-billy; SCOTS left the sell-out crowd at Hoboken, N.J.'s Maxwell's salivating, satiated, soaked and satisfied after a steamy two hour Sunday night set.
Out to hook as many stragglers and doubters as they could as quickly as possible, Miller (looking eerily similar to overall-wearing Green Acres character Fred Ziffle), bassist/vocalist/red neck sex goddess-mannequin Mary Huff, keyboardist/guitarist/percussionist/ vocalist/XXXL overalls Chris Bess and drummer/percussionist/be-boppin' madman Dave Hartman wasted little time on formalities and kicked into the Huff-sung "Nitty Gritty" followed by a foot-stomping version of "Shotgun" with Miller on lead, a crazed take on "Whole Lotta Things," and a frenzied romp through "Daddy Was A Preacher, But Ma Ma Was A Go-Go Girl" with Huff, once again taking over lead vocal duties.
Pausing to let the band (and the already dripping crowd) catch its collective breath, Miller told a rambling story about his father buying a mobile home and installing a hot tub in place of the bedroom and plush orange carpeting throughout - the perfect introduction to an audience participation version of "My House Has Wheels."
A few more beers and a shot or two of Jager found the group blazing through loose-limbed versions of "Banana Puddin'," "C'mon 'N' Get It," "Firefly," "Jack The Ripper," "VooDoo Cadillac," "House Of Bamboo," "Dance For Me," "Camel Walk," "Soul City," "I Learned To Dance In Mississippi," "Great Atomic Power," "Greenback Fly," "40 Miles From Vegas," "Chicken Shit Farmer" and "8 Piece Box" that had the elbow-to-elbow crowd moving as one greased, buzzed and grinning chicken eating force until the band finally had to wrap things up around closing time.
A fiery red head fronting a doghouse bass three-piece, Austin's Kim Lenz and Her Jaguars opened the evening with guts, gams, grins and a guitar. Winning the crowd over with a combination of rock-a-billy attitude, blissful enthusiasm and a sassy, My Little Margie-like, girl next door charm; Lenz snarled, shook and sighed her way through songs such as "Don't Shake My Tree," "Howl At The Moon," "Trouble In Mind," "Choctaw Boogie" and "Only One" that left most of the men (and a few of the gals) in the club deeply in love and a majority of the women wishing they knew how to rock.
