Monty and the Pythons
Real Thing
Python Records

by William Michael Smith

I put the hammer down, crank up my stereo
'Cause the airwaves now ain't got no country soul
When Nashville shifted gears, it brought tears to the eyes
Of this hard drivin' country kinda guy

When you're rolling tons of steel on through the night
You need your country real, not pasteurized
Why can't they keep the kid stuff on the far end of the dial
A man needs Hag when he's chewin' up the miles

Sounds like it comes straight out of the Texas neo-outlaw movement, doesn't it? It is always a pleasant surprise to discover that not all the country music in Nashville is that sappy, false-sentiment, over-dramatic mush that comes pouring out of the major record companies like Cream of Wheat boiling over on the stove. But folks who pay attention and look beyond the image that the country music industry and Nashville city fathers spoon-feed the public know there's a whole other scene in Nashville that is much like the Texas scene in its contrariness to the "public Nashville," to Clint Black's, Tim McGraw's, Faith Hill's shiny plastic Nashville music hyper-mall.

Monty and the Pythons remind me of acts like Dallas Wayne and The Derailers. They aren't "retro" in the sense that what they do is an ironic, eye-winking schtick, some kind of countrified Sha-Na-Na act, and they certainly aren't a rock band in disguise like so many of the uptempo country acts these days that all seem to use the same identical rhythm track. Rather like The Derailers and Dallas Wayne, Monty and the Pythons have got a monster jones for the way the music used to be, for the classic country hit formulas of old. To put it sweet and simple, Monty and the Pythons do hardcore jukebox honky tonk music. And they do it incredibly well. There is none of the it's-Ok-I've had-a-few-beers raggedness of some of our Texas rebels, no suspect pedestrian they-don't-know-the-difference songwriting, none of the "who cares if it's in tune just so the spirit is there" singing. No, these guys play it in tune, they sing it in tune, and it sounds like the real deal, just like the first time you heard Buck or Merle or Lefty and you knew without question or hesitation that what they were doing was the real country deal.

I had never heard of Monty and the Pythons ­ and if there is anything suspect about these boys it's that name ­ but they went rocketing up my list with a bullet with their opening track, a crisply done, soulful cover of Chip Taylor's "(Give Me The) Real Thing" that was a big underground hit "back in the day" when the cosmic cowboys first invaded Austin.

In fact, Monty and the Pythons sounded so damn good during the first few spins, I began to smell a ringer. I did a bit of research and discovered that Monty and the Pythons are not some gaggle of hopeful rookies even though Real Thing is their first CD. No, this record sounds like work worthy of a super group ­ and voila!, it is.

Drummer Jeff Hale played with Tony Joe White when White was the opening act for Buddy Holly and The Crickets. Touring with Holly, Hale met Waylon Jennings and later joined Jennings' Waylors, where he sat behind the drum kit for 14 years. He also toured with Tanya Tucker. Englishman Charlie Harrison has a resume as long as your arm. He's played bass with Rod Stewart, Spencer Davis Group, Roger McGuinn, Leo Sayer, Al Stewart, and was a longstanding member of the groundbreaking country rock band, Poco. He's also written a stream of rock and R'n'B hits, such as Stan Bush's "Crank That Radio." Lead guitarist Billy Hillman has toured with David Ball, Sara Evans, and Steve Holy, and has hired himself out to any number of left side of Nashville artists for recording dates, tours, and TV shows.

Monty Holmes sings and writes like he's a Texan ­ and that's exactly what he is. A Lubbock native whose father played fiddle, piano and guitar, Holmes formed a band then made the jump from Lubbock to Austin, where he had a regional hit with his "In The Arms Of A Beautiful Woman." He later moved to Nashville, where he became a publishing house songwriter. His tone-perfect baritone was soon noticed in Music City and he began to do regular demo work for numerous publishers. He struck pay dirt when George Strait recorded his "When Did You Stop Loving Me" and "I Know She Still Loves Me," both of which topped the country charts in 1994-1995. He also wrote the title track for John Michael Montgomery's million-selling What I Do The Best album. His "Never Again Again" became Lee Ann Womack's breakout single in 1997.

With Holmes' varied Texas connections, it is only natural that these "Tennessee boys" also cut themselves a chunk of the Texas thing with their slick, George Strait-ish "Texas State of Mind." Like Strait, they keep it simple and danceable, with guitarist Billy Hillman laying in some spare, clean, Bob Wills jazzy picking. The only thing missing from this one is the sound of boots sliding across the floor.

A beer that says Lonestar just seems to fit my hand
I can see for miles and miles from anywhere I am
Dallas, Pedernales, on down to San Antone
I'm always dreaming of a place I still call home

Texas is a state of mind
That I find me in most all the time
Tennessee's been good to me
But till the day I die
I'll be living in a Texas state of mind

Holmes is full of down home, common man, dollar-gobblin' jukebox friendly hooks. His scorching twanger, "Once You Sell Yourself Short," is filled with working class common sense. As the Pythons deliver it, the song has a Mel Tillis sound, but lyrically and musically this is exactly the type of song we all loved Waylon Jennings for, cut from the same cloth as "Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way," filled with salty, sagely advice for every musician and singer who ever dreamed of making it in Nashville.

Boy, if you got it in mind to sing the blues
If you want to see your name in lights you gotta pay your dues
It's a mighty big dream you're gonna be paying for
And it's hard to buy yourself back when you sell yourself short

Other beer joint jukebox tracks include the tongue-in-cheek "Keep My Mama Out of This" and "Hard Driving Country Kinda Guy." Holmes also scores big with stylish, stone-cold honky tonk ballads like "Has It Been That Bad For You?" and a cold-blooded cover of Lefty Frizzell's "I Can't Get Over You (To Save My Life)."

The only thing that separates Monty and the Pythons from the Texas neo-outlaws is the classic Nashville studio technique that the Pythons have employed. These guys play it tight and straight in the "we're making singles" sense that has always ruled the commercially conscious side of Nashville. There's no loose jamming; the songs sound very planned and calculated. Nothing is left to chance or accident. These guys aren't experimenting, they aren't stabbing in the dark for a "sound," aren't hoping things miraculously come together. I generally would find this to be an unforgivable negative, but Monty and the Pythons keep the music so honest and so faithful to the influences and the forebearers that it all works for me. There are moments when a track starts and you could almost make the mistake of saying, "That's a great oldie," only it's actually a Python's original.

Some folks may reject this CD out of hand for its affinity to the classic country sounds of yesterday. But I like it ­ a lot. Monty and the band do such a fine job on their originals and are so reverent with their handling of the excellent choice of covers, all I can hope is that on their next release they cover Chip Taylor's other underground classic, "Swear To God, Your Honor." I bet they nail it.

* It may not be breaking new ground, but it ain't pretending to either. Put a smile on your home jukebox's face with Monty and the Pythons' Real Thing. It really is.


Contact William Michael Smith at: wms-at-rockzilla.net

 
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