Texas cowboy Brent Amaker has a way of following me around like one of those annoying imaginary friends in TV shows and movies. When I open up a cupboard looking for a box of cereal, he’s lounging on one of the shelves like a goddamn Cheshire Cat, wearing the hick get-up I hate most of all: tight dark-blue jeans, belt with a huge buckle, and cowboy boots. When I trudge up to my musty attic to grab an artifact, he’s up there too, giving me the thumbs-up and grinning like I can imagine he did when he wrote a lot of these lyrics. Hell, I’ll be holding my erect cock, on the cusp of sex, and his head will replace my wife’s, and this time instead of a gesture or grin he simply gives me a nod and mumbles, “Howdy Do.”
It’s disturbing.
But what can I do about this tough-as-leather cow-groper? It’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my psyche so, and it’s certainly not his. So, where from here? Well, I guess that’s what I’m trying to figure out with this review. I’m looking for closure, if you will, mainly because if I keep letting Amaker creep into my life, he’s going to fuck my wife.
His lyrics couldn’t be a clearer indication of his intent. “I’m the man who makes your panties wet/ So show me your tits,” he low-balls over the same Tenessee-two accompaniment found on Howdy Do’s every tune. Other lyrical topics include heartbreak ("Love will rob your stomach/ And give you heart disease"), fuckin’ (home of the simply essential "Girls are good for lots of things/ But lovin’ is the best thing I can think of" line), religion ("Hell ain’t so bad/ It’s where I’ll be/ And you ain’t savin’ me"), fightin’ ("I see him on his knees/ Beggin’ for his life/ If it wasn’t comin’ to him/ Then I deserve to die"), and, interspersed through it all, the need to constantly go out drinkin’ and druggin’.
If his topic matter doesn’t rope you in, his almost self-consciously simple songs will. Sharp as a boot spur and tough as Tinactin, his band, The Rodeo, hearken back to the days when, as so many indiephiles will agree, country was good. I’m talkin’ the standard suspects: Cash, Haggard, Buck Owens, Jack Scott, Ramblin’ Jack.... Frankly, I’m surprised more artists haven’t tried to mine this tough-but-funny territory of exaggerated cowboy-dom.
But then again, I’m surprised no one in the indie community has made a killer klezmer record, so maybe it’s just me. Either way, if you’re looking for an ass-kicking record that makes absolutely no bones about its crudity, cruelty, comedy, cocksmanship, and crassness, the best phrase you can probably utter is “Howdy Do.”
Just don’t do it at a mainstream record shop.
1. Welcome To The Rodeo
2. I'm The Man Who Writes The Country Hits
3. They Make Cowboys In Montana
4. When Love Gets To A Man
5. Howdy Do
6. Walkin' In My Sleep
7. Girls Are Good
8. You Ain't Savin' Me
9. Tell A Friend The Truth
10. My Cheatin' Wife
11. Knock You Out
12. This Is The Gun
13. Outro
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