Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

          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...

                         Hood's next group of songs is firmly rooted in the historical and very personal south and centers on Hood’s concept of the “duality of the southern thing.” “Birmingham” describes the unemployment and stresses of living there and trying to maintain an authentic identity. “The Southern Thing” is told from the perspective of a proud man who realizes the complexities of the south from General Lee to Martin Luther King, juxtaposing different ideas that play into Hood’s concept of southern duality. Hood has continually written more personal songs about the south and his identification with it throughout his career.             “The Three Alabama Icons” is set in hell and presents the history of three famous Alabama figures, prefiguring his later look at other historical figures, especially The...

The idea for the album formed in a conversation between Hood and former bassist, Earl Hicks, in which they discussed writing a semi-autobiographical screenplay about their youth in the south and the plane crash that almost ended Skynyrd by taking the lives of vocalist Ronnie Van Zant, guitarist Steve Gaines, and backup vocalist Cassie Gaines in 1977.   Their chartered plane, a 1977 Convair CV-300, converted from a CV-240 ran out of fuel and crashed in Gillsburg, Mississippi near the end of a flight from Greenville, South Carolina, where they had performed at the Greenville Memorial Auditorium, to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Assistant road manager Dean Kilpatrick, pilot Walter McCreary and co-pilot William Gray were also killed in the crash, while 20 other people survived, including guitarists Allen Collins and Gary Rossington. Bassist Leon Wilkeson, keyboardist Billy Powell, and drummer Artimus Pyle, who crawled out of the wreckage with members of the road crew, were also injure...

The first time I heard the Drive-By Truckers, I wrote them off as just another band in the long line of Uncle Tupelo wannabes. My girlfriend's cousin had given me a copy of Decoration Day saying it looked like something I would like. He was a big fan of mainstream country, and Columbia House had given him a free copy. On first listen I thought the band was copying the tried and true Americana formula, sounding very much like Uncle Tupelo with a greater southern flair. I thought they were just another in a long line of Tweedy and Farrar copycats, writing songs about their working-class roots and love of alcohol. The record just didn't speak to me. I filed it away with my other CDs, never expecting to return. I'm sure I went back to Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt, Whiskeytown, and other similar bands for my rootsy needs. I was late to the party on Steve Earle as well.             A few years later, A Blessing and A Curse came out a...