At some point in life, we must all cast our gaze toward the heavens and ponder life’s eternal mysteries… mysteries such as:
If The Dukes of Hazzard were to record an album -would it kick as much ass as I think it would?
You bet it would, cowboy!
After all, this is a show that delved deep into the complex social relationships that exist between the “good ol’ boys” native to the American bible belt, their sexually repressed cousins and totalitarian figures of authority.
So it should come as no surprise that The Dukes of Hazzard album is in fact nothing less than a compelling “rock-u-drama” that makes The Who’s, “Tommy” look like a pre-school choir play put together at the last minute by a drunken PTA mom who’s only goal in life is to vicariously relive her failed childhood through the barely audible murmurings of her daughter awkwardly pretending to sing “Joy to the World” in front of a gymnasium half full of disinterested parents on a Tuesday evening.
Anyway, for those of you who are cultural retards and may not be familiar with this epic milestone in the evolution of humankind, I give you….
The Dukes of Hazzard album!
Good Ol’ Boys
This is pretty much exactly like the intro that played before each show -but much longer! I mean, after all -how can you improve on a masterpiece? You can’t… and you should be ashamed of yourself for even considering the possibility. This is the freakin’ DUKES OF HAZZARD we are talking about people!
Pay close attention however, as this is where Boss Hogg sets the scene for the many layers of complexity that are about to unfold between our wayfaring cast of redneck miscreants and slack jawed, slope headed wonders of evolution.
You see, it seems we have arrived just as preparations are underway for “The Great Race” and Boss Hogg is a little concerned about the competition… particularly an Orange ’69 Charger driven by a pair of homo-erotic hillbilly cousins with wavy hair and manicured nails. You would think they could come up with a name a little more imaginative than “The Great Race” for such an important event… kinda like calling The Olympics, “A Buncha Sports” but hey, it’s a race and it’s great -so whatever.
Of course, Boss Hogg’s heartfelt lamentations serve as a perfect segue into The General Lee’s solo.
That’s right -The General Lee sings it’s own fucking song. How bad ass is that?
The General Lee
What’s more badass than a bright orange ’69 Charger with the doors inexplicably welded shut, a horn that plays perhaps the most racist song in history and a name from a man who led an army willing to kill for the right to own humans?
A bright orange ’69 Charger with the doors inexplicably welded shut, a horn that plays perhaps the most racist song in history, a name from a man who led an army willing to kill for the right to own humans and a singing voice like Johnny Cash -that’s what.
That’s right… somewhere between constantly evading arrest and death defying launches straight into the stratosphere, The General Lee found the time to stop, reflect and share it’s mechanical soul with us through the magic of song.
In the immortal words of The General, “I’m thunder on the highway lookin’ bad, bad, bad…”
Indeed, General Lee… aren’t we all…
If there is any song who’s lyrics are worthy of bedazzling on to your denim jean jacket -it is this one.
Laughing All The Way to The Bank
This is Boss Hogg’s song and let me tell you, it is exactly the genre bending masterpiece you would expect from an asthmatic corpulent midget prone to more laughing fits than a mental patient on mushrooms.
Be warned: under the right circumstances, this song can take you to a very dark place.
Of course Boss Hogg can’t sing, but neither can Kanye. Singing is for losers and little girls. A real BOSS simply raps about his money and power over a small southern town that might as well be located in a third world country while a handful of studio musicians force themselves to see all three chords of this soul sucking song through the fog of whiskey, tears and shame.
That’s right. What’s better than a country song? A country-rap song!
Up on Cripple Creek
At this point in the saga, Luke Duke serenades us with a version of “Up on Cripple Creek” for no apparent reason. This version of Robbie Robertson’s classic is so completely awful, I had to rinse my ears out with some Yoko Ono primal scream therapy recordings and Randy Newman records afterwards.
Once Luke finishes his song, Boss Hog admonishes Roscoe to “go get them Duke boys!” Why they waited until after Luke Duke commits his full frontal assault on all that is decent and good about music is a mystery to me, but this fact is soon erased by the gleefull coo-cooing sounds made by the hapless interloper, Roscoe -as he scoots his boots in the general direction of his redneck rivals.
Go git ‘em, Roscoe! I have complete faith you will bring these young ruffians to justice before your evening collapses into a mildly amusing comedy of errors!
Cover Girl Eyes
Let’s get real for a minute.
Daisy Duke was solely responsible for awakening my little boy penis and molding it into The Mighty Hammer of Thor that it is today… and for that -she deserves something. Maybe a medal or letter of recommendation or something… as long as it does not make reference to the fact that it was awarded for giving little boys everywhere awkward little boners in front of god, the family and the television set. A thing like that could get ugly fast.
So I guess she will have to settle for this song instead, “Cover Girl Eyes”… written by someone whom I am too lazy to Google and inexplicably sung by someone who appears to have no relation to the Duke family or television show at all.
What the fuck…? Can’t we at least give Cooter a song? This is exactly what’s wrong with this country.
Maybe this is just some lonely redneck soul, biding his down time at The Boar’s Nest and silently admiring Daisy from afar while she continuously plies him with watered down Budweisers before he stumbles out to his Ford pickup truck in a fugue state and runs it straight off a cliff, narrowly avoiding two overzealous cousins hooping and hollering their way through the canyon at break-neck speeds in a souped up ’69 Charger.
In The Driver’s Seat
Now we’re talking!
This song kicks ass! Right when you think the wheels are falling off this thing, here comes a song about havin’ one foot on the pedal and the law on your tail! … you know what I’m talking about… just you and your purty cousin, Beaureguard “Bo” Duke sittin’ shotgun… his wavy blond hair fluttering in the wind while his taut chest gently rises and falls beneath the soft folds of his plaid flannel shirt… you feel the General’s 426 Hemi throb beneath your white knuckle grip on the steering wheel when -in a moment of careless abandon, you gently press The General’s horn and thrill at the cute little “dixie” tune that issues forth…
… well… like that -but maybe not quite so gay.
After all, there is nothing gay or insinuated by a song called, “In the Driver’s Seat” about two inseparable young men who have no girlfriends and spend an inordinate amount of time alone together in a car in the backwoods of Georgia.
There’s nothing sweeter in this world than a love song… unless of course, it is a love song written by a drunken backwoods redneck with a third grade education and it is actually about his dog… then it’s just plain creepy… and that’s exactly what we have here. Roscoe loves Flash in a way that is perhaps unhealthy at best and immoral at worst.
I will leave that up to your imagination.
By the way -they called him, “Flash” because he was slow… get it!
Oh god, that cracks me up!
Down Home American Girl
It’s probably pretty creepy knowing that every thirteen year old boy in the universe wants to jab at you awkwardly with their tiny little peckers, so Daisy Duke takes this opportunity to inform us all that she is in fact, a “down home American girl”… which I guess means if you’re of legal age in Georgia, you’ll at least have to get her liquored up on a pint of Cinnamon Schnapps before she’ll suck you off in the backseat of her brother’s car.
The trick of course, is not getting so drunk you can’t climb in and out through the damn window… maybe welding those doors shut is actually starting to make some sense now.
Let’s get this race started already!
I mean, come on! There is WAAY too much character development happening here for an album which is merely an envelope meant to contain the wacky off road shenanigans of two habitual traffic offenders and a posse of mentally deficient policemen!
This is not really a song as much as it is a boot scootin’ hillbilly ho-down trainwreck complete with screeching tires, automobile crashes and Boss Hogg’s barely intelligible non-stop deranged ranting throughout.
I would tell you who wins “The Great Race” -but I don’t want to ruin the surprise of Bo and Luke Duke doing 5 to 10 for reckless driving, evading a law enforcement officer and possession of crystal methamphetamine.
Keep Between Them Ditches
The Great Race is over, the sun is setting behind the foothills of Georgia and The General Lee gently purrs beneath an oak tree somewhere deep within the canyons of Hazzard county… what further exploits await our careless adventurers? What could possibly follow the most mildly entertaining car chase of a lifetime?
This is exactly the question faced by the writers of The Dukes of Hazzard after the climax of each and every car chase came to it’s inevitable end. In this instance, after something as zany and unpredictable as The Duke boys in a race, it’s hard to imagine what new heights of genius the writers of this script could take the Duke boys to… but just when you thought they had exhausted all avenues of entertainment, someone steps up to the plate with a truly original idea -a car chase! After all, a car chase is a totally different thing than a car race! The possibilities are limitless, people!
Personally, I would have liked this song better if it were called, “Keep Between Them Ditches, Bitches!” but it serves it’s purpose… at least, I think it does. Actually, I haven’t listened to the thing… honestly, I lost interest about three songs ago.
The Ballad of the General Lee
Now that The General Lee has kicked some serious Boss Hogg ass and enjoyed a thorough hood buffing by the constant butt scooting of Bo and Duke as they leap to and fro from one side of the car to the other in their tight denim jeans -it’s time to learn a bit about the history of this great cultural icon.
And that’s exactly what this song provides… in fact, this song chronicles the “birth” of The General Lee in a manner that makes the birth of christ look like a back alley abortion, pouring over every detail yet somehow neglecting to mention why no one can get the damn doors open… really, kind of a major flaw in a car you need to get in and out of quickly considering all that running from the long arm of the law and stuff.
Them Good ‘Ol Boys Are Bad
… and finally, this song covers one of the great ironies in life. It’s really no surprise such an epic album would end on such a deep philosophical note as this.
This song addresses the timeless conundrum that despite their name -sometimes, them good old boys can be bad. This is confusing if not outright contradictory and something should be done about it before more young women fall in love with these rapscallions thinking they can change them only to discover what a hopeless waste of time their lives have become thirty years later when their own personal good ‘ol boy has a mid-life crisis which results in over sized novelty belt buckles and welding the doors to your Prius shut.
Hence, the need for songs like these.