Drive-by Truckers :: Los Angeles, CA
If I had been in need of a reminder that the are one of the tightest, most professional, ass-kicking Live rock roll band''s working today, then the one-two punch of the bands two night stay at the House of Blues in Hollywood was it. As of writing this, it's Friday and I'm still licking my wounds.
Whether they intend to or not, the Truckers live and breathe Southern Rock.
I'm sure many of you have read that the band did not intend to be a "Southern Rock" album, but it is, and it's the shit. All "crooked straight filthy-innocent," to quote the great singer-songwriter, Daniel Hutchens. You can dress a hooker up in an expensive dress, but at the end of the night it's still a paid-date.
Naturally, being a Drunkard, night one found me in full-on "fan" mode, funn-hogg front and center, shooting bourbon -- generally howling rebel yells -- and acting about like I did at the Truckers shows years ago back in Athens. Night two saw me don my "media" hat and attempt to act like a real human being. On both nights the band destroyed us with their sweaty, fucked up tales of love gone wrong, family feuds, and cocaine/handjobs.
We all just stared up at the stage, begging for more, scared to hit the bar or restroom for fear of missing one of Cooleys' Keith Richards' inspired solos. By the end of night two we all agreed with Patterson that "it's great to be alive." Go see this band Live.
Now.
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