Button beanies have shown up in comics (Jughead in the Archie comics is the main person that I think of), in movies (young punks in Jimmy Cagney movies and Jeff Goldblum as a young freak in “Death Wish”), and in art and illustration from the mid 20th century. I guess that I have to mention Goober from the Andy Griffith show, even though he wasn’t really a cool guy – at least he was the town mechanic. Ha Ha.

Anyway, to me, it’s a cool, retro, “wise-guy” look – if you’re brave enough to sport one. You can get yours’ in the merch section with a RHH patch lovingly sewn on.

Here’s some examples I found on the internet. The Kid with the hot dog is cool. I know that’s James Cagney on the right, but I’m not sure who the cool and dirty delinquent is.

Jughead, and ad for pre-made button beanies, and me, still a kid and wanna-be delinquent.

The old photo below is some kind of factory worker from the 1930’s or 40’s. They were also called “Whoopee Caps”.

Here’s “Joe Delinquent”….pretty cool.

Here’s one I bought off of ebay. It’s from the 1930’s. I love this thing.

He’s telling the cops what to do. Ha Ha.

Here’s Jeff Goldblum in “Death Wish” as “Freak number two”.

Recently, I was at the gym and a guy asked me, “What cover songs does your band play?” I told him that since we play just about all original music, we really don’t play many cover songs. I was shocked when he was not at all impressed that Reverend Horton Heat plays original music – he was actually disappointed. Then, he went into some expert explanation of how important it was that Jerry Garcia cut his teeth playing cover songs. Puuuuleeaase!

I know, I know, I shouldn’t even be bothered about this one opinion. But it kind of made me wonder if there are more people with this same wrong-headed way of thinking out there.

So, just in case there are people out there who think that playing cover songs is harder than writing and playing your own, I’ve got this rant for them.

First off, we have the Beatles and Stones to thank for the major paradigm shift in the music business that caused record companies and the public to truly appreciate bands that wrote their own songs. Sure, there were great artists writing their own music forever, but it wasn’t until the Beatles that the record companies really got pulled away from trying to pin a “hit song” on an artist instead of finding and accepting a song that the artist had written themselves. Sure, the Beatles did release a lot of cover songs, especially at the beginning of their recording career, but they seemed to really hit big with the songs they wrote themselves. And we’re lucky they wrote great songs or things may have never changed. It was the same thing with the Stones and others who popped up in the mid-sixties. From then on, managers and record companies were more concerned with new bands being able to write and play their own songs. The only problem was that it was almost impossible for new bands to do this because the crowds at clubs and dances still demanded that the local bands play songs that were familiar – hits of the day or songs that people knew and loved.

Things were pretty much like that all the way up until I started playing in bands. The first bands that I played in, worked the high school dances, ballrooms, clubs and frat parties. You could not get gigs in those places playing original songs. And, you had to be good at covering the songs you chose to play. I got pretty good at learning guitar parts note-for-note off of records. And some of the people in the bands that I played with were phenomenal at mimicking the hit singers and players of the day. So, there were some really good cover bands out there in those days, but we all knew that none of the record companies would have you unless you wrote your own songs. So, we wrote songs and tried to fit them in on the gigs. It never worked. It was an instant train-wreck on the dance floor (although we didn’t use the term train-wreck back in those days). It was super frustrating. Therefore, back then, bands that could get by playing mostly, if not all, of their own songs, could hold their head high as all of the other bands were sure that they were going to get a big record deal….Ha Ha. I can only think of two bands in all of Texas that played their own songs and got good gigs. The rest of us just dreamed of being in a band like that and kept cranking out the covers.

So, the fact that Reverend Horton Heat started out playing mainly original songs was a real milestone in my life. I thought that I may never do it, but I did. I wrote the songs that got me the gigs and made Reverend Horton Heat grow. Every musician in the world dreams of doing that, but most fail. I failed – in earlier bands. The sad thing too is that even if bands have some pretty great songs, they have to play cover songs to get the gigs, it’s a terrible Catch-22. But, I somehow managed to overcome that and I’m still proud of it. It did help that original music was a little more accepted in the alternative days of the late eighties.

But now, are we in a situation where people respect cover bands more than original bands? Maybe we are. Look at all of the tribute bands. Some are bands that pay “tribute” to bands that are still actively touring, so the “tribute” band tours and the “real” band tours. The band Sublime has a tribute band that plays

some pretty big venues I’m told. I’ve heard that some of the “tribute” bands are so big they play in the same venues as the real bands. This is really pathetic. I guess that there are a couple of tribute bands that I’ve enjoyed, but it’s still a little weird and somehow sad to watch. My favorite cover bands are bands that pick some really obscure cover songs and make them work. So, I don’t want to beat up my fellow musician cover band artists out there – I’ve been there too, but there is a point here that needs to be made.

It really gets my goat when one of my friends, someone I’ve met at the grocery store or someone anywhere says something to me like, “You would be really great if you could play ‘Free Bird’ by Lynyrd Skynrd.”

Here’s what should be my stock answer, “I used to play that song note-for-note and still could play that song or any song note-for-frickin-note if I had the time to sit down with the record player and learn it like I did when I was sixteen years old. Now I do something way harder, I write and play songs that sell CDs and concert tickets. And if you knew the years and years I spent playing cover songs, dreaming of making it with my own songs, you would realize just how stupid that remark you made is.” Of course, at least outwardly, I’m too modest to say that, so I just say, “Yeah…’Free Bird’.”

So that’s about it. I will leave you with a funny cover song story though.

I was in a band that played a wide variety of cover songs and became kind of like a ‘show band’. It was a band that was stuck in the cover song Catch-22 like all of the bands were in those days. I was just the guitar player in a group of some really great singers especially – but everyone could hold their own. Anyway, we were learning the song ‘Tie Your Mother Down’ by Queen. Someone brought their album and we had it on the turntable in lead singer’s garage. There’s a long part in the middle of that song that gets a little weird. We went over it several times and finally figured it out – or thought we had. We played the song live in many clubs for about a year when one of us brought a different copy of the album to practice and we figured out that the album we learned the song off of had a skip in that weird middle section. So, we were playing the skip! There was about four

seconds of the song that we didn’t even know was there, so we didn’t play it! Instead of re-learning that section of the song, ‘Tie Your Mother Down’ had about run its course so we just dropped it, but playing it like the album that had the skip actually shortened it up a bit and made it a little more palatable for the dancing crowd.

After watching one of those awful episodes of the TV show ‘Hoarders’, I was cleaning out a bunch of stuff when I came across a few boxes of our 1999 vinyl single ‘King’ backed with ‘The Girl in Blue’. So Jimbo came over and we autographed a bunch of them and are selling them on reverendhortonheat.com. We listened to one of them and it sounded pretty good and really ‘authentic’. Go to the ‘merch’ tab on the website and check ‘em out.

Until next time, stay as safe as hot rodders can be. Thanks for the gig.

I’m really busy getting ready to go to Europe. However, I had to let ya’ll know that we raised approximately $388.00 for Nothing But Nets on this last run. Some nice person folded a twenty with a five-er and put it in the jug. Cool. Vancouver donated over $100 Canadian dollars, but, I didn’t get the chance to change it yet. We’ll put that into the next run for Nothing But Nets or just send it in once I get that changed.

Thanks again so much for your generosity. For more info, go to nothingbutnets.net.

As Ernest Tubb would say, Thanks, Thanks A Lot,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath

I’m very pleased that on our last tour, we were able to raise $966.42 for Nothing But Nets. I was especially pleased with the generosity of the Canadian fans, but all of our wonderful fans did a great job of giving. Way cool. Malaria is a major problem on our Earth and raising awareness about the need is almost as important as raising the money for the bed netting. So, tell your friends. Tell your family. And remember yourself to visit nothingbutnets.net.

We’re out on a really great tour right now with old buddies The Supersuckers and Nashville Pussy. It’s great seeing them all and especially Scott Churilla who now plays with The Supersuckers. So come on out and support Rock and Roll as well as one of the best current causes – Nothing But Nets. $10 buys a simple mosquito repellent bed net that will save the life of one or more people.

Don’t forget to ROCK.

As Ernest Tubb would say, Thanks, Thanks A Lot,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath

We’ve been taking donations for “Nothing But Nets” at our live shows and the response has been great. Nothing But Nets buys mosquito nets and ships them to Africa where at least three million children a year die of malaria. Each ten dollar net can save the life of a child or anyone who sleeps under the net. Mosquitos bearing malaria usually just bite their victims at night while they’re sleeping. Nothing But Nets is a project jointly worked by the UN, the NBA, The United Methodist Church, Sports Illustrated, VH1 and a score of other major corporations. If you want to learn more, please visit nothingbutnets.net.

At the end of this tour, I’ll make a post about how much we’ve collected and donated. I hope to keep raising money for this cause with every tour as well as other ways too.

As Ernest Tubb would say, Thanks, Thanks A Lot,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath

This week’s little rant is about how the modern PA system (public address system) has changed the way drummers play.

Back in Louis Belson’s day, drummers had to have sonic responsibility. In other words, they had to control how much volume they were putting out at all times. PA systems weren’t nearly as powerful as they are today. Back then, drummers were often fired for playing too loudly. With one weak microphone, the singers still had to be heard. So, if the drummer played over the singer or soloing instruments, they could really make the band leader mad. But, bandleaders didn’t fret too much about the issue. They just fired the guy and gave the charts (back then, most bands had charts) to the new drummer who would be worked into the band the day after the previous drummer was axed. Tough luck, huh! So, putting mics on drums was out of the question. Public address systems were invented for the voice, not the drums – drums were loud enough already!

Now, fortunately (or un-fortunately in my humble opinion), we have huge PA systems that have so much power, there’s not only ample power for the singer’s microphone, but, they even put microphones on the drums! So nowadays, drummers don’t really “mix” themselves – the sound man does. Each drum and cymbal has it’s own microphone. The sound man turns up the kick drum microphone really loud. The kick drum is the lowest volume of all of the drum set. The sound man turns up the tom-toms. Tom-toms are not as loud as the snare drum which is the loudest of the drums. Anyway, the sound man gets the drums and cymbals balanced, so that, when the drummer hits the kick at full-tilt, it is roughly the same volume (loudness) as the snare and all of the other drums.

Then, the sound man, “mixes” in the rest of the band until he thinks that there’s a good balance (usually the drums are still the loudest in my humble opinion). Anyway, with this being the situation, the drummer can hit the snare drum really loudly on every back-beat without the worry of some old-timey band-leader firing him.

Here’s one problem. After decades of the mega-PA, drummers have lost all sonic responsibility. Louis Belson, as well as all of the great drummers from the swing and early rock and roll era had great sonic responsibility. They couldn’t just whack the snare drum as loud as they wanted on every back-beat because you wouldn’t hear the down-beat on the kick drum (the kick drum being naturally lower in volume than the snare). They couldn’t just smash all of the cymbals all at once because it would drown out all of their own drums (except for maybe a loud snare drum). They couldn’t just bash and smash all or the time because you wouldn’t hear the singers and soloists. Now, just about all drummers, save a very few, smash and bash the drums all they want because they know that the sound man will balance their drum set as well as the whole band. This, however, leads to some other problems as well.

Another problem is that on stage, behind the PA, drummers over-take the band. Whenever I set up a recorder with microphones aimed at the stage only, it’s all drums. They’re about twice as loud as even those loud-ass guitar amps! When drummers hear the recording, they all say, “Recordings just make the drums sound louder than they really are.” Wrong again, little drummer boy.

The main problem, in my opinion, is not just the volume issue. It’s the artistic issue. It’s something called dynamics. Louis Belson, Gene Krupa and the great swing drummers (some rock and country guys too), really milked their snare drum for all it was worth. When the singer was singing, or when the trombone solo was going, they would sometimes barely touch the snare drum on each back-beat. Guess what, without microphones on each drum, they had to artfully mix themselves. You could hear the down-beat of the kick drum. You could hear the shimmer of the ride-cymbal. The snare drum might have several different volumes in the same measure. Same with the kick. There was room to breathe. Then, when they really wanted to add some zip, “Whap!” Babies cried, women were startled, and grown men blinked when Louis Belson hit a dramatically loud snare drum note. Then, suddenly, he’s back swinging – using all of the sounds and volumes of the snare as well as all of the drums and cymbals.

By the way, when, all of the sudden, Louis, or any of those guys, hits a loud kick-drum note, it’s called “dropping a bomb.”

Anyhow, here’s what’s happening today. Now, it’s all boom, whap, boom, whap, boom, whap. As loud as they can play it. Every drummer. All of the time. And, the crowd gets used to the boom-whap that the sound man has so graciously “mixed” louder than even the singer. The boom-whap is so loud, and so “all of the time” that the crowd is now de-sensitized to the loudness of the drums. Babies don’t cry, women aren’t startled and grown-men don’t have to feel the embarrassment of blinking and wincing. The drummer is dropping bombs on every single down-beat. The drummer is using all of his volume on every back-beat. If he wants to play a loud accent on the kick or snare, he can’t – there’s no where else to go but lower.

This is not just a drummer problem. Sound men of today almost always demand that every snare hit on every back-beat is the same volume. They even have limiters and compressors to help them do the job. This way, sound men don’t lose a single note of their precious “drum sound”. Even if you can’t understand the lyrics and the chainsaw guitars are reduced to background humming.

You could say, “It’s just a different style of drumming.”

I would say, “It’s not as good a style of drumming as Louis Belson.” Not as artful, not as musical and kind of dumb.

Please…sound men of today. Let’s lose some of the drums so we can hear the singers and other instruments (besides the bass – you guys are turning that up too much as well).

We all know where the back beat is. You drummers don’t have to hit them so loudly. Save that loud WHAP!! for the one note that needs to make the babies cry and sound men blink.

Thanks,
Jim “Reverend Horton ” Heath

Jim “Reverend Horton” Heat here. I know that last weeks post was really sour grapes. Sorry. After reading some of the positive things about “My Secret and Possible Free Way to Meet and Pick-up Chicks – Hopefully”, it made me realize that these posts may be more enjoyable to read if I avoided the sour grapes articles altogether. Maybe I should not write the stuff where I pour out my true feelings about a topic or situation, and instead, focus on the funny stuff. However, that would be kind of out-of-whack with the way real life is. Therefore, I guess that I’m apologizing in advance for not trying to be funny all of the time, but, hey, that’s not me. And, as I’ve discussed before, the rants can work pretty well too.

This week’s rant is about how sound men are ruining rock-and-roll (and “live” music in general).

Sound men have taken the chain-saw guitars out of rock-and-roll. But, why?

Answer: The drums. Well, the bass too.

They love to talk about, brag about, and “get” a great drum sound. They all feel that their whole reputation in the sound business is based on that great drum sound that they “get”.

Now, every show that I go to, the sound men (or, ladies too in all fairness) have the drums up so loud that, the chain-saw guitars that should sound like a fast ch-ch-ch-ch-rip-ch-ch-ch, instead sound like a droning mmmmmmm in the background. I watch closely as the guitarist plays powers chords using fast up and down picking and it just sounds like a distant hum. It’s lost in a sea of “are you enjoying what a great drum sound I’m getting?”

By the way, sound persons don’t “get” a drum sound. Drummers “get” a drum sound. I can hear the sound man constantly moving faders. When the guitar solo comes in, the sound man (let’s just say “man” for our purposes here) has to turn up the guitar because if he didn’t, you wouldn’t hear the lead solo at all. However, once he turns up the guitar for the solo. a lot of nuance is still no where near being clear audio.

This is very frustrating for me, being a guitar player. I can’t hear the notes! I can barely make out what he’s playing, but, still, it’s in the background.

Sound men are sometimes like the guy who just put that new sound system in his car. They have to show it off. They have to show the dynamic range by having the kick drum and bass so loud that it completely drowns out the musicians that are playing the so-called “leading” roles.

Not to mention the lead vocal. I often wonder that, if these lead singers knew just how un-intelligible their lyrics were, they would trash way more dressing rooms than they normally trash. I’m mean come on! I think that one reason rock-and-roll died out while country music got stronger is that in rock-and-roll, the lead singer might as well not even be there. In country, the lyrics are understandable. In rock-and-roll, lyrics are thrown out the window in favor of the drums.

OK. I know what some of those sound men are thinking out there. They’re saying to themselves, “Those pounding drums are what rock-and-roll is all about!” Wrong. Let me prove it. Louie Belson was a great drummer. Not rock-and-roll, but a great drummer. He “pounded” the drums. What I think sound men are doing today is making Louie Belson so loud that you can’t hear Jimi Hendrix.

Here’s how they do their afternoon sound check. They start with the most important thing to them. Right – the drums! “Kick drum please.” Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom…you get the picture. Then, they just say, “Snare.” Pop,pop,pop…again, you get the picture. Then it’s the tom-tom’s. Then it’s the cymbals. They all spend by far the most time “tweaking” these things and feeling “professional”.

Then they move to the bass. Then they move to the guitar. Then finally, as if it were an after-thought, they listen to the lead-vocal microphone. By this time, there is really no room in the PA for vocals or guitar.

So…the most important microphone on the stage, the lead vocal mic, gets by far the least amount of time and attention. And, it’s the last to be considered. While the loudest instrument on stage, the drum set, gets turned up even louder!

The public address audio system was invented for the voice. It was necessary in music so you could hear the singer over the drums. Now they’re mis-using it to drown out the vocals all over again. Come on!

Here’s what I’d like sound men to try. Get your drums sound checked first (if you must), then get the bass, guitars, keys and so on. Get the vocals last if you just can’t break with decorum (personally, I think it’s stupid to try to listen to drum mics if the lead vocal mic isn’t already on and turned up to it’s usable volume, but, hey, I’m just a musician). Then, to see just how right I am, get the band to start playing. Once they’re going, turn the drums all the way down. That’s right buddy, out of the mix completely. Then, just listen and watch for a minute. My bet is that in many, many situations you’ll still be able to hear the drums pretty well! You may need to add a little kick drum. But, if you can still hear the drums, they’re probably more audible than the guitar was the way you had it before. And let’s face it, the lead singer and the soloists are the stars of the show – not “your” drum sound.

Slowly bring the drums into the audible range. Remember, it’s the vocal and guitar that should be crankin’.

Now, do the same with the bass. While the whole band is playing, take it out of the mix. Then slowly bring it back to an audible level.

What I tell the sound men who work with me is that their main drum mic is….my lead-vocal mic. You would be surprised at how much drums (cymbals especially) are picked up by the lead-vocal microphone. I know that a lot of sound men think they have a technical solution for this problem. Noise gates, compressor/limiters and stuff like that have their place I guess, but they are no solution. A noise gate on a lead vocal mic means that if the singer backs way off of the mic and let’s out some little yells and “oh yeah’s” and stuff, those things will be “gated”, or, un-hearable. I think it’s those little things are what give a performance soul and excitement.

I really still want the whole band to be nice and loud, but not mixed so the main players are completely covered up. Keep those chain-saws buzzing and enjoy the lyrics. Your drums and bass will still be there and be audible.

Next time you go to hear a band play, listen to see what I mean and tell the sound man about this article. I’m guessing that while you’ll be able to hear every little tap on the drums, you won’t be able the understand the lyrics and the guitar will be a distant, droning mmmmmmmm. All of this is another reason that going to see bands play is hard for me now. If I ever hear a band whose sound man doesn’t do this, I’ll let you know. So far, it’s been years since that happened, so, don’t hold your breath.

Next week, I’m going to talk about how close microphones on all of the drums have changed the way the drums are played. Some drummers are not going to be so happy with me, but, some will love me for saying all of this. Drummers do actually like loud chain-saw guitars and lyrics too!

Thanks,
Jim “Reverend Horton ” Heath

P.S. We’re on tour with Junior Brown right now. He used to not let his drummers use anything but a snare and two brushes (no sticks). I heard that when a drummer of his set up a kick drum one day, Junior walked in for sound check, saw the kick drum, picked it up, carried it out the back door and rolled it down the alley. If that’s true, that’s pretty cool. Drummers please don’t hate me.

It’s me again. The Reverend Horton Heat. I love what I do, but it has it’s downsides. I used to love going out. When I was single, I went out almost every night of the week. It was a lot of fun. I remember walking into my favorite bars and everyone saying, “Hey Rev!” I would say back, “How’s it going?” The fun would start. Lots of laughs. Cute girls, funny guys and maybe a game of pool or thirty. Even after I wasn’t single, me and my wonderful girlfriend (who is now my wife) used to get in on some of the coolest events as well as just hanging out with a few friends and having some drinks.

Reverend Horton Heat was popular in a regional sort of way. We did very well in ticket sales nationally, but, we were still the underdogs. Everyone seemed interested in where we were touring and I was interested in their lives as well. What a time! What stories!

Then, slowly, as time went on, though the cool, nice and funny people were still there, creeping into the picture came the meanness. People who, for reasons I’ll speculate on later in this article, feel like they have to say something mean to me.

You know, if these people had always been there, I’d would probably be used to it. However, I remember all of those great years that people didn’t say mean stuff to me, so it’s something very noticeable now.

Don’t get me wrong. People who know me know that I’m not the type of person who has to have people fawn over me and tell me what a rock star I am. Just the opposite. I’m the working guy who managed to do this music thing. I’m proud of it, but, it’s embarrassing to me to have people kissing my ass. I just want be there with my friends and watch great bands. Sure, it’s nice that someone cares about Reverend Horton Heat – RHH is what I do. And it’s nice to go into a place where they take care of my girl and I. I appreciate all of that. But, beyond that, I want to be a regular nice guy.

However, whenever I go out now, without fail, someone has to start in with me. Insults. I could elaborate on some of the insults that I get when I go out, but honestly, I try to forget them. I can let those insults “roll off of my back”, but, sometimes, I just have to say something back. Sometimes, it verges on a fist-to-cuffs.

Fighting is not for me. I learned long ago that a simple bar room brawl can end my career. A career that not only feeds my family, but is the very make-up of my soul.

I live to play guitar. One little broken finger and that’s it for my art, my family and my responsibility to the careers of the people that have so selflessly worked with me.

The idiots who try to get me to fight don’t have nearly all of those wonderful things as well as responsibilities. They’re just little twits who are so poor emotionally, so child like in their irresponsibility, and so meaningless to the world in general that getting Reverend Horton Heat to fight them could be the best thing that ever happens to them. They can take the little pussy approach and sue me if they get their ass kicked, or, strut around the bar like a champion if they kick mine – though everyone will think they’re an even bigger idiot.

The mental midgets that try to start fights with me think they’re tough guys, but there is always someone else who can whip them. Maybe not me, but, my point is this – all tough guys are losers. There’s not one of them who can kick anybody’s ass. There’s always someone tougher. Why should I risk anything on those pussy losers. By the way, if you actually can kick anyone’s ass, but you ignore your responsibility to society, or ignore your family and/or your children, you are the biggest pussy of all and not a real man.

Anyway, if I take the fighting thing out of the picture, it just leaves the insults. I would glorify some of the idiotic statements that people have made to me, but…OK… here goes.

Once, after a show where the indoor temperature was over 100 degrees at least, I was drenched in sweat. I walked out of the back of the venue where there were two fats girls standing. (I wouldn’t have mentioned the fat part except for what they said).

They seemed nice enough at first, saying that they enjoyed the show. But, they got a little testy when I started saying that, since I was drenched in sweat that I wanted to go to the bus and get dry. They started to change. They started to get mean. The fattest one said, “Why do you sweat so much, you’re really not doing much of anything!” See what I’m saying? I was just trying to be nice and grateful or I wouldn’t have stopped at all. I was still nice enough not to say something back like, “It’s obvious by how fat you are that you have a lot of experience doing not much of anything except feeding your fat face.” But, as politely as I could, I let it slide and headed for the bus.

This is a very, very mild example. A lot of people are pretending to say something nice to me because they want something. They want their band to open up for us. They want to give us their CD. Or, literally anything. They want to sell us insurance. They want us to come to where they work so they can show us off like show and tell day at school.

They want to “just” hang out – meaning that they want something more than hanging out, but since they’re afraid that I may guess they want something, they clarify that they “just” want to hang out with me. The truth is they want to hang out with me and tell me about their brother’s band – or get me to do something for them.

I don’t mind all of that. It’s just that when I can’t hang out, a lot of people turn on a dime and get really mean.

It happens when we just go out for a night of fun too. But why? Really, really why?

I think it’s jealousy. I know that may sound pompous of me, but, I remember what it was like before the jealousy. When Rev. Horton Heat was popular but still the underdogs, this wasn’t happening as often and back then I was going out way more (all the time).

Then, as time went on, I noticed that just about every time I went out, someone started with the insults. Then, I noticed that, in between the good old nice people that I remembered, I was getting more and more into conversations that were geared toward insulting me.

Stuff like, “Well, I’ve never been a fan of yours!” Like I care. If your not a fan, fine. If I am a fan of somebody, I’ll tell them maybe, but, if I am not a fan of someone, I realize that telling them so is an insult.

So, what bothers me is not that you’re not a fan, it’s that for some reason (probably since I’m more famous now and have more fans) you feel the need to not treat me like a normal human being. To knock me off of my pedestal. (By the way, I don’t put myself on a pedestal, you shouldn’t either.)

Would you tell your mother that she’s looking way older now? Would you tell the bartender that the way he makes Martini’s isn’t near as good as the guy at blah-blah-blah? No. Why? Because it’s normal human decorum to not say anything at all. Just don’t buy his Martini’s. Or, just please tell your mother she’s still pretty.

The real reason for the insults is jealousy. Either they’re jealous because they’re trying to pretend that their local band of Rev. Horton Heat influenced wannabes are actually rock stars or they themselves are this, that, or the other.

Also, FYI, to us musicians (not just me), you really put yourself in an un-flattering light if your going to play music critic. Did you know that for the first almost decade of this band, every interview that I did with a music critic/writer (so-called experts) started off with the writer asking me, “So what is rockabilly?” Now they all feel they are in a position to tell me what rockabilly is. I’ve out-lasted a lot of those music critic/experts. What I’m getting at is that music critics are, for the large part, wannabes themselves. Trying to rise into their category is really like saying to me, “I’m pretending I’m not a complete idiot…which I am.”

All of this is why, as time went on, I had to limit going out more and more. I just didn’t enjoy getting insulted by wannabes and people picking fights with me. Ignoring these people or standing my ground just made matters worse. Like I said, I remember the good times, so, I can see the jealousy now.

I still go out, but, unfortunately, I enjoy it less now. The insults and the constant battle to avoid fights is the main reason, but I’ve got some other reasons that will be for another article. Those reasons are more about how sound men have ruined rock-and-roll.

I also want to clarify that, on very rare occasions, I’ll go out to see a band or out to dinner or drinks and the people just treat me like I’m a regular guy who deserves the normal considerations that they would give to any human being. I’m flattered if your a fan, but, be nice even if you’re not. Treat me like any human being and you may find out what a sincere person a sometimes sarcastic, crazy guy likes me can actually be. Even if you’re not a Rev. Horton Heat fan.

By the way, on gigs, after the show, I’ve discovered that instead of “just hanging out” with a few people, it’s better to play a long show for all of the people.

Thanks,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath

Hope your new year is going well. This article is about something that is mainly of interest to you cats. However, you kittens may enjoy getting an inside view of the twisted male mind.

Ok. I’ve stumbled on the perfect way for you cool cats to successfully pick up chicks. It’s not a line you give some poor girl at the bar. It’s got nothing to do with flashy cars or big money. It’s not something that happens at the gym, singles bar, or on-line. The best spot to meet the ladies? The grocery store between the hours of 4:30 and 6:30. But, you can’t just go hang out like a numb-nuts. I’ve got the secret.

Walk in the grocery store, grab the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you can find and just go walking around with them.

You’ll be amazed at how all the females will suddenly stop ignoring you like the creepy guy you really are. Suddenly, like magic, female heads will start turning. Then, just pretend to shop.

Linger over the wine section even though you really just want a twelve pack of Bud Light. Pick up various cheeses with one hand and hold the flowers proudly with the other. You may want to spend a little time looking at greeting cards. Whatever you do, don’t actually buy anything unless it’s something like wine or cheese or something else kind of romantic that you can think of. Picking up that can of jock-itch treatment and the new Maxim are no-nos. Well, we’re not really at the buying stage of the article yet so, just don’t buy anything.

As you walk around, you’ll notice women young and old will suddenly start to notice you. I’m not sure exactly what they may be thinking, but it may be something like, “Ah, he’s got flowers!” Or, “I wish my jerk boyfriend bought me flowers every once in a while!”

When you’re holding flowers, it’s really not very difficult to strike up a conversation with any female, so take your pick.

Here’s where it’s up to you, Buddy. I can’t tell you what to say, but I will say that it’s almost meaningless. If you do this enough, you’ll soon learn that talking about yourself will not go nearly as far as getting her to talk about herself. Listen to her opinion. Nod your head in agreement even when she starts saying we should all be forced to drive hy-brid cars. In the chat-her-up department, you’re on your own here. My best advice is to just learn from trial-and-error.

What if she asks you who the flowers are for? Well, now you’re in the cat-birds seat. Tell her that you are visiting a sick aunt and then ask her if she thinks your aunt will like the flowers (once again, you’re getting her opinion). When she asks what is wrong with your aunt, kind of chuckle and say this, “Well, my cousin wasn’t too specific, I think it’s some women’s issue.” All of this shows that – A: You’re not getting the flowers for a love interest, B: You’re interested in her opinion, and C: You’re sympathetic towards women’s issues.

Bingo!

Now, ask her if she may want to meet you for coffee or a drink. Or, get her number. Politely say good-buy and nice to meet you. Then keep shopping (if you know what I mean here). If you really think it’s a score with that chick you may be forced to head for the check-out line where you’ll probably have to fork over the $7.99 for the flowers – you know, just for appearances. Or, if you’re lucky, she’ll smile at you as she heads for the check-out line.

It’s best if she leaves before you do because you have more options this way. If she leaves, wait until she’s really gone (as in – watch her drive away without looking creepy). Then you have options. You can keep shopping (you know what I mean), or you can always just put the flowers back as your facial expression shows everyone that, “I guess I don’t want these after all.”

If she continues to shop for a while, don’t linger around the grocery store too long unless you happen to get really lucky and an even hotter chick starts noticing the flowers. If you stay too long after talking to her, she may start to see the jerk/scammer that you really are. Or maybe worse, she may start to think that it would be more thoughtful of you to get going because she’s wondering, “Doesn’t he care that those flowers are going to need water pretty soon!” Who knows what women think, just don’t linger.

Also, be careful. Flowers attract all females so it’s kind of easy to waste time getting bogged down talking to someone’s Granny. In this case, do not use the “sick aunt with women’s issues” line. That will only lead to more wasted time. Tell the Granny that they’re for your girlfriend or wife and move on.

You can “shop” from 4:30 to 6:30. It may work after that too, but be careful not to over-stay your welcome or you risk being thrown out of all places – a grocery store. That’s why it’s a good idea to case out a lot of the grocery stores in your area. You may find that some have hotter chicks than other ones. And, you run less risk of the over-stay if the clerks and store managers haven’t seen you pull the “flowers for my sick aunt” scam before.

You can do all of this for free if you are able to put the flowers back and leave apologetically. If you’re forced to actually buy flowers, you can take them home to freshen-up that hell-hole apartment of yours, give them to the bum laying in the parking lot if you don’t want flowers smelling up your hot-rod, or, just throw them in the trash on your way out.

Also, this too, if you end up with a girlfriend that you met while doing this, the relationship won’t last unless you periodically throw down the cash to actually buy her flowers for real. You may also want to consider how pricey the “enticement” flowers are at the start of this scam, because, once she’s your girlfriend, she may be disappointed with cheaper flowers. On second thought, who cares? And, if your new girlfriend ever asks about your “sick aunt”…well, once again…you’re on your own.

Good luck man.

Thanks,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath

I think that the gift of the year, at least for little girls, has got to be something called “Butterscotch”. It’s an interactive horse (pony/whatever) that, by my standards for what a toy should be is huge – 3 feet by 4 feet. And, oh yeah, it lists for $299.00. At that price, they’ve still sold out of them everywhere. We saw them on Amazon for $700.00. I think this is a real problem with Christmas/Hanukkah. These crazy parent people will spend three hundred dollars for something that’s less than 12 months away from being junk in the garage, then, other even crazier parent people, in a fit of envy, will spend seven hundred dollars for this thing that will get played with for a while on Christmas morning until the box that it came in becomes more popular than “Butterscotch” herself. Just buy the box and call it a “fort”. The Santa at the mall (currently the only sane adult on the planet) told my little one that Butterscotch wouldn’t fit in his sleigh. I love Santa Claus.

Once again, I’m asking everyone to get added as a friend on the Nascar Craftsman Truck Series racing team that I sponsor. Go to www.myspace.com/jeffmilburnracing Adding myspace friends for Jeff will help him to get “real” sponsors. (See, I’m not “real”, I’m “surreal”.) Anyway, you get the picture. Hot rod culture guys (us), with not much money, running with the big boys (Nascar millionaires). Jeff is building another two cars so he’ll have the chance to run in consecutive races. His skills in this Nascar thing are improving every day so I’m sure the new cars will be better and better.

Next week (hopefully), I’ll have a new rant for all you hot gals and cool guys. It will either be about why I don’t go out much anymore, or, why buying flowers in the grocery store can help guys meet chicks. Exciting stuff, huh?

Oh yeah, Rev. Organdrum plays the Cavern Club on Thursday Dec. 14. Rev. Horton Heat plays the Gypsy Tea Room on Saturday Dec. 23. The December 23 gig will feature some Christmas songs. Get out there and get that shopping done before it’s too late and the guilt sets in.

Thanks,
Jim “Reverend Horton” Heath