MG_3812Let me tell you how I got into country music. I was at Glastonbury. It was the second night. I went back to crawl into my tent, but some twat had stolen it.

The only place to rest was a giant tent hosted by some Christian group, but you know how Christians are. They offer you a bed, then keep yapping about a chap from donkey’s years ago who got murdered for my benefit, in line with some rules his dad had invented. Sometimes the dad or son will talk to you inside your head, but only in your head. It all sounded a bit fishy to me, and they didn’t let me sleep, so the next night I decided to just go home. Screw the festival and everyone in it.

I was walking to the exit in a foul mood, when suddenly I heard the voice of God. No, just kidding, it was Johnny Cash. It was the greatest voice I’d ever heard. I turned around and listened to the rest of his set. I got so into country music that I went to Nashville and got a job in a cheesy Grand Ol’ Opry theme park. Sadly, in Nashville they only like the rubbish modern country music. If you say you like Hank Williams, they ask which one.

So that’s how I came to skip YMO in favor of the Kensington Hillbillies. I’d also bumped into them earlier and they promised to play “Cocaine Blues”, which is just about the best country music song for a festival. It’s also a good moral lesson for the kids, teaching them that it’s bad to snort cocaine and shoot your girlfriend.

So it’s early Sunday evening and the Hillbillies should have no people at all watching them. Kazuyoshi Saito is on the White Stage, YMO are on the Green Stage, and this is the third set this weekend from the country canucks. But there’s a decent crowd of people.

The Hillbillies come on and play a trio of Hank Williams tunes. Then they play one of their own tunes, and it’s actually better than the first three (to be fair to Mr Williams, they didn’t play the songs his way). Anyway, they prove that a bunch of boys from Toronto can write country every bit as well as some grizzly old sod from Tennessee. There’s a blatant Johnny Cash riff in there, but I think it’s deliberate.

Next they play a tune by that classic country band The Clash. It’s “Straight To Hell”. The singer sounds like Bob Dylan when he sings it. That’s neither a criticism nor a compliment. It’s just an observation.
And then, well, they still aren’t playing Cocaine Blues. Have they forgotten? Did they decide not to let some random pot-bellied white boy help them with their set list?

Time’s moving on.

“We’ve got two more songs for you,” says the singer. Yes? Come ON! “This one’s from our latest album.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s quite good, but it’s not what I ordered.

And so to the last song. All or nothing now. Play Cocaine Blues or I’ll rip you mercilessly in the review.
“Da dong-dong dong-dong dong-dong dong-dong dong dong dong dong, early one morning while makin’ the rounds, I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down…”

Nice. And let’s have more country music at Fuji Rock.