The Reverend Horton Heat & Bare Jr.

DO NOT FEAR THE ROCK AND ROLL

So read the scrolling electronic sign behind the Melvins-haircut-sporting head of Bobby Bare Jr. as he swung his axe and belted out the tunes on The Brick Works' stage last Tuesday. With a near-deserted dance floor in front of him, Bare Jr. must have sensed that the fear was still afoot. Too bad. I guess when you're as potent as those guys, you have to get used to that sort of thing — people cowering before your presence as you rock them as they've never been rocked before. They must know what it felt like to be Ron Jeremy when he broke in "new talent" — the scrolling sign serving the same function as a few consoling words from Jeremy to the frail newbie.
"It's alright baby. Just relax…" Then he broke them in half.
Well, maybe that reference is a little raw for the purposes of this review, but you get the picture. Bare Jr., progeny of the '60s country folk legend Bobby Bare Sr., has inherited his father's ability to rock, although in a decidedly louder and more millennial way. Backed by a dulcimer player (the thing looks like a slide guitar but only has four strings and is plucked), Tracy Hackney, with bassist Dean Tomasek and drummer Keith Brogdon holding down the low end, the quartet rocked from here to there (wherever that is) and back again. Near the end of the set, Jr. gave everyone a friendly admonition.
"If you liked what you've seen tonight, go home and tell everyone you saw Bare Jr. If you didn't like it, go home and tell everyone you saw Creed," said the Southern gentleman. I told people I saw Bare Jr. Look for them to head back this way later this summer when they open for Aerosmith at the Sacramento Valley Amphitheater.
Not long after that — roughly two vodka tonics later, by my nearest calculation — The Reverend Horton Heat descended (from the lofty heights of his tour bus) to bless the crowd with his good ol' punkabilly country gospel. With a widow's peak to make Eddie Munster jealous, the rockabilly legend laid it on thick and swingin'-like.
Toting his Gretsch hollow body, The Rev ripped into some surf-staccato riffs on newer tunes like "Sleeper Coach Driver," and revisited some of his old favorites, confidently ripping out classics like "Fucked Up Ford," "400 Bucks" and the deep and twisted punk-swing classic, "Marijuana," playing right into the hearts of all the sweet young things (all of whom were over 21 years old) pressing up against the stage barrier. For a guy that's chalked up as many birthdays as he has, he definitely proves some rockers only get better with age.
"Rock and roll is not supposed to be pretty," said The Rev, laughing "I mean, take Bare Jr."
With that thought in mind as I watched the power trio that is The Reverend Horton Heat, I realized what is missing from so many of today's live acts — there's very little showmanship. The Reverend, on the other hand, is up there night after night playing like a madman — it's his bread and butter. He may not sell as many CDs as he used to, but The Reverend can still consistently pack a venue because he's got it. He's one part Chuck Berry and a few parts M.I.R.V., pulling it all off with a sense of suave you can't buy with stage props. It is innate, and The Reverend's got plenty of it.
Stand-up bassist Jimbo Wallace, who's been with The Reverend for nearly a dozen years now, thump-slapped the thick strings on his flaming standup in tight precision with drummer Scott Churilla as the punkabilly pioneer himself, The Reverend, sped through spring reverb-strumming, all the while singing like only a true swinger can. Any non-believers in the Heat Country Gospel show were bitch-slapped into submission and sent away converts. I know I was.
My slurred and sloppy notes indicate, no doubt due to the low amount of available light in The Brick, that the song "Party In Your Head" was "fucking rocking." There is also mention of the song "Psychobilly Freakout" being played and that "robotic precision" was witnessed from the bass player. Whoever took those notes I'd like to thank for their frankness, keen eye for observation, and attention to detail.

– M. Cameron Newell
– Photos by D. C. Ramirez

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