Rockzillaworld -- web site mirror

How much can one fan of OKOM (Our Kind Of Music) accomplish in just a couple of years? Plenty, if it's Rockzilla, aka photographer Michael Johnson. From 2003 to 2005, rockzilla.net was a chronicle of the alt.country scene from a uniquely Texan perspective. But all good things must end, and Rockzilla has retired from the online 'zine scene.

This mirror site was copied from the rockzilla.net site with the express permission of Rockzilla hisself. If you don't believe me, go to the KHYI-Fans email list and ask him! Buddy will back me up, too.



 Music Reviews

 Concert Calendar

 Global Edition


 

Departments

Home
 
New Reviews
 
Review Archives
 
Quick Notes
 
Feature Articles
 
Americana Poetry Consortium
 
Mindless Thoughts
 
Rockzilla Rants
 
Concert Calendar
 
Contact Info
 
Staff
 
Artist Links
 
Sponsors
 
Buy Stuff
 
Site Search
 
Buddy Sikes' House Page
 
Photos
 
   
 

Lost John Casner
Don't Make Me Laugh (While I'm Drinkin')
Spectrum Records
By Jud Block

Every great once in awhile a CD from a previously unknown commodity will provide a kind of harmonic convergence of sound, performer, and background, where, as a reviewer, you like or admire all three simultaneously. Now, even though it sometimes seems like it would be easier to find an image of Jesus smiling than to experience this happy coalescence, when it does occur, it is damn near magical. From the little I know of the subject, the immediate feeling of comfort and familiarity on these rare instances must be somewhat similar to a previous life experience. That might be a little overboard on the hyperbole, but whatever the case, when I first listened to Lost John Casner's new disc, Don't Make Me Laugh (While I'm Drinkin'), even though I had never heard him I felt as though I'd been listening to him my whole life.

Lost John Casner. John Casner. Why did that name seem so familiar? Some of the first things I usually do with a new CD is check to see where it was recorded, who the artist thanks -- the logic behind this is if the artist acknowledges any musicians I already like, then, I figure, they're worth taking a chance on -- and to whom, if anyone, the disc is dedicated. Well, the disc was recorded in Texas (good start); I didn't recognize any of the names in the "Thanks" section, but when I got to the dedication everything fell into place for me. When I saw "Dedicated to Blaze Foley. . ." I was instanly sure of two things: one, this was going to be a good CD, and two, I knew why the name John Casner sounded familiar -- he was the man who recorded the vastly underappreciated classic Live at the Austin Outhouse by Texas' tragically under-acknowledged singer/songwriting genius Blaze Foley.

It didn't hurt at all that on the back of the disc was a quote by and a picture with Merle Haggard extolling the virtues of Mr. Casner's music, or that on the CD itself Johnny Gimble, ex-Texas Playboy and fiddler extraordinaire, plays his trademark fiddle and mandolin throughout the twelve tracks. And the song choices from people like Leon Payne, Blaze Foley, John Prine, George Jones, and Mel Tillis as well as four strong originals that easily blend in with the classic material make this one of those rare discs that seems made for the repeat button. This is classic Texas honky-tonk and western swing done by a man who understands the music because he has lived the life it represents, and not just read about it or decided it might just be the quickest route to the bank.

The swing of the opening track, "Don't Make Me Laugh (While I'm Drinkin'), gets things off to a raucous start. From the wistful opening pedal steel guitar compliments of Bobby Snell to the jazz-inflected guitar line and the exuberant fiddle work of Mr. Johnny Gimble, this is what a Texas Friday night is all about. And the shouts, ala Bob Wills, that punctuate some of the riffs bring it all home. If anyone out there needs a primer course in Texas swing, you've got it right here.

On the day that you left
I changed my address
Now the postman leaves the mail at the bar
Now I drink myself insane
Your memory remains
Still it's best if you stay gone just like you are

Well you came in here to see
If I'd take you back with me
Claimin' that you'd done a lot of thinkin'
Well I'm sorry it's this way
But all I've got to say now
Don't make me laugh while I'm drinkin'

"Remote Amigo" is an original song by Lost John that he wrote for Blaze Foley not long after Blaze was murdered. It is not miserably maudlin or sated with the trite high school angst that often passes for elegiac by today's standards; instead, it seems almost celebratory, which, considering Blaze's history, is fitting. There is a melancholy element underneath the high-spirited two-stepping energy of the music, but it is more the good-natured bereavement of someone who understands the temporary nature of all things rather than simply naïve despair. And I personally like the sly reference to Blaze's masterpiece "If I Could Only Fly."

This song's about how good friends
Come and go so easy
And some friends go so hard
It makes you cry
If I could only have the world the way I wanted
We all could fly and we'd never die
There'd be no more lonely nights

From here Lost John goes on to do a great honky-tonk version of Blaze Foley's "Faded Loves and Memories," and very possibly the best cover of George Jones' "Why Baby Why" I've ever heard; in fact, and I thoroughly understand the sacrilege involved, I'd put Lost John's version up against George's any day.

"Skid Row Rodeo," written by Bill Wilson, is one of the best songs I'd never heard. Lost John credits one of his friends, Cody Hubach, with having brought the song to his attention by singing it for the last twenty years, and I, for one, am damn glad he did. It's the tale of a cowboy who's come to the end of his line in more ways than one, and the lyrics are some of the most cleverly descriptive I've heard in some time. Apparently, Cody has passed away, but we all owe him and Bill Wilson a "thank you" for this one.

Sunday morning in pancake heaven
After Saturday night was used up
Everybody's tequila sunrise
Was a hungover coffee cup
There was an old man at the counter
In a beat up Stetson hat
Singin' 'Whiskey'll buy the memories'
And I could hear him from where I sat

He said I started out in Amarillo
Where the land is dusty and flat
From the Ohio down to Mexico
We rode everything after that
When all my bones were busted
Like my money and my pride
I saddled up ol' Jack Daniels
From there it's been a hell of a ride

Lost John Casner's music is the aural equivalent of Jameson's whiskey -- smooth, warm, and conducive to good feelings. He makes real honky-tonk music, the kind that intimidates mainstream country radio with its authenticity. So, if you've never been to Texas, or are an exile in need of some comforting, Lost John Casner's Don't Make Me Laugh (While I'm Drinkin') is the perfect shot of what you're missing.

* Belly up to the bar at www.lostjohn.com to find out more about the man and to pick up your very own copy of Don't Make Me Laugh (While I'm Drinkin').

Contact Jud Block at jud-at-rockzilla.net

 

 

 
Read the Rockzillaworld Guestbook
Sign the Rockzillaworld Guestbook
   
 

 
     
The opinions expressed by individual columnists do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Rockzillaworld. All content ©2003 Rockzillaworld. All rights reserved. No part of this site may be reproduced or copied without the written permission of the site owner. This includes html code.