Spittoon:

We Got Great Expectorations

by John Krajicek

"So I started this damn country band, 'cause punk rock is too hard to sing."
--- Whiskeytown's "Faithless Street"


Howdy, folks, and greetings from Bryan/College Station, Texas, a serious contender in the "Ditto, Rush!" bumper sticker race; where country music is generally more Branson than western; where Garth Brooks is more popular than Jesus--no wait, that's not true--we're smack dab in the middle of the Bible girdle--but Garth's arena-huge here. Where Lyle Lovett and Robert Earl Keen were college roomates (at Texas A&M). Folks around these parts do seem right proud of Lyle, but then they don't much listen to his records here. Probably for the some of the same reasons that when David Lynch films come to town, they leave quicker than Julia Roberts. On the other hand, if Robert Earl threw his cowboy hat into the ring of local political fire, he could defeat George W. Bush in a landslide. Go figure. But Bryan/College Station isn't all that bad. After all, it's the home of Spittoon.

Imagine you are in a smoky, crowded little bar, and a band is playing (a scene so readily imagined by us all that it seems almost archetypal). In fact, imagine that you are on stage... you're the lead singer in the band. You're covering the Violent Femmes' "Blister in the Sun," and the crowd, of course, screams every word along with you. The place is pulsating with energy. A young girl is dancing provocatively in front of the stage... she's liable to take her shirt off any second. You glance to your left, to your banjo player, and to your right, to your mandolin player, and.... WAIT! What? Banjo. Mandolin. Violent Femmes? Well, hell yes... this here's Spittoon we're talking about!

Spittoon can certainly pass as bluegrass. Our instrumentation is the standard bluegrass fare--banjo (Chris "Roscoe" Holcomb), mandolin (Jimmie "Sensitive New Age Guy with a blackbelt" Killingsworth), acoustic guitar (Jim "biological son of both Paul McCartney and Ricky Skaggs" Baker), and upright bass (Ron "exploding bass" Rushing). We cover many of the bluegrass standards, such as "How Mountain Girls Can Love," "Blue Ridge Mountain Blues," "Whoa Mule," "Blue Night," and, with enough encouragement from the crowd, even the theme from Deliverance. But we also do tunes no other self-respecting hillbilly band would dream of playing. In addition to a growing list of originals, such as "Piedmont Blues," "Los Angeles Has Moved to Austin," and "Faded Love With Booze - Opus 21," we cover AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long," the Police's "Next to You," several Beatles songs, "Suspicious Minds" (our Vegas Elvis moment), and, yep, "Blister in the Sun." And though we make those tunes our own, so to speak, we don't just remake them into bluegrass numbers. We like to think we rock across genres. (Who knows, we might just try bluegrass rap--then again, maybe not).

Does this make us alternative? Well, hell, I don't know. In this postmodern time of fluid labels and empty signifiers, I really don't know what that term means anymore. But, well, yeah, I guess so. It's a matter of perspective. Steve Earle claims that "bluegrass is the original alternative country music" (No Depression #20, March-Aprill 1999). And hardcore Bluegrass fans would certainly think that any band that plays punk, whether they do bluegrass standards or not, is most definitely alternative (in addition to being lead singer, I also handle percussion duties, which in our case, means little egg "shakers"--when we played a live a radio spot on the local bluegrass show recently, the d.j. said something to the effect of "I ain't never seen one of them little egg things before"). Maybe it's an inbreeding thing--we're just trying to expand the gene pool a bit. And I suppose our fans who listen to alternative radio stations (how can a station with a set playlist be alternative?), who wouldn't know Lester Flatt from Buck Owens, see us as alternative. Maybe we're alternative to alternative.

But we don't really think too much in terms of genre. Our banjo player Chris calls bluegrass "punkrock for hillbillies." When I asked him to offer his vision of Spittoon, he said "What I see linking all the diverse music we perform is energy. When I think of the songs that I'm drawn to, I don't think in established categories or genres, but in energy....what makes my foot stomp. Even though I'm a banjo player, there's alot of bluegrass music that (while I can respect it) I don't like all that much. Alison Kraus, for instance, and New-Grassy sounding stuff. They've polished all the rough edges off the music. It's too smooth, too tame. Give me the Stanley Brothers over them any day. If Ralph Stanley (that is, Ralph Stanley in his prime) showed up at a punk rock club with his banjo and started playing, I guarantee you there'd be a mosh pit and stage diving."

Ron "exploding bass" Rushing, author of my favorite Spittoon lines --"she wants a man who's suave and rich, good looks combined with tallness; all I've got is athlete's feet and male-pattern baldness"--likes to point out the simplicity of Spittoon's acoustic approach: "If we really wanted to, we could play all of our music on a street corner unplugged... we aren't totally dependent on amplification, or distortion, or fuzzy wah-wahs, to do our songs. Since acoustic music doesn't have the crutch of electronic affects, then musicianship supercedes electronic gadgetry."

Amen. So whatever you call us, bluegrass or hyperbilly or punkgrass or alternative, it's straightforward musicianship, simplicity, and energy that we're after. I feel very lucky indeed to be singing for these experienced alternative mountain boys (who, frighteningly, educate America's youth when they're not playing music--four of us teach English at Texas A&M University, and one teaches at a local middle school). These boys're serious pickers who appreciate all forms of music. The energy they create is addictive as hell. And by the way, in case you're wondering where we got our name, I'll tell you. It came in a vision--a guy named Jethro appeared on a flaming frito pie and said unto us "From this day on you are Spittoon."

John Krajicek (with a little help from his loogie brothers)

jck1754@acs.tamu.edu

(Editor's note: the other members of Spittoon would like to add that John "the Rooster" Krajicek "screams out the vocals, stomps, and shakes his vittles like a tornado ablaze").

For more information about Spittoon (and to hear one of their tunes), visit their website at:
http://acs.tamu.edu/~jab8056/spittoon/index.html

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