No, I'm not above a little chest-thumping...
BAM Magazine, 2/12/99
FEATURE: Red Meat Is Rare and Well Done
by David John Farinella
(First appeared in BAM magazine, 2/12/99)
Jill Olson is breaking into a bit of an odd smile under her red felt
cowboy hat. She's leaning forward to watch Smelley Kelley, her Red Meat
bandmate, go up to the bar at the People's Cafe on Haight Street to order
his first ever latt*. For Smelley it's akin to a wholesale karmic shift in
his coffee culture awareness. "This is amazing," she confides in an amazed
whisper. A couple of minutes later Smelley's back at the table, latte in
hand. "I can identify one of them now, I've passed my latte identification
class," he says with a laugh. A few seconds later Scott Young, the band's
chief songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, sits down with his own double
espresso. Turns out that it's the quiet Scott (who even after a double
espresso is calm) who has acclimated a bit faster to the California
lifestyle.
While both Scott and Smelley come from the pig farming land of Keokuk,
Iowa-Smelley's term-the rest of Red Meat come from a variety of spots in
the United States, thus proving the point that anything that's a little
loose will eventually roll West. Bassist Olson is from Ottumwa, Iowa; Steve
Cornell, who adds pedal-steel guitar, is from New York; guitarist Michael
Montalto is from Ohio; and drummer Les James is a true Okie. "One of the
reasons we all moved here is that we're kind of weird in our hometowns,"
explains Olson. "I was, a lot," interjects Smelley.
Either way, they found themselves in San Francisco and started to play
in a number of local bands. From the Movie Stars to the Genuine Diamelles,
each band member was playing music that wasn't necessarily what they wanted
to do, which was country, honky tonk, western-or whatever you want to call
it. Of course, they had all known and admired each others work, but when
their respective band's broke up they knew it was time to do a country
band. "Me and Smelley were going to do a duet and I was thinking, 'Let's
have a city western band,'" explains Scott. "So, I wrote a bunch of songs
and then we booked our first gig. It was just the two of us, and Steve
Cornell, our old pedal-steel player said, 'Can I play with you guys?' We
said, 'Yeah, we're not worthy.'" Cornell, who knew Olson, then commented
out of the blue how great it would be if she could join them. The next day,
while Scott was at a local ATM he ran into Olson, and Red Meat was about to
be formed.
That was 1993 when San Francisco was still known for it's punk rock,
but the burgeoning band pushed on. They started out playing a handful of
originals from Scott's notebook, as well as some covers from some of their
musical heroes like George Jones, Johnny Paycheck, Stanley Brothers and
Buck Owens. Meet Red Meat, their debut album, came out in 1997 and was
written entirely by Scott. Their latest offering, 13, includes five Scott
originals as well as contributions by Cornell, Olson, Montalto and band
friend Chuck Poling, and a cover of Johnny Horton's "I'm a One Woman Man."
The album was produced by Dave Alvin, known for his own solo work and as
the man behind the Blasters. It's Scott, though, that seems to be the
creative force in the band. "The flavor of how Scott writes a honky-tonk
song and the way Scott spins a lyric that gives continuity between the
two," explains Smelley.
With a smile Scott explains his songwriting technique. "Sometimes when
I'm trying to write a song I make a list of topics. Trucking? Check.
Drinking? Check. Divorce? Check. I haven't done trains yet, but I've done
the dogs. That song is about whining dogs trying to get out of the house to
pee." Ah yes, classic country music fare. In fact, it's true that the band
has sung about everything from love to heartbreak ("The Heartache's On Me")
drinking to getting sober ("Teetotalin' Time"), and even a good old S&M
song titled "Baby Beats Me the Best."
Though Scott and Smelley split the lead singing duties, with Olson
adding backgrounds here and there, it's Smelley that gets to sing "Baby
Beats Me the Best." "I like to do a disclaimer in the beginning [of that
song] because it was written from a masochist standpoint and I've always
been a sadist," he reports. "So, I have to adjust the audience's mind
before I do it. I say, 'This is an acting job and I'll be done acting in a
second.'"
Where the band is not acting, however, is in their ultimate love and
respect for country music. While other bands have to constantly justify
their indie credibility, Red Meat have found themselves at times justifying
their choice in musical styles. "I think we feel that way because we're
from San Francisco and people think San Francisco is the home of all these
weird wacky bands," says Olson. "How can you be a country band in San
Francisco? But, we're all from other places."
"So, we got this indigenous music anyhow, might as well share it,"
Smelley adds. "People are going to check it out- I was always taught to
share when I was a little kid."
"That was deep, I'm glad we got that on tape," Olson counters.
"There's nothing to get frustrated about. The only people that question why
we would be a country band in San Francisco are music writers. They're the
only people that ask us that."
Fair enough, considering the band has fought for and won an impressive
local following. They've also fought through the perception that people
don't like country music. "If you come up and talk to me and tell me about
how much you hate country music before the show I'm liable to just haul
off and offer you a money-back guarantee," Smelley says. "Now as far as
giving an across the board money-back guarantee, I could get run dry by
smartasses, but if somebody's genuine I'll take 'em up on it. I'll put my
money behind it-hell, I put my time behind it."
© 1999 David John Farinella
