“I split a mountain in two with a flake of snow.”
- Let's Go Dancing/Drivin' n Cryin'
Boy, where do I even start with this? The idea of trying to summarize a 40-year influence is a challenge. I guess I'll start here:
I often listen to Rhett Miller's podcast (Wheels Off). He's the front man for the long-rockin' Texas outfit known as the Old 97s. Every episode, Rhett talks with some musician he knows or reveres about music, the joys and horrors of the road, and life in general. All the guests are folks that music nerds esteem but the average person would likely be clueless about. It's a niche interest like roller derby or blacksmithing.
Most recently, Rhett talked with Kevn Kinney (no i in Kevn), longtime of Drivin' n Cryin' and his own solo career. Drivin' n Cryin' are top five of my favorite bands of all time, maybe top three. For four decades their music has been a soundtrack to my life.
It's music that's un-categorizable. I've heard Kevn say Drivin' n Cryin' is like your record collection, there's everything in there - things for flyin' high-speed down the highway and things for cryin' your heart out. It's one reason they've never been commercially successful, they don't fit anywhere. That's a beautiful thing.
I was first introduced to them back in 1987. I was talking music with a guy that I didn't even know, just an of-handed conversation. He said if he could give me one piece of advice it would be to check out an album called Whisper Tames the Lion by this band out of Athens, Georgia, Drivin' n Cryin'. You won't be sorry, he said. I did and I wasn't. I became an instant follower.
In early ‘91 D-n-C had an FM radio hit called Fly Me Courageous. It was in heavy rotation on alternative stations and their popularity saw a modest uptick. Enough so that they made it on Letterman, whatever that’s worth. But that one song defined them for many and they were pigeonholed into a category by their record label (sort of pre-grunge/quasi-hair metal) and it wanted more of the same. You gotta feed the beast to keep it happy. Between record label expectations and the usual demons that haunt rock bands, D-n-C found themselves dropped by the label and in a kind of rock and roll purgatory.
During the early 90s, Kevn released two very fine solo records and D-n-C soldiered on and slowly regained their footing. The long and short of it is, after being abused by their record company, they decided to do what they do and to hell with anyone's expectations. If you like it, join in. If not, thanks anyway.
Let me say, they have a passionate and loyal fanbase. I'm part of it and I've witnessed the allegiance at different shows I've been to. I've seen them several times, the first in 1992 and the last in 2019. I've never been disappointed.
I'll mention just one. It's the one I recall most fondly:
From 1992-1996, as part of my work with St. Francis Hospital in Memphis, I was the strength coach for the University of Memphis' baseball team. For extra money, some of our players used to work security at The New Daisy Theatre on Beale Street. All kinds of bands came through there. One of our guys, Jeff, was a gregarious sort, who made the acquaintance of several musicians, Kevn Kinney being one of them. He got to know him pretty well. One afternoon around 1994, Jeff called me (land line style). He said Kevn was in town doing some recording and he was going to play an unannounced gig at this small bar called The Library on the Highland Strip. I said thank you very much and I went. Kevn was well known around but word had not gotten out. There were about 35 of us there and we had ourselves a private show. A good memory.
There's a fine documentary about the band. It's called Scarred But Smarter, so named after one of Kevn's songs. Scarred but smarter…most all of us understand that sentiment, don't we?
On the podcast, Kevin talked with Rhett about his career. He's 65 now and if a rock and roller makes it that long you know he's figured a few things out. He said that every show he plays he has a little mantra that he says to himself before he goes out: Play it like it's your first and last show. Play like you did your first shows when you were just happy to have the gig - and, play it like it's the last show you'll ever get to play. Leave it all out there.
That seems like a pretty good way to approach every day of life, huh?
If you've seen the movies A Complete Unknown or Inside Llewyn Davis you'll catch Kevn's vibe here about time spent in Greenwich Village, NY.