Don Gibson

Roy Orbison liked Don Gibson so much he recorded an entire album called Roy Orbison Sings Don Gibson. I don't have that record. One of the few covers Neil Young ever recorded was Don Gibson's "Oh, Lonesome Me." I don't have that one either. Don Gibson got his start in Nashville with Chet Atkins producing his two songs. All of which of course begs the question, can Bottle crap on Don Gibson for 5 paragraphs? 

I'm kidding. His nickname is "The Sad Poet." I like sad songs a lot, or at least as long as they aren't secretly mysogynistic garbage about women being terrible, so i could end up liking this. Don't give me that look, it's not either of the other Boots Randolph albums i have. Ok fine, no promises either way. We'll just stream of consciousness this thing like i do when i'm tired of all the hot garbage the world served up on today's pu pu platter. 

Sure, it might be a bit jarring to go from Jack White's surprise Country album through Kid Cudi and Billie Eilish to this not at all surprise Country album, but behind the scenes i'm gonna go riffle through a dead guy's record collection tomorrow afternoon, so perspective thingy. 

Oof, that's a lovely terrible opening. Believe it or not there's a lot of Buddy Holly here to hear. Hate the first song, straight up. Not the hick accent, or the lyrics though, the actual content. I don't like the second song either. Again, i like the music fine, just not what the song is about. Women = chickens who turn out to be whores. 

3 in a row, room temperature garbage and its finest. Love the music, though. Can i forget i listened to it? I guess time will tell. Well, at least he's gonna lie about it and say he left her, being the fool that tried to fool everybody. I know it's subtle, but I'm Gonna Fool Everybody is quite good. 

So, side a. If you like old time fiddle and Country that sounds exactly like 50s Rock and Roll, but twangy, then you'll love all of this. My problem is that i can't get a consistent fix on it. If it were total sarcasm like early Offspring i'd love it. It's not though. I don't hate Country at all, i hate propaganda disguised as wholesome entertainment. 

So like when side b opens with the sentiment that it's all his fault, i'm good. Own your failures, be sad that you were such a putz, opine how useless you are that you'll never change, that's all good stuff. It's the other stuff, the ones where you blame her and i have to try to figure out if it's dramatic irony or you're a legitimate ass, that's the stuff i hate. 

See? Run, Boy is great, he's straightforwardly saying don't be a dipshit, just go apologize and salvage your relationship so you don'tend up singing Don Gibson songs to 4 drunk people in a bar in [frantically searching google maps for a silly town name] Pickens, Arkansas. I mean, don't lie if you don't actually mean it, but if we're hearing it as his older self telling his younger self he doesn't like where he ended up, then that's great. But then we get the "i should hate you, but sweet dreams are made of cheese" and that particular cheese just smells like inedible foot fungus. 

I knew you were a slutty whore but i fell for you like an idiot (he said it more poetic and shit, but see my earlier hot garbage statement). How's this any different from being sad that the stripper from the club doesn't actually love you? It's not, glad we got that cleared up. 

K, so believe it or not i really like Don Gibson. Half these songs are total crap, but as far as old Country goes, the other half are lovely. You can disagree, but to me the overemphasized drawl and twang (like Sturm und Drang, but redneckier), only works if you sound like a hick loser while actually imparting something insightful. That's total prejudice on my part, but who wants to hear dirt-farmer cleetus hate women out loud performed as profundity? Like i said, it only works for me if we both know you don't actually mean it. Half the time you sound like you actually mean it. 

It's like when you have a coworker who you know is clearly going to quit soon, but he hides all of his upset until after you go to lunch and then blows up and leaves and doesn't come back. Like, half your brain says yeah he's trying to get fired rather than quit, so the second time when he does get fired you have to spend all night rehearsing what you'll do when he shows up the next morning to murder everyone. Then you got that 20 minute window where as every car comes around the corner your heart rate increases and you just hope it isn't his car. Then that passes and we're all good and you have to just get through the normal boring day like always. 

Fans of the show will tell you, when Bottle just electively volunteers up a Country album, it only so he can say "yep, at least my life isn't that kind of ridiculous self-inflicted hot garbage and i don't project it onto other people to duct tape my shattered ego back together. If the shards were sharp enough to shave, i still probably wouldn't." 

I'm weird.