<< Back 12/4/02 A rollicking Southern revival hits Asheville By Jay Hardwig When I heard Southern Culture on the Skids was coming to the Orange Peel, I did what any self-respecting music journalist would do: I e-mailed their manager and asked for some swag. I didn’t need glamour shots, I added helpfully, but a fresh hot CD might be nice. I hadn’t heard the band since the glory days of “Dirt Track Date.” The response I got was cordial but direct: “The band is between labels at the moment,” wrote David T. Viecelli, SCOTS current press agent, “and cannot afford to buy CDs at $10 a pop from [former label] TVT in order to service press at this time.” Can’t service me? Last time I heard that line, it was in a Mexican border town, but no matter: I don’t need to hear Southern Culture on the Skids’ Y2K release “Liquored Up and Lacquered Down” to tell you, with some confidence, that it’s a swampabilly surftone gutbucket goofball Southern rock-n-shotgun two-hoots barnburner in a can. Why so sure? For starters, there’s SCOTS underground rep as a traveling guitar-and-fried-chicken hootenanny, a Carolina country-roots-rock-and-such carnival that has burned their way through the South with all of Sherman’s determination, and better basslines besides. Second, there’s SCOTS recorded history, including 1995’s breakout “Dirt Track Date,” as rough-and-tumble a bag of wiseass Southern reverb as you’re likely to find. Third, there’s a few choice audio clips at the band’s hip website (www.scots.com) and a link to lyrics extolling such timeless virtues as hairspray, corn liquor, and being drunk and lonesome once again. Fourth, frontman Rick Miller’s online tour diary boasts boogers-in-the-box, an elegy to a dog named Peanut, and an extended discussion of the health impact of a pack-a-day potato chip habit. Anyone knocking down the chips like that can’t be weak in the rock-n-roll knees, I figure. Hell, it’s all got me so excited I might just have to put some cold cash on the barrelhead and bring this one home the honest way. If you’re not so sure, check out their show at the Orange Peel and decide for yourself. The Chapel Hill natives are in the middle of a stretch of touring that’s run for about, oh, 10 years for now. Just a month ago they were playing Spain. That’s in Europe, man. Friday’s date finds them close to home, where firecrackers, parole, and moonshine still mean something, dammit. My recommendation? Liquor up, lacquer up, and get yourself serviced. You deserve as much. (Jay Hardwig can be reached at smardwig@charter.net)