To our pleasant, idle-chattered, blog-reading afternoon surprise, it was one Doug Goldberg. He cruised in all shady-like, lookin’ every which way but loose before breaking out into a big old sh*t-eatin’ grin. He tipped his hat and tossed a raggedy burlap bag into my lap.
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And then, we listened. Besides, when whiskey-scented specters appear, we do what they say. And we’ve always been suckers for rock n’ roll cowpunks with a stylish flair for the dramatic (hence the divorce papers) and sick skills. We’ve seen Goldberg and cohorts whip audiences into a sweaty, drink-chugging frenzy firsthand with songs about hanging with friends, heartbreak, the “down and dirty” and drug-smugglin’ bliss. And we’re always feeling the horn section. Something about those horns makes partying in the moment feel as deep and sincere as third-grade patriotism.
Then just when you think you don’t care about nothin’ but a good time, front man Bob Jordan can change it up and bust out a ballad with a honey-man voice that makes you want to text message your Lovely that you’re sorry for being such a selfish jerk sometimes.
Since a Philly summer without a Transistor Rodeo show is like a winter without downing hot toddies while snowed in at the neighborhood bar, we highly suggest you hightail it over to their next show at Milkboy Coffee on Sept. 9. See you there.
Folsom Prison Blues, Johnny Cash
This is lesson one of any prison tune curriculum. I mean they made a friggin’ movie out of a gig Johnny played in prison. The Man in Black had a million songs about killing and the joint, but this is perhaps his best known. This song’s hero sings the line “I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die” and, moments later, enviously picture rich folks in a passing train drinking coffee. I’m terrified of any man cold enough to give killing and coffee equal weight. And I guess that’s the point.
Prison Bound, Social Distortion
Mike Ness is always singing about hard luck, drugging and fighting and from what I understand it’s pretty much all true. I once saw him punch out a skinhead fan at a show in Philly. In this song Mike sings about going to the place where “the tough guys come out even tougher” and where life is “colder than a pimp’s heart.” That sounds pretty chilly to me.
Jailbreak, Thin Lizzy
I can’t say that this is a favorite but I do tend to rant about it when I get pretty far into my whiskey and it plays on the jukebox. Anyone who has the misfortune to know me can tell you that this occurs at least three times per week. And usually involves projectile spittle. The part of this tune that gets my goat is the line “Tonight there’s going to be a jailbreak somewhere in this town.” I’m not a betting man, but if I was, I’d bet the house that tonight’s jailbreak is most likely going to occur at the jail.
High Plains Drifter, Beastie Boys
I don’t want to delve too much into hip-hop since about 60 percent of it involves the clink. I just want to pay a little homage to some of the best white-boy rap on record. This meandering tale of robbery, self-performed surgery (with pliers no less!) and eventual incarceration is perhaps the best track on the best Caucasian rap record. Although Snow’s Informer also farms the prison milieu it follows as a close 2,353rd to this milestone.
Up Until Then, John Gorka
Although most of this track deals with the events leading up to its heroine’s “30 nights on a county cot,” I think it fits right in here. Hell hath no fury… as they say. Before said heroine is publicly humiliated by her would-be suitor, he should have realized that she was completely hammered and a total badass. I still feel a twinge in my “personal zones” at the climax of the tune. This song reminds us that although our actions have consequences, sometimes beating the crap out of somebody who done you wrong is worth a short stretch in lock-up.
Mama Tried, Merle Haggard
This song actually brings a tear to my eye. As a youngster I was a bit of a handful. I remember when I was 17 my mom gave me a little calligraphied plaque that read, “I love him not because he is good, but because he is my son.” And she meant it; she wasn’t just busting my chops. I kind of pictured Merle’s mom giving him a similar gift. In this autobiographical song of Hag’s you really can feel his regret. When he turns 21 in prison doing life without parole he knows he broke his mama’s heart. For the first time he realizes what a fool he’s been.
18 And Life To Go, Skid Row
I’m going to stay on the autobiographical tip for just a bit longer. I was in high school during the era of hair metal and Skid Row’s first record was HUGE when I was 18. I remember an aimless summer afternoon back then. My buddy Mark and I had just emerged from a pawnshop in Elsmere, DE where we’d been browsing used handguns. We jumped into my Camaro and were heading to a liquor store to pick up a case of beer and spend the rest of the afternoon getting buzzed. This song came on the radio. Mark turned to me and without too much irony said, “Hey, you’re Ricky! I guess that means you’re going to have to shoot me in the chest!!”
Johnny 99, Bruce Springsteen
I’m not really a giant Springsteen fan. In fact, I’m not even a medium-sized Springsteen fan, but I do love the album Nebraska. This record was made on a cheap little four-track cassette recorder for about half a nickel. This fact alone has given hope to starving musicians across the globe. Most of the tracks on this record could qualify for this list. The title track, along with Atlantic City and a host of others are concise little vignettes featuring sympathetic, regular-guy losers who do crimes and get sent to the stir (or sometimes the chair!). I picked Johnny 99 because it sounds so damn upbeat and rockin’. Not many tunes about robbing folks and getting sent to jail for 99 years make you want to jump out of your chair and do the twist like this one.
I Fought the Law, The Bobby Fuller Four
This song, which has been recorded by almost every band, was originally written by one of Buddy Holly’s Crickets. The bassist, I think. It’s got only about three lyrics but they’re pretty cool. Mainly about breaking rocks and shooting his six-gun, he also misses his chick. My favorite thing about this song is the way that Bobby Fuller died only four years after it was a hit. It seems that his lifeless body was discovered draped across his car in Hollywood. He’d had the piss beaten out of him and died from drinking gasoline. The cops ruled it a suicide! It seems that Mr. Fuller split his time fighting the law and running afoul of the Mafia. He just couldn’t win.
