Years ago, back when I raced bicycles as an amateur, I soon learned that any edge you could get on your competition should be exploited. My secret weapon was bullshit. I would show up for training rides or races, complaining about the soreness in my knees, my stiff back or lack of sleep the night before. Well, this worked a couple of times, and I was able to catch my opponents off guard for a solo breakaway. It didn't take long, however, for my secret to be discovered and then nobody ever believed me again. My friends once rode away as I sat on the curb, writhing in pain that was as real as a heart attack. I was recently duped by The REDNECK ROLEMODELS in much the same manner. Steve Volponi, drummer for the band, must have read the same book as I.

"I cut my finger last week, so I don't know how well I'll be able to play, says he. "We haven't done any gigs in five months. We're working on a new record," he informs me. "We never get to rehearse together, because the band live on opposite sides of the country," he whines. "Jesus, it's hot in here!" Well, he was right about that. MOLLY MALONE'S, located on Fairfax in L.A., was hotter than blazes that night. It's actually a nice place, in a gritty, dark and decrepit way, but its separate bandroom would be better suited for an old bluesman who really is blind or an English punk rock band who's lyrics are as incoherent as their music. It's the kind of place where Jim Morrison or Hemmingway might have frequented.

But the Redneck Rolemodels were here to perform, and perform they did. After a hilarious introduction, they burst into an eleven song set that had this writer stamping his feet to the rhythm of Southern Rock and glad that he didn't stay home to watch reruns of Will and Grace. Their music is diverse, ranging from country comedy tunes similar to THE KENTUCKY HEADHUNTERS or LITTLE FEAT to mellow, feel good sounds like THE GRATEFUL DEAD to some serious, introspective tunes about lost love, lost money and hard times.
They can keep the momentum going with hot licks or slow things down with a ballad. They even switched to acccustic guitars which had an easy, bluegrass sound.

For a band that never gets to rehearse or gig together, their stage presense was amazing. Rich Logan, who sings like a combination of John Mellencamp without the cheese and COUNTING CROWS' Adam Duritz without the whine, knew how to take that important step to the side to spotlight John Perez's stunning guitar solos. Bass player Jeff Stella moved to the other side of the stage when Rich put down his rhythm guitar to play the piano. The members of the band were always visible, with the focus always on the member that was being featured. This seems like a small thing, but there are many, many bands who should practice these moves. It is interesting to note that, while their segways were hilarious and irreverent, they were totally serious, totally focused as they performed their music.

But let's cut the bullshit. The reality is that this is one hell of an ass kicking band that can turn a hot Thursday night in a dark bar into a party. Until this band gets around to some serious gigging, maybe in your town, you can read their CD review in this month's issue of SOUTHBOUND BEAT Magazine. You can even purchase it on MP3. And that's no bullshit!

Website; http://www.mp3.com/redneckrolemodels

Review by Pat Benny