The Bottle Rockets: New Album, New Tour, and a Grouchy Old Dog

During his time as roadie, guitar technician, and second guitarist with Uncle Tupelo, Brian Henneman honed his craft from watching the masters.  But he eventually flew the coop to form his own band, and went on to become the Bottle Rockets‘ frontman. Since then, for over 20 years, the Bottle Rockets have been gifting us with their own brand of straight-from-the-hip, voice-of-the-common-people Southern rock and roll, and rip-roaring punk-roots classics.  

From “1000 Dollar Car” (It ain’t worth shit/ Might as well take your thousand dollars / and set fire to it”), to “Zoysia” (“Got lots of churches, we’ve got lots of bars/And the kids round here, they fight our wars), they’ve been pointing out the angry fat man on the radio, and they’ve been describing those ol’ love feelings in words true to the ordinary blokes of this world, for all those years.

“Keepin’ it real, Yo…” Henneman responded when I asked him how he and his bandmates have managed to maintain their loyal belief in the band for so long. “Writing about what we know,” was fellow founding band member, Mark Ortmann’s response. On October 2, they will be releasing their 12th album, South Broadway Athletic Club, where that principle continues. 

Good examples would be the tracks “Monday (Everytime I Turn Around)” and “Big Fat Nuthin’,” which revolve around work, the routine, the monotony, the way it can dry you out and leave nothing spare in you. So I was curious – after all these years of speaking for and to the little guy, do today’s times and issues add to the spirit in their songs? “Only through osmosis,” Henneman explained. “We try not to make an issue out of issues. There are people in this world better suited for that sorta thing. We just try to make songs we like to play and sing. I guess we speak to the little guy, ’cause we’re little guys speaking. We have our finger on the pulse of the little guy, ’cause we’re little guys ourselves. Just speakin’ from our corner of the room.

“It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he continued, “and nothin’ to romanticise, just natural, day to day stuff. We don’t write fiction. Or pretend to be somethin’ we’re not. Because of that, people seem to relate to it. They recognize themselves in the stories we tell, ’cause our stories are not much different from anybody else’s. We just maybe have a little more skill at makin’ ’em rhyme over some folks…”

Ortmann agreed. “Regardless of the times and issues, there will always be ‘a little guy’. It’s a universal and timeless subject that people relate to, but what this really comes down to is that the band writes about what we know — we happen to know that little guy.”

All that being said, are there times that their jobs in the Bottle Rockets leave them feeling dried out with nothing left spare?  “Only if we’ve been on the road too long, then the whole thing feels like that,” replied Henneman.  “But then I remember it beats roofin’, and it gets me a second wind to make it to the finish line. Any work-related drag in this band is a very temporary thing.”

“Like any job, there are times when our job in the music business can become a grind,” Ortmann added. “It often looks more glamorous from the outside than it really is on the inside. But even with all the industry nonsense that gets in the way, we recognize and appreciate that playing music is more enjoyable than digging ditches for a living. Not only does the band write about what we know, but also about who we know.”

They’re in synchronicity, Henneman and Ortmann. A solid team. They have been for more than two decades, despite various line-up changes with the band, and this made me wonder. The track “Big Lotsa Love” is about being together for a long time, surviving the bad and enjoying the good. Could this be applied to the Ortmann/ Henneman partnership as much as it honors long-term coupledom?  ”Absolutely,” agreed Henneman. “We’re more married than a whole lot of married couples.”

His other half concurred. “Yep, this is the longest relationship I’ve been in. Does that mean we’re legally married by common law and I get half of Brian’s publishing?” Funny enough, I wasn’t party to the answer to that question, so I’ll move swiftly on to another type of relationship. There’s a track “Dog” on the new album.

I love my dog, he’s my dog
If you don’t love my dog, that’s OK
I don’t want you to, he’s my dog.

Catchy as hell, you’ll be singing it after first listen too. I wanted to know if there really was a dog, or is it purely symbolic for just keeping things simple. “He’s my dog, Rocco,” replied Henneman. “Chihuahua mixed with somethin’ that made him bigger. Basically a 17-pound Chihuahua. Typical Chihuahua temperament. Cute, but grouchy.”                                                                        

There’s also “Ship It on the Frisco”, which Henneman described as “a  Southern soul-influenced song about childhood train hopping.” He wrote it about “something me and a friend did as a kid. The St. Louis & San Francisco [Frisco] railroad line ran through our hometown. Their slogan, “Ship It on the Frisco,” was painted on boxcars and whatnot. We’d hop the train while it was pullin’ outta the glass factory, and ride it about three miles down to the river where we’d jump off, and walk the tracks back. Our code name for that activity was to ‘Ship It on the Frisco’. We did it because we were kids. And it was exciting. And it didn’t cost nothin’.”

As for the album’s title, South Broadway Athletic Club just seemed to fall into place. “We had no title for this album. Couldn’t think of anything that fitted. We were taking promo photos and took some in front of the SBAC. We saw the photos, and saw the title. It sounded like an album title, it looked like an album title, and everybody liked it. It is a south St. Louis fixture, and this is the first album we ever recorded in St. Louis. South St. Louis to be exact, not far from the SBAC. It fits. Plus, none of the songs on this album have an actual ‘location’ to them. They’re not about actual ‘places’. The great bonus was that it pinned the tail on the geographical donkey.”                                                     

For the rest of 2015 and into next year though, that geographical donkey will be droving its wares on tour with the new album. There will also be, as Henneman puts it, “some more shows with Marshall Crenshaw, and who knows what else.” As Ortmann points out, working with Crenshaw has had its ups and downs. “An earthquake hit Napa, California, a day and half before we were to play there with Marshall. When we arrived, buildings were fenced off and wrapped in caution tape, and earthquake hazmat trailers were parked in the streets. But the show still went on, and lots of wine makes everything better.”

It’s not just regular venues the Bottle Rockets play. They are also keen advocates of house concerts and would perform quite a few in any given year.  “They’re great” said Henneman. “Intimate setting. No microphones. Just acoustic instruments.  Singin’ into the great wide open. What you hear is what’s comin’ off our instruments, and outta our mouths. If you can’t hear, you gotta shut up. Which people do. Undivided attention. We never use a setlist, all audience requests. Completely interactive. Super fun for us, super fun for the audience. No two shows are alike. We’ve never done a bad one. They’re always fun.”

Before you start organising one though, take Henneman’s sage advice. “If you wanna host one, research house concerts first. Make sure it’s something you’re willing to open your house to. Make sure everyone in your family is in agreement on the idea. Don’t try to sneak it past a spouse who isn’t into it.”

I’m keen to hear from anyone who has tried to sneak the Bottle Rockets past a spouse who isn’t into them.

Photo credit: Horiz Todd Fox,
Video credits: MUSIC in ATLANTA, redmags, Acoustic Asheville