What If: Jason Isbell Never Left Drive-By Truckers

[purchase Live at the Shoals Theare] 

If you know me, or have read my blog posts (and frankly, there are too many to link to), you probably know that I’m a huge fan of both Jason Isbell and Drive-By Truckers. I first became aware of both of them when I received a copy of the Truckers’ album Decoration Day as a bonus from a record club. That serendipitous freebie helped to change my musical tastes, and led me to a number of bands and musicians that are now amongst my favorites. It’s a great album, and it was hard not to be impressed by the two songs written and sung by Jason Isbell, “Outfit” and “Decoration Day.” I later discovered that Isbell was new to the band, and was only in his mid-20s, younger than the other songwriters in the group, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley. Although Isbell was only in the band for three albums, I think that many fans consider this to be one of their best periods, and possibly their best. 

It has been reported that Isbell had been asked to take a break from the band because his alcoholism and drug use had made him unreliable; when he refused, he was forced out of the band. Isbell began a solo career, sobered up, and eventually released Southeastern, a masterpiece, which, along with his subsequent albums, has solidified him as one of the best, if not the best, singer-songwriter in the Americana field, and he has the awards to justify that. 

After the departure of Isbell, the Truckers went through a period of lineup changes, and the release of a number of albums whose quality varied, but all of which were good, until the release of a run of fine, politically charged albums, the best of which, in my opinion, was 2016’s American Band. The Truckers, particularly Hood, were at the vanguard of a reassessment of southern identity, what Hood had called “the duality of the Southern thing,” in interviews and in articles in the press and online.

Isbell, too, hasn’t shied away from political statements on his albums, and on analyzing what being from the South means, and he recently became the poster child for artists insisting that venues require COVID testing for admission. 

So, what would have happened if Isbell had stayed a member of the Truckers? I’ll try to keep it simple, and when I post this in some fan groups on Facebook, I’m sure that people more knowledgeable about the people and situations involved will have their own ideas, but that’s sort of the point of alternative history, right? 

The darkest, saddest, timeline would have had Isbell clean up just enough to stay in the band, but never truly get clean and sober. While he continues to write great songs, and play great guitar, at some point, he gets in too deep with his addictions, never marries Amanda Shires, and like his close friend Justin Townes Earle, overdoses. 

I’d hope, though, for a better outcome—pressured by the members of the Truckers and other friends, Isbell cleans up and becomes an equal songwriting partner in the band, which goes on to greater success, as the 3-4 Isbell songs per album replace some of the weaker cuts, and albums such as American Band, which have little or no filler, become epic double CDs that receive both commercial and critical acclaim. Maybe, at some point, while the band is on a hiatus, Isbell releases a solo album or two, which highlight his individual talent. Maybe he eventually decides to leave the band to go solo, or maybe he’s happy in the band setting, with the occasional solo release or collaboration. 

Luckily, in the real world, Isbell and the Truckers reconciled. Back in 2013, right around the time that Southeastern came out, I went to the Clearwater Festival where both Isbell and Hood were scheduled for solo sets, and they sat in with each other for a song. In 2014, Hood, Cooley and Isbell performed at a benefit at the Shoals Theatre in Florence, Alabama, and there have been a few other instances of Hood and Isbell popping on stage during gigs. 

A couple of weeks ago, Isbell curated a two day festival, ShoalsFest, where both his band, the 400 Unit, and the Truckers, were scheduled to perform. So, if you want a sense of what it might have been like had Isbell had never left the Truckers, the video above is a performance of (most of) the song “Outfit,” featuring Hood and Cooley joining Isbell and the 400 Unit {the original video, of "Decoration Day," was taken down). But maybe an even better example is the video below, from the night after ShoalsFest, where Isbell joined the Truckers for a couple of songs. The sound isn’t great, but, damn. Just damn.

Wedding: Drive-By Truckers’ Decoration Day Album

[purchase]

I’ve written about the Drive-By Truckers many times, maybe more than any other band, in part because they are one of my favorites, and, I think, in part because their songs tend to be about unusual topics, lending themselves to discussion on a theme-based blog such as this.

That the Decoration Day album was my gateway drug to the Truckers was discussed in a prior post, but in thinking about the Wedding theme, it struck me that many of the songs on the album, in some way, related to weddings, or at least, to marriage or getting married, which is close enough. And I’m not even going to get into the fact that at least three of the songs on the album were written by Patterson Hood in reaction to the breakdown of his marriage.

Decoration Day starts off with “The Deeper In,” which is about Patty and Allen Muth, who were, at the time, the only couple in the United States who were imprisoned for consensual sibling incest. Which sounds pretty bad, but there are many extenuating circumstances, not the least of which was that because their own parents were pretty awful people who lost their own parental rights, the couple at issue never met until Patty was 18 years old. They held themselves out as married, although they weren’t, and had four children, who were taken from them. You can read an article about them that was in Esquire magazine here (Hood changed the location from Wisconsin to Michigan in the song to make the last line rhyme better). Following the United States Supreme Court decision in Lawrence v. Texas striking down homosexual sodomy laws, Allen Muth appealed his conviction, but the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals dismissed his suit based on a narrow, and criticized, interpretation of Lawrence as being limited only to homosexual sodomy cases. Coincidentally, Allen Muth was, for most of his working life, a long haul trucker. Here’s a live version of the song recorded in Louisville: in 2010.



The fourth song on Decoration Day is “Marry Me,” one of the band’s best rockers. Written by Mike Cooley, it is filled with the clever wordplay that makes his songs so much fun. It’s hard to pick a favorite. There are the opening lines:

Well, my daddy didn’t pull out, but he never apologized
Rock and Roll means well, but it can’t help tellin’ young boys lies. 

Or the end of the second verse:

There’s a fool on every corner, on every street, in every one
and I’d rather be your fool nowhere than go somewhere and be no one's 

 Or the last line before the final chorus:

Just cause I don’t run my mouth don’t mean I got nothing to say.

According to Cooley, the song was inspired by a friend who, during sex, yelled out the name of a former girlfriend, Mary, and, thinking quickly, changed it to “Marry me.”

Here’s a version of the song recorded in the band’s hometown, Athens, Georgia in 2013, at the actual wedding of Jenn Bryant, long-time member of the extended DBT family.



Finally, “My Sweet Annette,” tells the tale of Hood’s great uncle (not the same one he wrote about in “The Sands of Iwo Jima”) who ditched his betrothed, Annette, at a pre-wedding party and eloped with the maid of honor, Marilee. In the song, Hood provides some moral ambiguity—his uncle and Marilee never intended to hurt Annette, but, as the song notes, Lord have mercy when two people get alone, and you can sense the guilt he had in leaving Sweet Annette . . . standing at the altar.

This version of the song, recorded in 2012 in Gainesville, includes fiddle from Scott Danborn, of Centro-Matic, who played on the album track.



O.K. One more—Jason Isbell, who joined the Truckers in time to contribute two possibly perfect songs to Decoration Day, released his first solo album in 2007, after leaving the band. That album, Sirens of the Ditch included a song, “Shotgun Wedding,” that begs to be included here. It is, reportedly, about a creepy acquaintance of Isbell’s who liked pregnant women.

Songs South: The Southern Thing/The Three Great Alabama Icons

The Drive-By Truckers: The Southern Thing  
The Drive-By Truckers: The Three Great Alabama Icons
[purchase]

For our last theme, Jukebox, I somehow figured out a way to write about the Gettysburg Battlefield. However, the connection between this theme, Songs South, and the Civil War, not to mention the war’s continuing influence on American culture as we approach the 150th anniversary of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, is certainly more obvious. Being born in, and having lived my whole life in the North, though, I have to admit that I don’t have personal knowledge of what Southerners think, and to be fair, not all Southerners, or Northerners, for that matter, think the same thing.

But what I want to start off by discussing, and I’ll get to the music eventually, is the fact that throughout the South, Confederate politicians, generals and other “heroes” are honored with monuments, school names, and maybe most egregiously, by the Federal Government with at least 10 Army bases named for generals who took up arms against the very forces that now honor them (and in other inexplicable ways). President Obama, the country’s first African-American president (whose wife’s maternal great-great-great-grandmother, Melvinia Shields, was a slave) has even sent a wreath to be laid at the Confederate Memorial in the Arlington National Cemetery (on land that was formerly Robert E. Lee’s home, and which is bordered by the Jefferson Davis Memorial Highway), despite a petition signed by many prominent historians urging him not to do so. To again reference petition signer Professor McPherson, “I don’t think it appropriate for a president to send a wreath honoring a group that tried to break up the United States.”

I also don’t get it. Benedict Arnold was one of the most effective American generals in the Revolutionary War until he switched sides, and did some damage for the Brits (including, interestingly, capturing Richmond, the future Confederate capital). But there isn’t a Fort Benedict Arnold anywhere, or a Benedict Arnold High School. (Yes, there are a few historical markers commemorating his pre-traitorous accomplishments, and a few that generally commemorate his achievements, but simply omit his name, but had he never turned traitor, things would have been very different.) We don’t honor Aldrich Ames or Tokyo Rose, or John Walker, Jr. or any of the Americans who have assisted Al Qaeda or ISIS. And I suspect that many of the supporters of honoring Confederate “heroes” who took up arms against Americans are the same people who still call Jane Fonda a traitor for having expressed support for the North Vietnamese government (but not actually, you know, shooting any Americans).

It’s actually pretty clear to me: Article III, Section 3 of the U.S. Constitution states:

Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. 

And while I wasn’t there, I’m pretty confident that people like Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Nathan Bedford Forrest (who likely led a massacre of black troops at Fort Pillow and was an early leader of the Klan), and the officers and men that they commanded were “levying war” against the United States. I don’t buy the arguments made by Southern apologists that secession wasn’t illegal—it was—or that no Confederate was convicted of treason—that was an embarrassing matter of political expediency, not to mention that the 14th Amendment made it clear that anyone engaged in acts of “rebellion” had certain rights taken away.

Much has been written about the Southern “Lost Cause” nostalgia, and all of that is too much to tackle in what is, really, a music blog, so let's talk about music. There are few bands that are as committed to analyzing their Southern identity as the Drive-By Truckers (who I have written about many, many times). In fact, there may not be any other bands that do so to the degree that the Truckers do. They come by it naturally—the founding members, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley, are from Alabama, and the band is essentially centered in Athens, Georgia. But Hood has been especially vocal about the fact that his upbringing was not traditional—his father, David Hood, is a legendary Muscle Shoals sideman and producer, who appeared on countless great records with black musicians—and his family was anti-segregation when that was not the popular thing. And Athens, where he ultimately settled as an adult and where he lives, is a liberal bastion in a conservative state.

Southern Rock Opera is considered to be the Truckers’ defining album, and while it may not be my favorite (I like a couple of the later ones with Jason Isbell a little better), it clearly is the one that not only moved the band into the public eye, it crystalized their viewpoint and, for better or worse, set them up as analysts of what Hood, in “The Three Great Alabama Icons,” called “the duality of the Southern Thing.” In an excellent essay for The Bitter Southerner website in 2013, Hood discussed the legacy (and burden) of Southern Rock Opera, and defined the “duality of the Southern thing” as

being from a region that is known for great music and literature and art and something called “Southern hospitality,” but is also known for Jim Crow laws, slavery, racism and the Ku Klux Klan. I talked about being fiercely proud of the good parts of my heritage and mortified and ashamed of the bad parts, the ones that too often define how other people perceive us. 

And that’s what both of these songs are about.

“The Southern Thing,” is a song which Hood wrote to tie the whole project together. It is, stylistically, probably the most “Southern Rock” song on the album, and it describes, with some examples, the duality that he feels as a Southerner who is proud of his identity, even if he doesn’t agree with every—even most—of the stereotypes of that identity. Better you should read the lyrics, than for me to try to summarize them.

The next song on Southern Rock Opera is “Icons," a spoken word essay about Ronnie Van Zant, Bear Bryant and George Wallace, as paradigms of the duality, and points out that there were Southerners who were against segregation and racism, just as there were Northerners who supported it. But the song is mostly about Wallace, who as the song notes was an avid segregationist and racist, yet, at the end of his career, “opened up Alabama politics to minorities at a rate faster than most Northern states or the Federal Government. And Wallace spent the rest of his life trying to explain away his racist past, and in 1982 won his last term in office with over 90% of the black vote.” Despite that, Hood consigns Wallace to hell,

not because he's a racist… His track record as a judge and his late-life quest for redemption make a good argument for his being, at worst, no worse than most white men of his generation, North or South… But because of his blind ambition and his hunger for votes, he turned a blind eye to the suffering of Black America. And he became a pawn in the fight against the Civil Rights cause.

Hood notes in the Bitter Southerner piece that this song is, for the most part, written from the viewpoint of his father. He also mentions that Wallace’s grandson is a big fan of the Truckers.

Interestingly, when they perform the songs live, they switch the order, which makes sense from a performance standpoint—in essence “Icons” acts as an introduction to the more rocking “Southern Thing.” Here’s a video from a 2012 show (recorded and edited by DBT fan extraordinaire “Jonicont”) that shows this—and that Hood goes way off script, to make some topical political points, without losing the underlying message.

Leftovers (Gravity): Gravity’s Gone

Drive-By Truckers: Gravity’s Gone
[purchase]

After Thanksgiving, we at Star Maker Machine have typically run a “Leftovers” theme, letting the writers go back and revisit the themes we wrote about in the past year, and either posting something that wasn’t finished in time, or an idea that never even got started.

When I looked at the 42 different posts I wrote in 2014, I realized that I had essentially written twice for each of the year’s themes, except for one—Gravity. I actually suggested this theme, and thought that it would be pretty popular, but it only prompted five posts. We’ve had problems for the past few years getting people to post. I don’t know if it is just the inevitable burnout effect, or that mp3 based blogs are fading out, or we haven’t recruited enough (or the right) writers, recently, the number of posts, and regular writers, has been dropping.

It’s a bit disheartening, because the decrease in new posts has translated into a decrease in the number of page views. Not only that, but I’ve personally written almost a third of all of the posts this year, so far. Four writers have accounted for nearly 85% of the posts on the site. I think that the writing remains strong, and we have at least one new writer who seems to be interested. However, there have been times, many times, in fact, that I’ve thought about quitting entirely, or starting my own blog to write about whatever I want. But I haven’t, and I think that as long as there are other people who want to keep the SMM flame alive, I’ll keep writing. Not just for the tradition, or out of laziness or out of some sort of duty, because SMM was the first place that I broke through my fears and put my writing out to the public.

No—I’m going to keep writing here because I like doing it. I enjoy the idea of having a prompt force me to make a musical connection. Now, when I first started writing here way back in December of 2011, the themes were surprises, and I would wake up on Sunday morning, eager to see what Darius had come up with. Now that I’m a co-moderator, though, I am involved, along with Kkafa, in picking the theme, which has changed the way I react to them, but even when I suggest one, I don’t always know what I’m going to write about. I enjoy contributing to this blog. I enjoy the creative outlet, I enjoy sharing my opinions and telling my stories, and I enjoy the feedback that I sometimes get (mostly on Facebook—and if you aren’t a member of our page, you should be).

The Gravity theme was, as I wrote at the time, inspired by seeing the band Barnaby Bright at a small concert at a local church. I was impressed by them, and their song “Gravity,” and realized that this force of nature was a common subject for songwriters. There is no question in my mind that I considered trying to get a second post in, about the Drive-By Truckers’ song “Gravity’s Gone,” but it never happened.

“Gravity’s Gone” is a Mike Cooley song. Until this year’s English Oceans, Cooley usually only had a few songs on each album, and most of them are gems. This one is no different. Written during a long, exhausting tour, Cooley felt that things were getting a little out of control, and although he has been quoted as saying that the song, “doesn’t really make a lot of sense, and it wasn’t supposed to,” you can hear his contempt for what was going on in the clever wordplay:

Between the champagne hand jobs and the kissing ass by everyone involved
Cocaine rich comes quick and that's why the small dicks have it all.

But, ultimately, the heart of the song, where you can hear Cooley’s frustration, is in the chorus—

So I'll meet you at the bottom if there really is one
They always told me when you hit it you'll know it
But I've been falling so long it's like gravity's gone and I'm just floating

And that’s sort of how I’m feeling about our little blog here. Are we heading down to the bottom? I guess if we get there, I’ll know it. As long as we are still alive, though, I’m going to keep floating along, putting my thoughts out into the interwebs.

Here’s a bonus video of the band, still including Jason Isbell (who left the Truckers after this album), playing a mostly acoustic version of the song at a record store in Nashville (I am compelled to note that my son met Mr. Isbell, his fellow Nashville resident, last week).

Offensive: GG Allin

[purchase a documentary]

Time to really go for it here.

I first heard about GG Allin from the early Drive-By Truckers song “The Night GG Allin Came to Town.” As Patterson Hood tells the story, he and Mike Cooley were living in Memphis in 1991 as their first band, Adam’s House Cat, was disintegrating. They were poor, miserable and hated Memphis. GG Allin played the Antenna Club on November 16, and Hood and Cooley didn’t go—they were broke and weren’t fans. But the next morning, they were at a local restaurant, filled with an older crowd, just after church, and they overheard a couple, described in one version of the story as Thurston Howell III and Lovey, reading an article about the show in the local free paper, and being generally horrified. The lyrics to the song are pretty graphic, but here’s a transcription of the actual article at issue, and it is even better. For example:

To put it bluntly, Allen [sic] grossed out the audience at The Antenna Club. He defecated on the stage, then appeared to eat it and spit at the patrons. Allen, who is the lead singer, also beat his forehead bloody with a beer bottle and put a microphone up his rectum. The drummer performed naked.

My favorite line from the article is, though:

G.G. Allen will not be invited back to the Antenna Club, [club owner] McGehee said, although "people would pay for them to come back. He's got everyone talking.”

An excerpt from this very performance is the video above—it is offensive, but doesn’t include any of the feces-related material. (It also cuts off part way through—but if you aren’t satisfied, just Google him, and you will find many more videos not suitable for, well, pretty much anything.)

Allin was a pretty disgusting character. Literally born Jesus Christ Allin, to a spectacularly delusional and dysfunctional set of parents, Allin probably could have used someone to set a few boundaries. Instead, Allin described his childhood as “very chaotic. Full of chances and dangers. We sold drugs, stole, broke into houses, cars. Did whatever we wanted to for the most part – including all the bands we played in. People even hated us back then."

A drug addict and violent criminal, Allin served time for "assault with intent to do great bodily harm less than murder" on a female companion, and his psychological evaluation diagnosed him as having a “mixed personality disorder with narcissistic, borderline and masochistic features.” Before accepting a plea bargain, Allin claimed that the conduct at issue was consensual, and admitted to cutting the woman, burning her, and drinking her blood, but argued, in mitigation, that she did the same thing to him. So, that made it O.K.

After getting released from prison in March, 1991, Allin went on tour, which was documented in a film directed by Todd Phillips, who later directed the slightly less offensive, but substantially more successful Hangover movies.

In June, 1993, Allin was playing The Gas Station on the Lower East Side of New York, and something happened during the second song that angered Allin (accounts vary as to what that was, but it probably didn’t take much). Of, course, he trashed the club, then walked out, naked and covered in blood and feces, followed by his fans. He ended up at a friend’s apartment, continued to use drugs and overdosed. Allin died wearing a silver Nazi helmet. Here’s a first hand account of Allin’s last night, written by the legendary Legs McNeil, which differs in many details from the Wikipedia account. McNeil’s version is more fun to read, though, and better written.

Allmusic calls Allin “arguably the most degenerate and outrageous figure in rock history.” And based on my research, it seems like a pretty good argument.

Hotels and Motels: Super 8

[purchase Southeastern]

If you have spoken to me about music over the past year or so, you probably know that my favorite album of 2013 was Jason Isbell’s Southeastern. In fact, it is probably the best album that I have heard in years. And I’m not alone in singing (actually just talking) its praises. It made a ton of year-end best lists, topping some, and has been nominated for all sorts of awards. Although for some reason, WFUV, which you would expect would be all over this disc, never really committed to it. Southeastern’s incredible songwriting, singing and playing, when coupled with Isbell’s story of talent, addiction, leaving a band, marriage and redemption scored Isbell about as much publicity as you can get playing the type of confessional Americana music that he plays. He has been on Letterman (who loves him) and Conan and has been featured on NPR and on the CBS News. But with the music business being what it is, the album has probably sold less in total than some no-talent pre-fab tween pop tart sells in a day.

For the most part, Southeastern is a pretty mellow affair, but its songs’ messages are anything but laid back. There are lots of songs that can be directly or indirectly tied to his life story, and one, “Elephant,” about a woman dying of cancer, that is literally brilliant. Almost every song has imbedded itself into my head, so that I couldn’t tell you what song is my favorite.

The album had just come out last summer, right before my family and I were going to see him perform at the Clearwater festival. I’ve mentioned that performance before, mostly in the context of how great it was that his former colleague in the Drive-By Truckers, Patterson Hood, sat in on one song, and Isbell returned the favor during Hood’s set. Especially since Hood was one of the people who was instrumental in essentially kicking Isbell out of the band when his drinking became too much of a problem. (Clearly, they have buried the hatchet—just the other day, Isbell, Hood and Trucker Mike Cooley performed an entire show together for a benefit.)

Although I had heard the album, it was still new, and hearing Isbell perform the songs, basically solo, was thrilling. Even my wife, who was never the big DBT fan that my son and I are, was blown away. Then, we found out that Isbell, with the full band, was going to be playing at Lincoln Fucking Center, as part of a series of pretty well-respected artists from across the musical spectrum—including jazz, opera and musical theater. I went with my son, his girlfriend and a musician friend of mine who was unfamiliar with Isbell (my wife had a prior commitment). It was an incredible show, in an incredible venue. The entire broadcast from PBS is here, and it is primarily songs from Southeastern, with some older songs and some Truckers classics.

The set ends with “Super 8,” the one real rocker on the album, a Stones-influenced rave about the craziness and danger of life on the road, particularly in cheap motels. In a recent piece in, yes, The Wall Street Journal, debuting the official video for the song, which is above, Isbell was quoted as saying: “This song is one story built out of moments from many different actual nights. Things that are funny now, but weren’t funny at all when they were happening. The song took a couple hours to write, but years to live through.”

 By the way, after “Super 8,” the band encored with an actual Stones song, “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking,” a part of which you can hear at the end of the video.

And have I mentioned how much I liked Southeastern?

Scrabble Value Letters (Z): Zip City

Drive-By Truckers: Zip City
[purchase Southern Rock Opera]

There is one member of my family who would be disappointed if I had the chance to write about songs that begin with the letter Z and didn’t write about “Zip City,” maybe my son's and my favorite Drive-By Truckers song not written by Jason Isbell.

In the early days of the Truckers, Patterson Hood dominated the songwriting, but Mike Cooley’s smaller output was often more memorable. I once saw a quote from Hood somewhere in which he essentially said that he wrote tons of songs, not all of which were great, and that Cooley wrote fewer songs, and they were all great. I can’t find the damn quote, but I know I saw it. And if you look at the commentary that Hood writes about all of the band’s albums, he invariably refers to a Cooley song as his favorite on the album. Sure, there is a bit of modesty there, but I honestly believe that Hood is sincere.

The new English Oceans, released today, has 13 songs, 7 by Hood and 6 by Cooley—but for the first time, Cooley sings a song written by Hood. Stuff like this is just manna for fans. I could have streamed the new album, but I’m waiting for my CD to arrive (hopefully in today's mail) before listening to it. I’ve liked what I have heard, so far.

But back to “Zip City,” from the Truckers’ breakthrough album, Southern Rock Opera. This was the album where a band that wrote songs like “The President’s Penis is Missing,” matured into one of the great American rock bands. Using a slightly fictionalized version of the Lynyrd Skynyrd story as a jumping off point to discuss perceived misconceptions of the South, modern southern mythology and the power of rock ‘n’ roll, it is an album that grows on me every time I listen to it.

“Zip City” is probably the Cooley song that fans most want to hear, and I think the band plays it at most every show (the version I posted is from a 2010 show at Webster Hall in New York that I was lucky enough to attend). And it is great live. Despite that, being somewhat of a contrarian (polite for “smartass”), the song is omitted from Cooley’s live solo album, The Fool on Every Corner,” which was released in late 2012. And it wasn’t like he didn’t play “Zip City” during the live performances that were used to create the album. Here’s proof. He just chose to leave it off.

What makes “Zip City” such a great song? Start with the story—although at the base, it is a classic tale of teenage lust, there is a twist. The seventeen year old narrator displays incredible maturity—he knows that he is never going to marry the girl, and he resignedly tells her to keep her drawers on, because it just isn’t worth the fight. And add to that the overlay of the narrator’s recognition of the hypocrisy of his girlfriend’s father, a church deacon, and the subtle references to the aimlessness and boredom of the narrator’s life. But then there are the lyrics, which are typically brilliant. For example, after telling his girlfriend that she should keep her drawers on, the singer predicts the dead end life his girlfriend faces:

By the time you drop them I'll be gone 
And you'll be right where they fall the rest of your life. 

The bleakness doesn’t stop there—Cooley describes her family like this:

Your Daddy is a deacon down at the Salem Church of Christ 
And he makes good money as long as Reynolds Wrap keeps everything wrapped up tight 
Your Mama's as good a wife and Mama as she can be 
And your sister's puttin' that sweet stuff on everybody in town but me 
Your brother was the first-born, got ten fingers and ten toes 
And it's a damn good thing cause he needs all twenty to keep the closet door closed 

I particularly like his description of the closeted brother.

There’s more, but better you should listen to the song, which, according to Hood is “90% true and is my personal favorite song on the album.”

And, if you want to learn more about the actual locations in the song, and see pictures, check out this blog.