Manifesto

Dr. X posts this from the Tanglewood Institute, where he is working on his new book, Semi-Erotic: Junior Brown and the Priapic Imperative:

What are we to make of We're an American Band, one of the many guilty pleasures of early 70s arena rock? Slickly produced by Todd Rundgren, it came out on a gold-colored single, and sounded like this.

According to Wikipedia, "a popular take on the band during its heyday was that, although the critics hated them audiences loved them." From this distance it is hard to see what the hell the critics were complaining about. Unfortunate wardrobe choices notwithstanding, there is nothing lacking in this live performance from 1974. It's powerful, musical, and, er, also powerful. A quarter century later, they played it at a Bosnian relief concert - a little less melodically perhaps, but still quite...powerful.

Although it breaks no new musical ground, We're an American Band is thematically somewhat tangled. In my reading, it is simultaneously all of the following:

• As the first song on the band's breakthrough album, it must be read as a founding statement of identity and intention. Like The MC5's Kick Out the Jams, it favorably compares American rock to its self-indulgent British counterpart. The proximate target in this case is the very capable Humble Pie, Grand Funk's co-attraction on an early tour. The song was reportedly written after a late night argument between the two bands.
• There is nothing overtly sophisticated about it. Apropos of the band's Flint, Michigan beginnings, it expresses midwest working class aesthetics. In its celebration of straight-ahead power, it is the musical equivalent of the Dodge Charger, the I formation, or the missionary position.
• The song casts the band as Dionysian servants of the audience (in the hedonistic sense, not the cthonic): "we're comin' to your town / we'll help you party it down", an explicit repudiation of Rand's contention that emotions are not tools of cognition.
• It states the band's blues credentials via references to guitarist Freddie King. We don't know if Dave Marsh was impressed by this. The fossil record is ambiguous.
• There is another blues connection: in its celebration of the band's sexual exploits in Arkansas and Nebraska, it picks up a thread dating back at least to the hokum songs of the 30s.
• Its autobiographical narrative invokes a rock confessional tradition that oddly parallels Seger's contemperaneous Turn the Page (what is it with Michigan rockers and Omaha?). The episodic focus and hard rock treatment are also reminiscent of Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water.
• The song eschews the fantasy elements that were gradually infiltrating and subverting rock. Grand Funk Railroad doesn't care if there's a bustle in your hedgerow.

Most covers of We're an American Band are disastrously bad. We will not be linking to Bon Jovi or Poison.

If you wish to cover We're an American Band you have just one chance: play it dead straight, and play it well. Working class affectations aside, the original arrangement is excellent and carefully balanced. Moreover, the song does not admit irony, subversion, inversion, deconstruction, or any other type of artistic posing. The song is already a pose - it is the Charles Atlas pose of rock, and you either look good doing it or not.

The L.A. power pop band Autograph delivered one of the better covers of the song, with a march drum intro and some slight changes to the lyrics. Boston punkers The F.U.s delivered a speed version, and it too is enjoyable.

But if there were any question in your mind about the relevance of We're an American Band to a sophisticated modern audience, I would draw your attention to this performance by Phish (another clip here). Note the crowd reaction when they hit the chorus at 1:50 ("oh it's that song!"). Full marks to Phish for skipping the nods and winks, and successfully elaborating on the song's more melodic aspects. As usual, Anastasio's guitar solo is particularly fine.

Man, look at the smoke in that place. I had always thought of We're an American Band as more of a whiskey tune than a marijuana tune, but it makes you realize the Grateful Dead could have done a fine job with it, too. In the right hands, the possibilities are limitless.