Shoe Money
Misspent Youth
Cowtown Records
By David Pilot
 Shoe
Money. Never heard of 'em. Album art's funky. The big green
cartoon guy on the front looks a lot like Frankenstein sitting
at a corner bar in Boise. Track list looks interesting, though,
what with cuts named "Part Time Band," "The Fastest
Chevette in West Branch," "The Other Year I Wrote the
Book." At a glance? Another Midwestern folk-rock/alt.country/safe
punk/Mellencamp melodrama.
At a listen? Something more.
The sound is somewhere between Mellencamp with harmony and
Slobberbone on downers. Information on the band is hard to come
by. Or at least it is if you're not in or around Iowa City,
where apparently Shoe Money are local heroes of one sort or another.
Fronted by Brian McNeil, a well-educated (Ph.D in religion and
history) young man who could be safely ensconced in a tenured
position somewhere spewing angstless platitudes to the open sucking
minds of the nation's tortured youth, the band with their third
release attempts to delve into the roots of youth and maturity.
Typical Midwestern stuff, the Heartland and Scarecrow
all over again one would think. Or not.
The title track makes it pretty clear this route will go a
bit afield.
I picked the wrong college
I got the degree
But they never told me
What I wanted to be
And then,
Laugh because you're angry
Or cry because you're glad
Look right in the mirror
Believe every word you've said
But sometimes
Break your own rules
Because you can't regret
Your misspent youth
Whatzis? Personal accountability? To laugh in the faces
of failure that stare back at your own morning stubble? Somebody
who's not blaming his strung-out mommy and workaholic two-fisted
daddy for his problems? Naw. Couldn't be.
But it is. Misspent Youth, in fact, is an anomaly,
a coming of age in America record that thumbs its nose at the
establishment by finding glee in the losses and proposing a toast
to the triumphs. This one's all about the little wins that seem
so glorious under the neon, the beater cars that usually run,
the women that sometimes find them so gloriously attractive.
Above all, it's a raw and edgy musical jaunt through the lives
of four or five of your best drinking buddies. The jangly guitars
and staccato rhythm section evoke...well...other Midwest bands,
but the tonal changes and occasionally distorted electric leads
("Dirty John's") keep things interesting. McNeil's
vocals are twangy at times, but more often ragged and worn down
to the strong that remains when the glitz is stripped away.
There's even some religion for those so inclined, but as noted
above its tack is not exactly aligned with the one tradition
mandates. If you've ever been Baptist or Methodist or anything
similar, this one's as familiar as they come. You'll appreciate
it if you've questioned what you were force-fed, you'll despise
it if you haven't, but either way you'll be forced to agree the
piano-driven melody's awfully pretty.
She was made for the world to share
Just feast your eyes
She'll look back at you
As if she knows a thing or two
You don't
Sunday School lesson that you had long forgotten
Said Jesus loved the party
And the children
The temperance union they come around
Quotin' scripture just to get me down
They mean well but they lie
At times McNeil's voice will grate and the accompaniment can
become a nuisance, but at no point through Misspent Youth
will the lyrics let one down. It's not every day that a writer
who's been through all the education and gone at life the "right"
way turns around and deconstructs what he now sees in middle
age as his own misspent youth. The fact that the writer's doing
it from behind a microphone fronting a part time band is enough
on its own to make the occasion memorable. Thankfully Shoe Money's
got the skill to make it much more than simply that.
*There's a website in the works for Shoe Money at www.shoemoney.net, and a quick Google search
will point you to some interesting reading on the band. And
their record's for sale at www.milesofmusic.com
Contact David Pilot at: tailgunner-at-rockzilla.net
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