Music Reviews

John Hult

With the strap hooked to his hefty Gretch acoustic/electric tugging on his trademark flame-laden black suit and a boppy spring in the steps of his gleaming white leather shoes, The Reverend Horton Heat a.k.a, Jim Heath, seems, upon first glance, a throwback to a former era. Indeed, the Jerry Lee Lewis look alike has more in common with Elvis and Mr. Great Balls of Fire than the growling punk rockers and bohemian poetry buffs that make up his fan base. He even has that southern drawl.

However, Horton gets away with his chain-smoking, hot rod adoration because he carries the devil may-care attitude of a post punk nihilist in tow as surely as his Texas-bred rockabilly spirit.

And that is precisely how he and his band mates have made the style their own and managed to remain the only relevant American artists in the rockabilly genre. The broadening of cultural brushstrokes in the nearly 50 years since Elvis was “All Shook Up” has forced us to recognize the cliche

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