The 500 - #403 - "Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd" - Lynyrd Skynyrd

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 403

Album Title: Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd
Artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd
Genre: Southern Rock, Hard Rock, Blues Rock
Recorded: Studio One, Doraville, Georgia
Released: August, 1973
My age at release: 8
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Tuesday's Gone

Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd by Lynyrd Skynyrd

This decision to buy this record, in the spring of 1985, was one I distinctly remember. I had eyed it for some time at my favourite record shop, Dr. Disc, in downtown London, but was reluctant to make the purchase. I was deep in my Progressive Rock phase and Lynyrd Skynyrd, a southern rock group, was a great departure from my tastes. I was also under the misguided impression that the band might be racist.

Movie Poster from The Blues Brothers

I suspect this thinking could be traced back to the movie The Blues Brothers which has been a favourite since my youth. In it, the protagonists Jake and Elwood Blues are travelling across the state in an effort to save their childhood orphanage by reuniting their band to play a fundraiser. En route, and broke, they secure a gig at a rural honky-tonk saloon under false pretenses. When they ask the bartender what kind of music is played in the bar, she replies: "Oh, we got both kinds. We got country and western."

In the film, the Blues Brothers Band would go on to perform their gig on a small stage behind chicken wire -- set up to shield the performers from the beer bottles that were hurled from the drunk and raucous crowd. 

This served to reinforce an opinion I had cultivated from television and film in the 1970s -- most people from the south, especially those who liked country and western music, were simple, violent and racist. They were, after all, the people who had gone to war in order to maintain slavery and who harranged Kwai Chang Caine weekly on Kung Fu. I suppose I should have been more troubled that the Chinese character was played by an Irish-American actor.

The 70s Television & Film that influenced
my opinion on The South

Sure, there were exceptions, the "good ol' boys" from Dukes of Hazzard and Burt Reynold's Bo Darville from the Smokey and the Bandit films. In both cases, charismatic protagonists were forced to battle the inherently corrupt lawmakers or establishment. They were, clearly, the exception.

Consequently, I was taken by surprise when I gave side one my first listen. I was familiar with Freebird, the album's epic final track, which featured the blistering guitar solo that had first drawn me to the band. However, the rest of the record was new territory.

I Ain't the One, the album's opening track was an absolute rocker and it was followed by the beautiful ballad, Tuesday's Gone. However, it was the the third track, Gimme Three Steps, that won me over. The lyrics, based on a true event lead singer Ronnie Van Zant experienced, weave a comedic tale about a young man who was... 

"cutting a rug in a place called The Jug with a girl named Linda Lou. When in walked a man with a gun in his hand and he was looking at you know who." 

Upon realizing it is Linda's boyfriend, the startled narrator pleads for a three-step head start toward the door, hoping to escape the situation. In some ways, the songwriter was embracing the stereotypes I had about people in the south -- where you could get shot for accidently dancing with the wrong girl. However, cleverly, he had turned the story into a comedic romp where no one actually gets hurt.

I was wowed and the record worked its way into my playing rotation frequently after. As I've matured, my inherent bias toward folk from the southern U.S. has softened. At the very least, I recognize it is there and I've become more accepting of everyone -- even if they only listen to Country and Western music.