Which Doobie You Be?
From biker bars to yacht rock, Jesus was there.
What red-blooded American male doesn’t want a pretty mama to take him by the hand?
Jeff Baxter sat with his ass perched on a stool for the entire concert and played like a motherfucker.
Rock ‘n’ roll is not a thing anymore. Maybe Jesus isn’t a thing, either. If you were to step up your game and insert Jesus into your music with faithful, distorted-guitar energy, and dare to claim that Jesus is your friend, it’s hard to imagine that your efforts would make a dent in the culture. Yet there was a time when this two-pronged attack could elevate a band into the limelight (and no, the recent acclaim for “Geese” doesn’t count in my book). There once was a time when you could wear a leather jacket and turn your amps up loud in biker bars, and not a soul in the grimy, tattooed, drunken crowd would raise an objection or toss empty beer bottles in your direction when you claimed that Jesus is alright. My three teenage daughters aren’t exactly heathens, and they love rock ‘n’ roll. I’m fairly certain that they haven’t met any bikers of the well-worn-leather-jacket variety — the guys who ride choppers and let their greasy beards flap in the wind. It would be an eye opener to drop …
