Not Fizzling Out

I've listened to a wide array of music styles and genres for a very long time. Clearly. Clearly. Clearly. Makes me happy and rarely bored with music.

If I had to pick one subcategory of rock and roll that's occupied my listening choices for the best part of my last 25 years, though, the somewhat abandoned moniker of "alt-country" (or alt.country for the geekiest among you) probably wins the day.  From Uncle Tupleo (of course) through decades of Wilco and less of SonVolt, to our beloved revolutionary sweethearts the Old 97's to the Jayhawks and Ryan Adams, and hell, the Avetts and Drive-By Truckers are pretty much alt-country, and hell, Sturgill and Isbell and Jenny Lewis and even the Cowboy Junkies, and even Neko Case sometimes, and . . .you get it. A lot of stuff I like.

A band I only sorta tuned into along the way was the Bottle Rockets, one o' them outfits that's equal parts Missouri and Misery. I knew and loved the songs "1000 Dollar Car" and "Indianapolis" and a handful of tunes off their first three albums. Our fratre Ethan/Herb got me into Bloodshot Records and artists on that label for a brief spell. Plus, I am partial to bottle rockets. You know, since I was suspended in 1985 for igniting one inside the school hall.

Oh, and the Bottle Rockets did an album called Songs of Sahm as a tribute to Doug Sahm and the Sir Douglas Quintet, whom Z gave some adulation.

They are quite     good.  Or . . . they were.

On social media as of yesterday:

It’s with a sad heart that we announce this uneasy news: Brian has decided to retire from the Bottle Rockets. Although he’s in good health, he’s been feeling the passage of time and has lost interest in anything that distracts from or takes him away from home. Unfortunately, this means the Bottle Rockets can’t continue as we know it. This is a difficult and emotional outcome for the band, and we share the sense of loss over this ending, but it can also be framed as an opportunity for new directions.

We appreciate our fans, many who have become dear friends over the years, and we thank you for the wonderful 28-year adventure. It was a thrill and we couldn’t have asked for better people to share it with! We sincerely couldn't have done it without your loyal support -- the music lives on through you.

Forever Grateful,

The Bottle Rockets

Message from Bottle Rockets singer Brian Henneman...

Well friends, it’s time. Time to say “so long”. I’m givin’ it up. Packin’ it in. Retiring. I’m done. Been thinkin’ about it this entire time off. I’m more certain of it than anything I’ve ever been certain of before. I’m turning 60 this year. Including my time with Uncle Tupelo, I have been doing this recording/touring thing for 30 years. I don’t consider myself too old to do it anymore, but I do consider myself too old to want to.

Every musician has their own shelf life for doing what they do. Some go on into their 80’s, some quit in their 20’s and never look back. Ol’ Number 60, that’s me. 60 o’clock, that’s quittin’ time for this guy. Kickin’ off my travelin’ shoes and slippin’ on my house shoes. Home is where my passion lies these days. That excites me now the way the band used to.

I have no problem at all with the band. That’s not why I’m leaving. It’s all about where I’m at on the walk of life. I no longer want to travel, don’t really have any burning desire to write songs anymore either. I just want to be a good husband. A good neighbor. A responsible homeowner. A little dog’s daddy. A guitar repairman. A guitar player in my kitchen, and in some local country cover band whenever that scene comes back around. That’s how I want to spend the rest of my days. I want to be home for supper and home for bedtime. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. I want to experience a “normal life” just as badly now as I did NOT want to in my youth. While I’m still healthy enough to enjoy it. Before I get ancient and impaired. Things change. That’s life. I’m ready and eager for change. Being home for a solid year made me certain of it. I don’t want to miss ANYTHING here anymore.

Mark, John, and Keith all understand where I’m at. That’s such a relief. But they’re damn good guys. The best. Those guys have been the greatest partners a man could ever have. Dedication. Devotion. Turnin’ all the night time into the day. No tellin’ what’s next for them, but knowin’ them like I do, I’d say the sky’s the limit. They all have the musical skills to do anything. A truly “hot shit” band. And, unlike me, they still have the desire to get out there and do it. And they are ULTRA professionals. Keep an eye out for ‘em. I wouldn’t be one bit surprised to see them show up in phenomenal places. I am rooting for them. Them’s my boys. My team. My life partners. Please support them. I know I will. They are the longest running members the band ever had for a reason. They’re the best on so many levels. I love them forever.

Gotta salute Robert Kearns, Tom Parr, and Tom Ray too. All were members of the band I’m bidding farewell to. Everybody did a great job in their own time, in their own way. Everybody.

I gotta be honest, I’m not sad that this is really finally happening. It was bound to happen someday. What does make me kinda sad is that it’s already that day. WTF??? Where did that time go??? See? That’s my point. That’s what made me go through with this. Knowing how the time goes SO fast. I wanna get goin’ on this next phase, before it passes me by as fast as everything else did. I’ve finally reached an age where things get urgent. Available decades are gettin’ slim. Gotta find what you REALLY want and go for it. So I did.

I want to sincerely thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You all supported us for so long. I will never forget that, or take it lightly. I am forever humbled and grateful. It’s been fun, but now it’s done. Surprise ending, yes. But the band had a surprise beginning too, so it seems that’s just how we roll. Maybe the band’s not done at all. Who knows? I just know I won’t be in it. ‘Cause I’m done.

With a year off, and nothing on the books, this was the perfect intersection of time and timing. There would never be a time when leaving would disrupt less. That’s why I did it now. Didn’t wanna make a big deal outta my big deal. Wanted it to be as painless as possible.

So this is where the cowboy rides away. Goodnight now ladies and gentlemen. It’s the end of the show, now it’s time to go.

Maybe I’ll see ya at Home Depot or somethin’…

Brian

Wel'p... that about says it all. I gotta tip my cap to the guy. "On his terms" could not be a more fitting way to say it. Here's hoping that when you eventually hang 'em up, you are as at peace as he is.

Cheers.

Alas poor Roddick, we knew him Horatio

The 2012 US Open will be Andy Roddick's last tournament, and although we've talked about Roddick here before, his retirement deserves a post of its own.

Through no fault of his own, Roddick made professional tennis his vocation at possibly the worst time in the history of the game, namely Roger Federer's prime. You know how good Federer is, but you might not know that Federer played Roddick twenty-six times since 2001. Roddick only won four of those matches, going oh-for-eight in majors. Four of those majors were finals -- three at Wimbledon and one at Flushing Meadows. Three were semi-final matches -- two Australians and one Wimbledon. The eighth was a quarterfinal match at the US Open. The point of all this? Roddick probably would have won two or three more majors if Federer decided to stay in Switzerland and make milk chocolate or hide illegally obtained money in neutrally located banks.

Roddick "only" won one major title, the 2003 US Open, right before Federer went on a decade-long reign of domination. As a result, we (or at least I) tend to think of Roddick as a bit over-rated. No one thinks he is as good as Sampras and Agassi, rightfully so, but I oddly think much more highly of Pat Rafter. I say oddly because ... go compare Rafter and Roddick, I'll wait.

Roddick won three times as many tournaments and twice as much money. He was ousted in the semi-final round in five majors compared to Rafter's three. Roddick was knocked out in the quarters in nine times to Rafter's zero. Roddick is 128-44 in major play while Rafter went 76-33. Both were ranked #1 at some point. The big differnce in Rafter's favor: he was 2-2 in major finals while Roddick went 1-4. But Rafter's two wins came against Greg Rusedski and Mark Phillipoussis, not exactly players of Federer's caliber. So why is my view so skewed?

(Note that I refuse to pander to the lowest common denominator, i.e., Teedge, and I will not engage in a head-to-head comparison of their wives. You know who Roddick married. Do a Google image search and you'll find that Rafter did pretty well too.)

Probably because I feel like Roddick could have done more. His game is perfect for fast surfaces. Watch him play and adjectives like violent, belligerent, compact, brutal will bubble up in your mind.

His forehand is an uppercut that would make Mike Tyson proud. Coaches teach you to twist at the waist and bring the racquet back with both hands. You're supposed to keep your shoulders level throughout and use your legs to adjust to the height of the ball.

Here's how Federer hits a forehand:



Textbook. Nadal is similar:



Roddick doesn't do that. Instead, he drops his right shoulder so that it's aligned somewhere around his left nipple, then whips everything north of his nutsack through the ball, winding up with both shoulders about parallel. Here's Roddick taking practice forehands.



Here's one in-game.



That's some pugilistic shit, right? Compare:



(We need more Tyson videos around here. I imagine Mark sitting at his computer, moving his head in vertical approval.)

Roddick's serve is a mechanistic marvel. There is no extraneous motion. His swing is so remarkably compact, in fact, that it's irreconcilable with the amount of power he generates. When seen in real-time speed it looks like he doesn't even pull the racquet back -- as he tosses he cocks the racquet straight up and then, instantly, put it through the ball. But viewed in slow-mo the truth becomes apparent. He really does bring the racquet back, if only for an imperceptible period of time, before snapping through. I have no idea how he does this so fast. The slow-mo starts around 1:16:



This allowed him to hit the rudest serve ever.



The best comparison I can make is Billy Wagner's throwing motion. No idea how he gets so much ehat from so little motion.



So Roddick has a ton of physical gifts and, as a result, I failed to cut him the proper slack he deserved in light of his competition. And he wore visors. I have a perhaps irrational disdain for men who wear visors. He can also be a bit of a dick, which doesn't help:



Roddick's jackass sense of humor provides a little redemption. Here he mocks Nadal:



This sense of humor carried him through a decade of woodsheddings by Federer. Watch until the end and you'll see what I mean:



But all of this was false bravado. Nothing sums up who Roddick really is better than this:



After losing to Federer for the fourth consecutive time in a major, with the scoreboard showing 14-16 in the 5th set to add extra salt to the wound, tears in his eyes because he knew he was so close and because he probably knew he would lose and because he definitely heard his window on winning another major slam shut, he interrupted Federer's gentlemanly "good game" speech to call bullshit on the guy who tormented him professionally for years, to tool on his graciousness and smooth propriety, to let everyone know that he respected and despised Federer at the same time, and to remind us that he was simply born at the wrong time to be a tennis player. It wasn't until this crack in Roddick's smug facade that we saw who he really is and what he really wanted to be but simply could not. I wish he showed this sooner.

So I hope you watched as much of Roddick as you could this fortnight, because you won't find anyone on the pro tour who combines his ferocity and charisma, possibly ever again.