The lyricist without a clue; the freight-trainer; the
all-out anarchist. I don’t know much about him personally, but fuck it. His
music testifies that he’s a character. The lyrics show that you can’t have
wrong words for a song, while simultaneously being so deep and meaningful that
I might just tear up. Smoking, drinking, acid, freight-trains and guitar are
his best friends, with his lyrics truly conveying it. Favourite tracks have got
to be, in no particular order:
Whiskey Is My Kind of Lullaby
Probably my favourite track, if not my favourite song ever.
The lyrics are genius, in Hobo’s satirical comedic manner. Rather than a jolly
shindig, it’s a statement of depression, and word around is he won’t play these
songs due to the sad memories they dig up. There’s two versions of the song,
and although the one here features the absence of the brass section, I do
prefer it. The raw energy he conveys with the guitar and characteristic
screaming really comes through.
DIY Orgasms
Consisting of some of the best lyrics one might ever here,
again with his iconic shouting/singing, it shows a painting of a stupid society
he’s watching. In the parking lot with a forty ounce and watching people, it’s
a depression picture. Gotta love “I’m contemplating rope but can’t tie knots
that great”, I always have a dark laugh at that line. A strange look at the
world, only Hobo could convey such a theme with such a comedic depression.
DIY Gangsta (T.R.E.A.M.)
A faster one than usual, from the Wingnut Dishwashers Union
days, it’s a bit more uplifting than one may be used to. I was surprised first
time I heard it when it kicks into Hobo’s rendition of CREAM by Wu-Tang,
fittingly remade into “Trash rules everything around me, TREAM coz I’m hungry,
gotta gotta eat y’all”. Again, the light-hearted grim reality he lives is
portrayed in only a way he himself can achieve. It’s catchy, and that voice
just infects. Another take on society and her bleak atmosphere, it’s easy to
appreciate Hobo’s ability as a lyricist.
Ain’t Nobody’s Business
This one always reminds me of Metallica’s rendition of
Tuesday’s Gone by Skynyrd. The free flow of words and music swirl around with
each member having a little bit of a verse to themselves, be it a line or two,
and it sounds like one big jam session. Quite nice to hear it, as you do get
fed up with rigidity. The fact that it sounds like it’s recorded through a
single floor microphone adds to the atmosphere. The others can’t sing that
great though but fuck it, that’s what it’s about.
New Mexico
Another classic about roaming around life unwanted, and
rejection of the state. The grim, bleak, downer that is Johnny Hobo shines through
with a grey light on this track. Spitting out his lyrics, there’s fuck-ups here
and there that will have you falling in love with his singing. Getting too
drunk and smoking too much, he’s headed for an early grave and can’t wait for
it. Friends are gone and time is short. There’s no place like home, especially
when there’s no home. His lifestyle has even penetrated his dreams, where he’s
“beautiful, dirty broke and free.” Gotta love him.
If you like it, check Cranford Nix and Mischief Brew. Likeminded
revolutionaries.
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