1
You couldn't get that rich.
Then again, rich was relative.
You formed a band because you loved the music. Continued to play because the money was good and it kept you from the assembly line and boring professional jobs.
You were living an alternative lifestyle. Sleeping until noon. But everything worth experiencing happens after dark. Gain enough success, and that always came after paying a ton of dues, and the people came to see you. They bought you drinks, gave you dope, sucked your dick...
Yes, so many of the English musicians have gone on record. They played because they were shy and it was the only way to meet girls. And there's a power in music that actually supersedes money. Because when done right music is life itself. You're speaking through your instrument, through your lyrics, it's directly from your heart into theirs. It's irresistible.
So you're a gang, you're all in it together. And you might even be making good money, but the goal was a record deal. And hopefully resonance with the national, even worldwide audience, thereafter. You knew few made it, but you'd already come this far, so why not? And every band had a driving force, who could see the target, who could keep the band on course.
And it was never your first rodeo. You'd been playing in bands since high school. You knew what worked and what didn't. Who was reliable and who was not. That's not to say you weren't ripped-off multiple times along the way. By club owners, managers...
And if you were one of the few who went all the way... As your record gained success you worked on the road. Loving it, but doing drugs to endure it. And when the dates stopped you had to go back into the studio and cut another record. And if that was a success, if you went through the wash/rinse cycle a few times, that's when the cracks usually started to show.
It almost always comes down to money. Someone's making more than you. They say they wrote the songs, even though you created that bass part, that lead. Or the manager is stealing from you and you've had enough. People start to leave. Sometimes you can replace them, usually you cannot.
So you go back home, look at the four walls, and very soon you realize your only option is to...
Do it all over again. Maybe just play locally, so you can have a home life. Maybe associate with some others who've been through the mill, who have experience.
2
Everybody in Molly Hatchet is dead. Well, the original members. Then again, who are the original members? Danny Joe Brown might have been the front man, but it was guitarist Dave Hlubek's band. He formed it, he kept it together. He lived a long time for a member of Molly Hatchet, he made it all the way to 68. Guitarist Duane Roland made it to 53. Guitarist Steve Holland made it to 66. Drummer Bruce Crump lived to 57. Bass player Banner Thomas made it to 63. And singer Danny Joe Brown? His light went out at 53.
That's the classic version of Molly Hatchet. And there's still a Molly Hatchet on the road today, as long as someone is willing to pay...brand names, hit records, mean something, financially.
And Danny Joe Brown ultimately put out a solo record, I'd see it in the bins, with his crossed-arms visage staring me in the face. It was even produced by Glyn Johns, but it stiffed.
But for a while there, the original Molly Hatchet was intact, and had hits.
AND WHO THE F*CK CARED!
Southern rock started with the Allman Brothers. And then manager/label owner Phil Walden followed them with a slew of southern rock acts (as well as Captain Beyond, with the remnants of Iron Butterfly, I could never figure that one out). Even the Marshall Tucker Band, who started off southern rock before they went country and whose front man Toy Caldwell, as well as his brother Tommy, are long gone.
And after the first wave of southern rock, we got Lynyrd Skynyrd, Al Kooper plucked them from obscurity and they became giants on his Sounds of the South label, distributed by MCA.
As for Molly Hatchet? They seemed me-too.
But they had that one record, "Flirtin' With Disaster."
3
It hit the ground running, and then Danny Joe Brown started to sing and it was a veritable conflagration.
"I'm travelin' down the road and I'm flirtin' with disaster
I've got the pedal to the floor, my life is running faster
I'm out of money, I'm out of hope, it looks like self-destruction
Well, how much more can you take with all of this corruption"
I'm sure this was autobiographical. The music business is rife with corruption. Talk about not making money on Spotify? Used to be you made the money but it never ended up in your account.
"We're flirtin' with disaster, ya'll know what I mean
And the way we run our lives it makes no sense to me
I don't know about yourself or what you want to be, yeah
When we gamble with our time we choose our destiny"
Meat and potatoes. This is not intellectual, but rawly in your face. This ain't no disco, this ain't no foolin' around at CBGB's.
The Ramones had albums, critical acclaim, but almost no commercial success. They traveled in a van to play clubs.
But AOR? There was a station in every market. Playing music you needed to crank up as you drove your Camaro down the highway.
The war was over. Males breathed a sigh of relief. It was like some engineer turned the faders up to 11 and the ensuing sound drowned out everything else and made listeners feel good, they listened to the radio, bought the albums and went to the shows. They went to a lot of shows. It was part of the religion.
Of course corporate rock and repetition of the formula and mindless disco ultimately caused the business to collapse, but we were flirtin' with disaster right before that.
That's what rock meant. Leaving conventional society behind, thinking for yourself, doing it your way AND SUCCEEDING! The musicians were our heroes, our guides, we followed them and wished we could be them, BECAUSE THEY'D BEATEN THE SYSTEM!
4
And I like "Flirtin' With Disaster," the key rise in the second verse is enticing, but it's the guitar work that puts it over the top.
But I didn't spend much time thinking about Molly Hatchet, a band considered so unattractive they weren't even on their own album covers.
But a few years back I got hooked on their cover of the Allman Brothers' "Dreams," I knew it, but I never owned it. But in the modern streaming world I could play it ad infinitum, get hooked into a trance.
The original "Dreams," on the Allmans' debut, which was unknown by many even in the band's heyday, traction started with the follow-up, "Idlewild South," is a slow misty movement, with Gregg's angst. It's the kind of thing you listen to in the middle of the night, when you're at loose ends. Or first thing in the morning, after a bad night.
Whereas the Molly Hatchet version has got a head-nodding rhythm. Set by a bass note. And then the rest of the band comes in and half a minute in everybody's locked in. This is not about subtlety, this is about lifting the emporium, taking your spirits higher. Talk about squeezing out the rest of your thoughts and making you feel good...that's what Molly Hatchet's version of "Dreams" does, with a hint of anger and rebellion to boot.
5
So I'm sitting on the couch late last night scrolling TikTok and...
Instagram Reels is still mostly about self-promotion. But you never know what you'll find on TikTok. Right now what I like most is the people testifying about politics, because they evidence the emotion absent from the regular news. They feel it. They're pissed-off.
And my finger is pushing to scroll on my phone and then...I'm confronted with Molly Hatchet performing a live version of "Dreams"?
Normally I'd skip right by this, but like I just said, I've become enamored of their version.
And from the very beginning I'm brought back to the day. It's the way the band members are into it. Moving their bodies. Danny Joe Brown clapping his hands over his head, getting not only the band, but the audience in the groove.
And Danny Joe starts to sing and...it's not perfect. Is it his voice or the mix? But those guitars are chunking along in the background.
And Danny Joe looks like an ex-jock, all beefy, with the de rigueur long hair. Yes, this is what our musicians looked like back then.
And there was no backdrop, no production, never mind anything on tape/hard drive.
And the second verse begins and Danny Joe goes guttural. And he's wearing a shirt that says "Redneck Power." That's one thing the southern rockers did...they weren't ashamed of the educated, northern perception of them, they EMBRACED IT!
And now they're in the instrumental break. Some guy whose name I don't know is wailing on his Les Paul. All very good, this train is a-rollin'.
But then the camera angle changes, and you see THREE LEAD GUITARISTS!
WHAT?
Eric Clapton needed no one else.
Nor did the Police.
But Skynyrd did have three.
And now they're deep into the groove, everybody's shaking their ass in time, moving their bodies back and forth, ultimately swinging their guitars back and forth, which looks hokey all these years later, but that was relatively new back then.
And they're still playing.
And then all three guitarists are standing next to each other, performing the change. It's all in tune, together, how does this work?
And then it slows down for Danny Joe once again.
And all I can think of is being in the audience.
Maybe you didn't like Molly Hatchet, in that case you didn't go.
Forget reviews, not that there were many for live shows at all back then, never mind for Molly Hatchet.
But if you were there. You were caught in a trance, feeling the power, nodding your head, in your own space, connecting with the band and its music, a communal experience completely outside the rest of the world, never mind the building.
You were there. This was a peak. You'd leave the theatre tingling. The next day you'd tell all your friends about it. And the next time through, you'd drag them to the show.
And all there was was the experience, the feeling.
The band was wearing the same clothes they did off stage. It was clear they were not punching the clock, they were enjoying it, giving it their all, not only for those in attendance, but themselves.
And more people knew "Flirtin' With Disaster" than any Taylor Swift song today. And Drake and the Weeknd. This music was inescapable, and we were drawn to it. And it was not only southern rock, you could be a fan of the Talking Heads and James Taylor too, and Elvis Costello, because you were a fan of MUSIC!
And they say it's the same...
It's not.
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