Ive never been much of a churchgoer. I grew up with a dearth of Christian spirituals in my household, having been raised in an ultra-reform Jewish family. Except for the annual family reunion in a teeny town outside of Montgomery, where my uncle owned the local Piggly Wiggly, I never got a chance to sing along to the kind of bible-thumping songs that make the heart race and feet stamp and generally allow you to cast out your demons. Eventually, I discovered punk rock, and it filled that spiritual void.
The Oblivians, hailing from Memphis, have released a couple albums that strip the essence of punk rock down to its bare bones, all gut-wrenching, blues-delivered yowling with an occasionally off-kilter backbeat and loud, loud guitars. Its the kind of thing the churches warned about when they tried to keep race music off the air in the 50s. Of course, the music in itself IS spiritual; thats what people were afraid of. Anything that simple and uncontrived must be channeled by some kind of faith; whether or not its touting Gods word is irrelevant. Watching the Oblivians live is akin to attending a modern equivalent of a tent revival.
Add to this already heady mixture the demented church organ stylings of New Orleans Mr. Quintron and some traditional standbys (Live the Life, Whats The Matter Now), and you have a record that could convert the masses. Greg Oblivian has the touch of the evangelical showman. Probably the most rousing moments on this record are his originals that sound like traditionals: Feel All Right and Ride That Train are bad-ass gospel classics in the making.
Now I want to go to church and see how it compares.
Comments ()