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This song actually came from the episode in the first season of Sons of Anarchy where that Mexican bike gang leader dude was having his bro get stabbed in the park, and this mellow ass version of Creedence Clearwater Revival was playing, and both me and the ol’ lady were like, “oh shit, that’s some next level awesomeness,” meaning the music not the Mexicans stabbing each other in the park, though with the influx of immigrants into the further reaches of Virginia, I guess it is potentially some next level shit on that front too. Most of the Mexicans around here are first wave hard-working types, occasionally a little hip-hoppy, but mostly salt of the wretched earth types, not the full-on 39 people around a picnic table on Sunday afternoon at the park and seven of the guys have their shirts off and are covered in tattoos and they look cool as fuck but if you try to go play horseshoes on the horseshoe pits they will make you leave because the one guy in the tattoo shirt is the winner and he’s got the next game and he doesn’t feel like playing right this minute because he’s eating, meaning he’s drinking.
Anyways, I googlefinded the song in question, and upon googling about Sons of Anarchy, I partially ruined the show for myself by reading what a giant self-important prick the guy who writes the show is. (He’s the Big Otto dude who is in jail, and in real life is married to Katey Sagal aka Peg Bundy aka Head Ol’ Lady.) The writer guy is kind of like if you took Kevin Smith (who sucks), but made him grow up somewhere far less stupid than New Jersey, like a fake south place, meaning not the for real south but somewhere like southern Indiana or rural New Hampshire or the whiter parts of Arizona up near Colorado where people are flying confederate flags except they are not in the south. But you have a Kevin Smith type grow up in one of these places, get addicted to heroin and then find salvation from drugs through creativity not Jesus, and he will be a giant overly sensitive jackass about his creativity, because it his personal salvation.
That being said, I really like Sons of Anarchy, and I hate most everything ever. In fact, when it comes to TV, Sons of Anarchy is probably the only currently active pretendery show that I do not hate. Which sucks for me because usually I jump in on a show long after everybody else and I can plow through its entire existence on Netflix. Sons of Anarchy was so overloaded with a long wait when the second season came out that I actually bought it (meaning stole) from Best Buy, meaning walk out right in front of a sketchy kid so when the door alarm goes off, they wave you on and start harassing the sketchy looking kid. Sorry random black dude, but I had to get Sons of Anarchy Season Two! It ain’t my fault they racist.
The whole bluegrass remakes of different classic rock things was a good idea like the first four minutes you heard it, but then they wore that shit to death. TO DEATH. But mellow acoustic guitar instrumentals of that stuff, that would be tight as fuck. I’d just play it on my genetically engineered cyber-horse, riding around Fluvanna County, dragging home women and chickens to add to my growing flock. That’s what would happen in the future if Lyle Workman does a whole collection of CCR acoustic sunrise greatness like this. Which would ultimately lead to me getting stabbed by a Mexican in a park, bringing it all full circle. That is the beautiful ebb and flow of the universe we live in, brothers and sisters.
STEAL "Fortunate Son"
NEXT MONTH: Last month!
1 comment:
I really want to believe that's Brad Pitt in that picture.
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