FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1999. All Rights Reserved
| Music by Mary-Lynn McEwen King’s X with Galactic Cowboys So as the old joke goes around music circles: Q. How many guitar players does it take to change a lightbulb? A. 400. One to change the lightbulb and 399 to stand and watch and say "I can do that." With King’s X, a Houston rock trio with a furious sound just that side of the junkyard of broken rock ’n’ roll, the joke should be altered: Q. How many guitar players does it take to create a King’s X gig? A. 400. One to play and 399 to watch and say "Wow!" It’s not that the band is an obvious blow-away type thing, like Hendrix or Prince or Nirvana, it’s just that every single musician – as opposed to the lay listener – you meet has already bought tickets to their show. Like, two years ago. Even though the gig was only booked in November. It’s that kind of audience for that kind of band. "We have a Grateful Dead kind of following – that’s our following, but they’re all musicians," affirms bassist/vocalist Doug Pinnick as he takes a moment from moving into his recently acquired resale house to reflect on which shelf his band rests upon in history’s museum of rock. "It’s very cool – I mean, our peers, that we’ve looked up to and have been inspired by when we were kids, are fans of ours, and it’s a beautiful and overwhelming thing. It baffles me, too, because I don’t consider myself any more special than what I do, basically. We don’t appreciate what we do ourselves because we’re too close to it. So I’m just flattered and happy that musicians love us like they do. It amazes me that I have a part in rock history somewhere." And if one feels that Calgary’s own alternatrash rock crowd might not be the best barometer of things that go bump in the great big scary world, a quick slip down the cyberspace tube shows no fewer than a half-dozen sites devoted to the band that are maintained by numerous fans. Obviously, music from the band’s seven albums has hit more chords than just those that comprise the songs among the group’s talented following. Hearing Pinnick talk of his impoverished childhood in which he was raised by his holy-rollin’ grandma who banned radios, stereos and television until Doug left at the age of 14, you start to understand the power music gave him and why that power shines through to his followers. "Everything was devil music unless it was gospel music. There was very little of that in the house, either, because we were poor so we didn’t have a stereo, or a TV.... I’d go to someone else’s house and they had the stereo going. I’d sit in front of it the whole time I was there." By the time Pinnick moved into his mother’s house at 14 years of age, she had six other children and he became the babysitter. "Once again I was stuck in a situation, but this time, there was a radio – Motown, Aretha, the Temptations, James Brown – my stereo was turned on all day and all night. Even when I’d go to bed at night, I’d leave the music on." Pressures growing up were compounded by dyslexia, which meant school bottomed out for Pinnick early on. His attitude towards authority, and being told anything, remains to this day. The self-labeled slacker and owner of nearly 7,000 albums admits that sticking with anything, even a band, for 20 years has been a challenge. "I have a terrible time with committing to anything," he says. "As soon as you say I have to, my whole body rejects it. But as far as I’m concerned, if you fall in love with someone, you don’t think about commitment, you just do it. With this band, it’s the same thing. This is my family, this is what I do. Jerry (Gaskill, the drummer) always says we’re driven, you know, there’s no thought behind it. I’ve been making it ever since I can remember. Singin’ it or banging on something. My mother said when I could not talk I was trying to sing melodies, and I knew every record that she had in the house even though I couldn’t read. I was always obsessed with music." A casual listen to Tape Head, the band’s seventh original album and their first since they parted company with Atlantic records, reflects that passion. Again, it’s not that it blows you away, but the metallically constructed songs and fresh little riffs dig in and work their way into your aorta. Talking about the meaning music has injected into his life, Pinnick feels a wistful anxiety for younger people today. "The kids today have it really sad, because they’ve got no reason to stand up for anything... or to sing about anything, except the abuse they’ve suffered from their parents, basically. Every generation has something new and there’s nothing going on right now except betrayal and deceit." Well, there’s hope for some of them, at least. The ones who’ve turned those betrayals into music and will show up to stand with other musicians and pay homage to King’s X. |
| Back To This Issue Table of Contents | Back To Main Index |