Uncle Tupelo
One of the great insecure pleasures of being a fan of non-radioed bands is discovering them before someone else did. So you can say you knew them when, back when they were just another band. It's pretentious I know, but you know there's a chick in South Carolina who says she used to go out with the guitar player from Hootie and the Blowfish who's charging an extra $20 for a blowjob ($10 if you can beat her deadbeat boyfriend at darts).
Anyway, my moment was with Uncle Tupelo. The second wife of alt-country, the founders of the sound soon-to-be-called 'No Depression' (after their first record title, the song of which was a Carter Family song from way back yonder), these guys were still a fucking amazing band. Jeff Tweedy, who'd go on to be the bigger star in Wilco, was an eager bassist, the kind of guitarist who isn't as confident as the other guitarist in the band. Jay Farrar, who'd go on to be the ursa minor in Son Volt, had this extreme, soulful, gritty voice. And he'd play the guitar like it was Husker Du or Dinosaur Jr., two of my favorites.
I discovered this band on a cable access show, airing at 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday nights in St. Louis. It was called 'Critical Mass' and it was hosted by this gorgeous woman named DeDe Scofield, who also worked at a prominent shop in the antique district of Soulard, over whose environs the Anheuser-Busch plant churned. She showed music videos that MTV would never show; one of my favorites was 'This Gift' by Mudhoney, which they used to open the show. Best video I ever saw was 'Good Guys and Bad Guys' by Camper Van Beethoven.
So along with the music videos, DeDe would feature one local band a week, playing a couple songs. The first week I tuned in, she had Uncle Tupelo in their rehearsal space, which looks like a basement/bedroom in Belleville. I liked the two songs I heard a lot.
And I remember they just looked like nervous kids playing rock. They looked down at their guitars, and they believed in their songs. And they looked nervous as hell. I remember that now, being about 15, not having ever experienced a band like that before. I hadn't even thought about being in a band yet. I didn't know what being in a band was. This was not only a look at Uncle Tupelo when they were young, it was probably my first look at a band that had no profession. Just drive.
Well every now and then, the Internet comes through. The clip I saw when I was 15 is now on Youtube. Judge for yourself.
Anyway, my moment was with Uncle Tupelo. The second wife of alt-country, the founders of the sound soon-to-be-called 'No Depression' (after their first record title, the song of which was a Carter Family song from way back yonder), these guys were still a fucking amazing band. Jeff Tweedy, who'd go on to be the bigger star in Wilco, was an eager bassist, the kind of guitarist who isn't as confident as the other guitarist in the band. Jay Farrar, who'd go on to be the ursa minor in Son Volt, had this extreme, soulful, gritty voice. And he'd play the guitar like it was Husker Du or Dinosaur Jr., two of my favorites.
I discovered this band on a cable access show, airing at 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday nights in St. Louis. It was called 'Critical Mass' and it was hosted by this gorgeous woman named DeDe Scofield, who also worked at a prominent shop in the antique district of Soulard, over whose environs the Anheuser-Busch plant churned. She showed music videos that MTV would never show; one of my favorites was 'This Gift' by Mudhoney, which they used to open the show. Best video I ever saw was 'Good Guys and Bad Guys' by Camper Van Beethoven.
So along with the music videos, DeDe would feature one local band a week, playing a couple songs. The first week I tuned in, she had Uncle Tupelo in their rehearsal space, which looks like a basement/bedroom in Belleville. I liked the two songs I heard a lot.
And I remember they just looked like nervous kids playing rock. They looked down at their guitars, and they believed in their songs. And they looked nervous as hell. I remember that now, being about 15, not having ever experienced a band like that before. I hadn't even thought about being in a band yet. I didn't know what being in a band was. This was not only a look at Uncle Tupelo when they were young, it was probably my first look at a band that had no profession. Just drive.
Well every now and then, the Internet comes through. The clip I saw when I was 15 is now on Youtube. Judge for yourself.
posted by stinkrock at 1:01 AM
2 Comments:
You verbed radio. Nice.
Not least of their accomplishments in this clip is rocking the cowbell so mightily.
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