Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

One of my favorite Robert Johnson tracks despite its divergence from the blues idiom with an unfamiliar, more commercial vocal and guitar style. Vamping an interesting danceable tune, Johnson hawks for a street vendor and humorously sells his craft and her wares with enough double entendres for everyone. He recorded it in 1936 at Gunther Hall in San Antonio, and the music is catchier than many of his songs, providing valuable insight into the different types of songs he would sing in performance. Instead of the usual topics of souls and hard. troubled luck, Johnson invites us to have fun and buy some of his girl's tamales or just loosen up: "I got a girl, says she long and tall / she sleeps in the kitchen with her feets in the hall / Hot tamales, and they're red hot / yes she got 'em for sale" to an infectious rhythm. I wish Johnson had recorded more songs like this.  Track This  is a recurring feature of Snobbin' that turns the music appreciation dial up and ...

The situation ain't real Like a world ending in pain Cataclysmic in poetry Like my great grandmother in 1925 What is the movie they're watching? Chaplin or Lloyd or the twin Diablo? There's a world alight like Watts Magically, the end. Ha, ha, ha. This is it. Foiled. Like a praying mantis. Poised for the kill. A reader of the red. The classic parabola. What's that? Ho ho ho. The life of Reilly? There's a world out there. Ask Mick Jones.

Jeffrey Lee Pierce was a blues man at heart, gifted with all the talent and power of a young Howlin' Wolf. His music borrowed heavily from the delta blues and other American roots music, but he took inspiration from these forms and created something new. Once president of the Blondie fan club, Pierce was a student of many musical disciplines, from reggae to progressive rock, but his commitment to the blues helped Gun Club, the band he formed in the late 1970's and continued with until his untimely death in 1996 at the age of 37, with varying lineups, become a powerhouse that ultimately released a few seminal records. Early Gun Club was a primal rush, often resembling Nick Cave's more manic output or slower Cramps sides, but its influences ran deeper than either. Pierce was a student of the blues form that followed his own muse and created records that are still far different than most of what is out there. Fire of Love draws primarily from blues with a heaping dose of ...

I wasn't originally entirely taken with Scott H. Biram. He wrote quite exceptional country and blues songs that were filtered through a lo-fi vibe that recalled later era Hank the third and Joe Buck. I didn't see the passion and originality at first. Biram is revivalist, but brings real soul and dedication to his bluesy rave-ups. I first heard the song, "Go Down Ol" Hannah" from his 2009 record, Something's Wrong/Lost Forever on shuffle mode. It sounded like a vintage 1930's blues song. I actually asked myself whether it was John Lee Hooker or Lightnin' Hopkins. When I looked and saw that it was Biram I was amazed. Like he was channeling an old blues singer, he gives his all and makes the song sound like an original even though it has really good production for a Biram album as most of them are fairly lo-fi. By the next song, he is as dirty as ever. As a one man band, he not only can bring different styles at a drop of a hat, but is clearly ca...

He finally found a place downtown near the club he was playing. A underused city parking lot that required no fee. He parked the beast and made note of where. He needed to make his getaway as effectively as possible. He was sick of playing these gigs. He usually opened for some upcoming metal band, whose fans hated his music. They tacked him on the bill because they loved it. He dealt with hours of inane hipster talk with little recourse – he played the blues, at least an archaic crossroads form of it. They loved it, but there crowd always wanted Metallica. He had no problem with the music. He just wanted to some day open for musicians more his stripe. Hell, he figured he deserved it. He had done penance long enough. He pulled his short, but solid frame from the car. His weather worn skin and brutalized stetson spoke of his days as an old dog. Long in tooth, but still strong in talent. His bones ached a little more each day, but he had his pride. He played blues originals and nothi...