Beer Drinking & Hell Raising

This began as a review of the new CD 60,000 Years by Texas metal band Superheavygoatass on Arclight Records. It became something else entirely.

I think it was in January of 1986. I’d been out of high school for almost a year, but I was still hanging out at the local game room on Saturday nights. I might shoot some pool, definitely play a lot of pinball, and sometimes try my luck on either the Super Mario Brothers or 720º video games. It was a usual night around midnight (the place shut down at 12:30 AM) when a couple of my old high school friends asked me if I wanted to go cruising around. Normally, it would be an automatic yes, but these dudes gave me the creeps and I just knew the evening would somehow end badly if I went. But since I had nothing better to do, I decided to take them up on the offer as long as I was the driver. We didn’t get 50 feet from the game room when one of them, T-dog, said, “Why don’t we go get my GTO, it’s a much better car to cruise in,” and so my sinking feeling continued especially when J.R. agreed.

So we drove over to T-dog’s house and grabbed his classic GTO. It was a candy apple red early 70’s model with a killer stereo. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. We picked up some beer, all of us under the drinking age of 21, and proceeded to head for the country. Riding around and drinking beer seems very boring to me now, but back then it was almost like a sport. Of course, you had to throw your empty bottles at mailboxes afterwards for fun. See Richard Linklater’s Dazed And Confused for a very accurate portrayal of typical teen redneck behavior. I wasn’t a redneck though. I was a punk rocker who didn’t fit in with the art of cruising, drinking, and fighting even if I did end up doing more than my fair share of it. It’s a typical small town lament. It soon became clear that it was just too damn cold for most people to be out, so we had the back roads to ourselves. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of The Moon was on the stereo and I wondered if or when the subject of dope would come up. I really didn’t relish the though of being stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a couple of stoned idiots,, plus I was having to think up excuses that I could use when I would surely be asked to take a hit. I wasn’t a straight edge punk or angel, but that night didn’t seem like the right night to be letting my mind go astray.

Luckily, both T-dog and J.R. weren’t holding and I wasn’t too worried about the little bit of beer consumption that had taken place. We hadn’t even seen any cops so I was beginning the whole experience as being extremely dull and uneventful which is not that bad a thing when T-dog decided to go all musical on me. My reputation as a punk was pretty well known – there weren’t very many people walking around with Circle Jerks shirts in Murfreesboro back then – but T-dog knew I used to be a big for starters, a big metal head, and that I also actually liked a lot more music, much of which I would have never owned up to liking (Suzanne Vega, anyone). So he started digging out tapes that usually didn’t mix with cruising. If I was pressed to name the quintessential cruise tape, ZZ Top’s Deguello comes to mind immediately; it rocked yet has a Texas roadhouse groove just perfect for drinking beer and raising hell. T-dog first puts on The Monkees. J.R. starts complaining, so T-dog looks to me for back up. “I just knew you would like The Monkees.”

Next it’s some Aerosmith, which would have been tolerable except it was their lousy live set that came out in the 70’s, followed by really terrible heavy metal era Alice Cooper, and then when I’m thinking the night can’t get any worse he unleashes Janis Joplin on me. Before all of the Janis fans spring to her defense, I recognize that she could really belt out a tune, but I have never liked her voice. I’m more of a Bessie Smith sort of guy. It’s a completely personal reaction which is exactly what T-dog got that night. “Stop it, please,” I begged, “I can’t take any more of her caterwauling.” You’d think I had just killed his mother.

“Get out of my car,” he growled. I thought he was joking at first, but it soon became clear he was serious. We were miles from any houses, it was freezing cold, and who knew where the nearest pay phone would be. Man, this was just not going to be a good night if I had to walk for miles in the freezing cold. I got out of the car and they went on, probably to go slash the tires on my car. I started to trudge up the road when it suddenly dawned on me that this particular nowhere was a few miles from a somewhere that might offer some warmth and a ride back into town. My good and real friend, the Gonz, had a house just across the cow pasture I was walking beside. It was probably a good five miles away by road, but if I cut across the pasture it couldn’t be more than a couple of miles. So I dodged frozen cow patties and made my way to the Gonz’s home. He was bummed about being awoken at 4 in the morning, but after I told him the Janis story he was cool. He didn’t care too much for her either. We got into his beat up Camaro, cranked up some Black Sabbath, and roared back to town. “I bet you’re glad to get out of the cold,” he said.

“The cold wasn’t that bad, I’m just glad to be riding in a car with some good music playing.”

Superheavygoatass's new album out on Arclight Records titled 60,000 Years would have been good to listen to while cruising. Its stoner rock with a Texas twang and chunky guitar chords thick as briskets perfect for testing out the low end of your stereo. They used to be known as simply Goatass, but Austin legend Handsome Joel added the Superheavy part to their moniker and super heavy they are. Fans of Kyuss and Sabbath type thunder rock need to check these dudes out. Russell Abbott is on vocals and guitar. Brent Boepple holds down the bass. Tim Hurt keeps the ride riding and the crash crashing. Derrick Halfmann kicks a little ass on guitar.

60,000 Years is supposed to have some sci-fi connection laced with a little Satanism, but I thought the lyrics were more than a little bit vague and minimal. The songs could use a little tightening up. Maybe label mates RPG can teach them a thing or two about brevity, but long jams tend to come with the territory of stoner rock. Highlights include “SSOB” which features a snappy guitar solo with lots of hammer-ons; sludge rock that kicks it into overdrive. Most of the tracks on the album begin with a slow bass line and then build brick by brick into total heaviness. “Built To Last” breaks that mold with a memorable riff that really grooves. “Ms. Underhill” is the epitome of beer drinking Trans Am music. Look for Superheavygoatass this summer as they tour the country spreading good heavy vibes to the masses.

I made it back to town with Gonz’s help and my car was just fine. T-dog met us in the front of his house and asked me where I’d gone. It seems that he went back for me after ten minutes or so. It was just a big joke, ha-ha. I should have slugged him, but I accepted his lame story and noted to self to turn him down the next time he wanted me to hang out with him. I got into my old Buick, cranked up some Black Flag and called it a night since the sun was now coming up.