Pat Todd and The Rankoutsiders
Holdin' Onto Trouble's Hand
By Dimitri
(SugarBuzz USA)
SugarBuzz Magazine
If I'm gonna be honest here, I dunno how much appeal these twenty rough songs about dead friends, divorcees, drunkards, and leathery middle agers, whose dreams all burned like silk, are gonna have among the uninitiated, or younger kids-who've yet to see the consequences of life lived fast, on the edge, in torn and frayed, lizard-skin cowboy boots.
Lazy Cowgirls enthusiasts will be handsomely rewarded with twenty new tales of heartache and hang-ups, by one of the real rock 'n' roll underground's finest purveyors of raunchy, juke-joint, country-honk with heart and soul. "Tonight I Said Your Name" is every bit as good as most any top-shelf, Jason And The Scorchers torch-song. Fans of Bryan Small, and the junk-sick blues of the Hangmen, would surely dig "One More Tank Of Gas", or "Playin' In The Dirt". "Disappearing Act", my personal fave of this new batch, probably, and "Secret Heart" are both kinda reminiscent of Brother Wayne Kramer, from the MC5's, more mature solo stuff, like "Wild America", or "Junkie Romance".
"There's Nothing For Me Here" is as chilling as George Jones, or Kris Kristofferson, at their sad, and seediest. The kinda country song that none of them pudgy Goo Goo Doll haircut, middle-aged, commercial country boy bands of today could ever come close to. 'Even with all their crass, corporate boardroom capital, and staffs of stylists, and formulaic, for-hire song-doctors.
Pat Todd's a really great lyricist, because even when he relies on traditional, tried and true, imagery-there's always an unexpected twist, something confessed, or recalled, that makes it personal, and therefore, touching, and humane.
As a vocalist, Todd's the very antithesis of the Disney-coached golden-throats that most people nowadays have been trained by their TV's to listen for. He's no multi-octave gymnast, but I much prefer his mangy, lived-in, cigarette wrecked, raspy wail of sincerity, that reaches for truth, to all those vibrato-flexing, American Idol, schmaltzy careerists, and show-biz kids. But that's just me-I'm old fashioned...
Having barely survived two brutal decades of bohomelessness, boozin', broke-up bands, betrayals, death, divorce, and the ever-receding rock dream, it's natural, I suppose, that I can so easily identify with Pat Todd's bruised song-writing, because it's all from the lonesome perspective of experience. To me, our peers who continue to chase youth culture fads, who "front", as if, they're still teenagers, are just kind of embarrassing. Take DJ Johnny Colt-Please!
I've been routinely chastised by my former musical collaborators, who sadly, yearned to stay even vicariously-associated with the perverse worship of youth in our consumer-culture, for refusing to mimic emo trends, or bad Fergie-rap radio cheese. That's not my life-I'm no heiress. I'm not a pimp. I wasn't a Mouskateer. There's gotta be singers like Pat Todd around, who can communicate the emotions of those of us whose obedient formulas, DIDN'T land us in reality-show heaven, with a generic line of skateboard clothing, and plastic surgery bimbos, on the beach.
"Dangerous Times Ahead" seems particularly spooky, on a day like today, when our oil-drunk politicians are beating the drums for pre-emptive war, again---this time, with Iran. Listening to all of this dusty, ghost-town, salloon punk is a different experience, in sobriety. I can only imagine how good this stuff sounds, cranked at a high-volume, with a case of Pabst. His classic, "Somewhere Down The Line", is an essential accessory to any cross-country road-trip that involves a happy reunion, or bittersweet farewell.
Jeff Dahl first hipped me to the Lazy Cowgirls, back in 1989, or '90, but it took me awhile to fully gather what a gift this man's music so often is. Much of his work is uptempo sleaze-punk, but with this heartbreaking subtext, underneath. At first listen, the Rank Outsiders might merely remind you of the Pontiac Brothers, or Georgia Sattelites, but repeated exposure unearths a lot of substance and depth. "Wrong Turn" evokes Elvis in his corny, cinematic, spaghetti-western mode, but much could be read-in to lyrics, such as these. "When The World And You Collide", and "Theda" both remind me of those I've loved, and lost, in recent years. It's the heart that Pat Todd invests in his work that makes him so special.
This AIN'T all paid-for, cheerful, upbeat, plastic bubble-gum. This IS real rock 'n' roll. If you like Steve Earle, or Rock City Angels, or scrounge through the pockets of old leather jackets, looking for loose change, to buy cheap malt liquor, to help deaden the pain, or block-out the memories, then the, Rank Outsiders oughta be right up in your Smash Alley. If you're pushin' forty and you still haven't given up being in a band... If you've been lookin' for justice, or something to hold-on to, or something that rings true, in this cold nation, and keep coming up empty. If you have zero interest in video-games, hipster-gadgets, emo, techno, or Nu Metal, and you're willing to admit it, this might be your band.
