“I Feel Used”: Release, refine, or fahgeddaboud it?

Hey Hooligans!

I’ve got a simple request for you. Since I can’t get live feedback on my songs by playing out, I’m starting to lose all sense of whether my new tunes are any good or not. That’s where you can help — and it’ll only take a couple of minutes.

Just listen to my latest tune below — a roadhouse blues number in the tradition of John Lee Hooker and RL Burnside called “I Feel Used” — and select one of the three options in the 1-question poll below it to let me know if you think I should:

a) go ahead and release the tune on Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, etc. (in other words, you think it’s great as-is and needs no further work), or

b) keep refining the tune and/or the recording (you can add specific suggestions via the comments form at the bottom of this page, if you like), or

c) just fahgeddaboud it (because it’s material that would only harm my sterling reputation 😜)

That’s it. Here’s the song:

Thanks for listening and for taking the time to “vote” on this tune. And don’t forget to vote in the upcoming presidential election! Our continuance as a democracy depends on it.

Mack

Under the Covers: The Yayhoos’ “Bottle and a Bible”

I’ve loved these rowdy roots rockers since I first heard them back in the late 90s and have been playing this particular song for quite a while now. Though I’m not a church-goer, I don’t think you have to be religiously inclined to appreciate the narrator’s tale of struggling to walk that fine line between falling into bad habits (in this case, drinking) and sticking to the straight and narrow.

Despite the band name, The Yahoos are anything but a bunch of naive country hicks. In fact, they’re basically a supergroup comprised of genuine roots rock royalty. The band’s most recognizable and well-known member (thanks to a certain live, televised New Year’s Eve performance and a string of over-the-top MTV videos) is Dan Baird, the gap-toothed frontman for Dan Baird & Homemade Sin and, further back, the Georgia Satellites — whose late 80s hit “Keep Your Hands to Yourself” reintroduced hoardes of synthesizer-loving techno-pop and New Wave fans to the rough & ready joys of loud rock ‘n’ roll.

Joining Baird on guitars and vocals is Eric “Roscoe” Ambel, former long-time guitarist for Joan Jett & the Blackhearts as well as an original member of the Del Lords, owner of the Cowboy Technical Services recording studio, and a producer of note in both rock and Americana circles. (A good sampling of his solo work can be found on the 2018 compilation Roscoe Sampler, from Lakeside Lounge Records.)

And then there’s Terry Anderson, the singer-drummer behind the outrageously fun and occasionally unhinged Terry Anderson & the Olympic Ass-Kickin’ Team, as well as Keith Christopher, who has played bass on recordings for everyone from Billy Joe Shaver to Paul Westerberg, Todd Snider and even Richie Havens.

Each of the band members is an accomplished songwriter in his own right, and they all seem to have been weaned on the same high-octane, unabashedly fun-loving brand of brash rock ‘n’ roll mashed with humorously self-mocking tales of woe.

“Bottle and a Bible” falls into that latter category, and was penned by Anderson and Baird, with some musical contributions no doubt by producer/guitarist Ambel. It’s included on their 2001 Bloodshot Records release Fear Not the Obvious, which I highly recommend as a starting point if this band is new to you.

I’m not the only admirer of the songwriting chops displayed on this tune. Another of its fans is none other than quite possibly the greatest songwriter of our time: Bob Dylan. Dylan featured the song on Episode 19 of his “Theme Time Radio Hour,” which was dedicated to the theme of “The Bible” and included songs on that subject by such notables as Kitty Wells, Washington Phillips, Blind Willie Johnson, Laura Cantrell and the Rev. Gary Davis. (You can find the full list of that episode’s singers and songs here.)

Aside from the fact that it bears some melodic resemblance to his own mid-tempo tune “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” I’m guessing Dylan was probably drawn (like me) to the song’s straightforward structure and the naked honesty of its narrator’s voice. The song doesn’t meander or beat around the bush, getting right to the core of the narrator’s internal conflict in the first two lines:

Stopped by the liquor store
On the way to revival
Headin' down the road
With a bottle and a Bible

Before long, the temptation of that bottle starts weighing on the narrator’s mind, and he openly confesses his self-doubts:

Part of me believes,
The other part wonders
If the bottle's gonna win
And take me under

The fact that he manages to make it to the revival and back by relying on nothing but his faith in the Lord comes as something of a surprise, constituting a great relief and quasi-triumph.

I got back home 
In the middle of the night
I knew where to go
'Cause I seen the light

And I made good time
'Cause I never stopped
Clear heart and mind,
I never cracked the top!

Like a lot of Dylan’s best songs from, say, the era spanning The Basement Tapes through John Wesley Harding, “Bottle and a Bible” manages to balance a kind of homespun wit with a sense of wonder at the peculiar pickles we humans manage to get ourselves into. There are also allegorical overtones packed into some of the simplest details. The songwriter’s attitude is sympathetic and never mocking, though it’s obvious he also can’t resist cracking a bit of a smile at the protagonist’s self-dramatization of his somewhat banal plight.

As for my approach to recording this great tune: I hewed close to The Yahoos’ arrangement and tried to keep things simple, adding only a couple of minor embellishments. Instead of trying to emulate (which I never could) Ambel’s nimble Telecaster fills and solos, I went with a few homely harmonica wails; and to emphasize the protagonist’s delighted surprise at his safe (and sober) arrival home, I threw in a couple of megaphone-enhanced echoes for the lines “I made good time” and “I never stopped,” as though he were praising himself in an internal monologue for his brave triumph over temptation.

Because, after all, who among us doesn’t feel like shouting about an unexpected success via a megaphone from time to time? ;^>

Mack Hooligan’s cover of “Bottle and a Bible”: