The Drive-By Truckers and their Southern Rock Opera: Part Four (The Excesses of Touring and Lessons Learned)

          Act Two opens with Hood's “Let There Be Rock,” which not only alludes to AC/DC's song of the same name but addresses how both Betamax Guillotine and Hood grew up in the shadows of great bands. While he never saw Lynyrd Skynyrd, he lists the bands he did see, while the band works up a rock frenzy. Like most songs that purport to introduce the power of rock music, “Let There Be Rock” attempts to be a blistering example of the form, yet Hood's clever, yet straightforward, lyrics temper it.    

          The narrator could be any young music fan growing up in America during the 1970s, listening to music, doing drugs, and drinking to excess. He drops acid at Blue Oyster Cult, is pulled over with weed and booze, drinks vodka and almost dies. He juxtaposes each binge with his experiences seeing classic bands. Both scenarios are equally important to his future quest at being a rock god, or at least, writing about them. The refrain reintroduces the rock: “And I never saw Lynyrd Skynyrd but I sure saw Molly Hatchet,” another southern rock band of arguably less esteem. The first time he mentions Lynyrd Skynyrd, the narrator admits that he might have seen the next best thing, “the Johnny Van Zant Band” and .38 Special, both Skynyrd family and the Van Zant family bands; Johnny was in Skynyrd at their height and is currently the singer of the reformed band. Their brother Donnie, who was never in Skynyrd was the front man for .38 Special. The narrator had tickets for a Huntsville, Alabama show in spring 1977, but the band canceled the show and rescheduled it for their Street Survivors album tour. That tour was their sixth major tour, beginning in January 1977 and ending in October but became their last when the band's plane crashed.

           Skynyrd's demise does not keep the narrator from attending more rock shows, and catching Ozzy Osbourne with Randy Rhoads before the lead guitarist lost his life in another plane crash. He also sees AC/DC with original singer, Bon Scott, on the “Let There Be Rock” tour, a pivotal moment in time that led many young fans to continue to believe in the power of rock music, and, perhaps, start bands to get in on the action.

            Hood continues his streak of semi-autobiographical songs with “Road Cases,” which projects that Betamax Guillotine will become stars. With tongue firmly planted in cheek, he lays out the band's desire to get "pretty road cases" to carry their equipment. As the band still traveled by van, these cases must have seemed like an expensive luxury. He continues using airplane crash imagery, writing “Got them pretty road cases throw them out an airplane, and they'll just bounce.” Hood doesn't stop there; he ratchets up the band's imagined rock star success, imagining that the band will get a tour bus and maybe an airplane. All after they paint their names on the road cases, of course. Hood again subtly references the Skynyrd plane crash, mentioning that there is a fear the plane will run out of gas just like the ill-fated Corsair.

            Rock star excess is a continual concern. Someday the band will sell the cases in order to pay off their cocaine dealers, as that is all they will be worth. After the band has outlived their usefulness and loses their fanbase, the cases will also be useless, except for paying debts. Then, they will have to finally account for all those years of excess. Cooley's song, “Women Without Whiskey” is a more meditative examination of the subject. With great finesse, he looks at the quiet tolls that excess takes, filling in the gaps between Hood's more decisive songs. Not to say that Cooley is not a masterful songwriter; he is slower and more methodical, focusing on melody and mood, and not directly furthering the story. In this case, the narrator attempts to kick whiskey, but realizes he needs it if his woman takes off. Whiskey becomes an all too common substitute on the road where “morning's a bitch with open arms and night's a girl who’s gone too far.”
          The next two tracks revisit the history of Lynyrd Skynyrd. “Cassie's Brother” by Rob Malone is about Steve Gaines' admission into Skynyrd, while Hood's “Life in the Factory” is a blazing rocker about the band's rise that saved them from factory work. Lynyrd Skynyrd remains entangled in the story of the Truckers and southern music in general; the band cannot seem to stress that enough. Their history lessons always return to the band.