Thursday, December 08, 2005

DBT Lyric Pictures - Box of Spiders

While visiting the family over Thanksgiving I took some time to go out and about in the greater Florence\Shoals area and snapped some photos of the landmarks DBT references in the lyrics of their songs.

When I first started to listen to DBT I had recently moved to San Francisco and was struggling with the "duality" of my own Southern thang. I wasn't exactly capable of being "proud of the glory" and was having some issues "staring down the shame". I was hesitant to even tell people I came from Alabama due to their reaction. Example: An Alabamian upon meeting someone from San Francisco for the first time might assume the San Franciscan is gay while a San Franciscan upon meeting an Alabamian for the first time might assume the Alabamaian is a racist. Neither labels fits me and we all know what happens when one ass-u-me(s). Never-the-less, DBT came along and gave me a voice and a reason to be proud of the glory of the artistry that comes out of the south and particularly The Shoals area in the Northwest corner of Alabama. DBT was singing songs about MY southland, the landmarks I grew up with, the highways I barrelled down drunk with bourbon and youth, the neighborhood yards I cut for pocket money in the summers, the factories that employed my family and put food on my table, the water-way that allowed me to grow up with a "Huck Finn" childhood.

DBT's ability to tell the other side of the story and to tell that there are "a lot of good folks down here" while acknowledging the "bad shit that went down" has been a huge influence on who I am and the way I represent the South while living outside the South. Progessive individuals do exist in the South and their voices are often the most informed. That's why the only Democrat who can win the presidency is a Southern governor.

Since I'm doing a little bit of preaching in this post it is fitting that I present to you my first DBT Lyrics Picture tour. From Patterson's "Box of Spider's:

The Stone Point Church of Christ

My great-grandmothers bout ninety-seven
and she is sure when she gets to heaven,
old St. Peter's gonna throw his arms around her and say
'I've waited so long for us to meet'.
She put the General in a box
and buried him behind the Stoney Point Church of Christ,
when I was three.

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