"It's some kind of a Texas Psychobilly Freakout, that's what it is," yelps Jim Heath, a.k.a. the Reverend Horton Heat, on his band's 1990 debut album, Smoke 'Em if You Got 'Em. They were the words that forever immortalized him and introduced the world to his unique brand of psychotic rockabilly punk. He was the Reverend who couldn't claim celibacy but preached universal acceptance and fun, sermonizing to the meat-eating masses while never failing to introduce you to his "wiggle stick." And now 12 years, four record labels and a pending lawsuit with Sub Pop (over withheld royalties) later, the Reverend continues to convert. The IDS Weekend caught up with Heath after a nasty storm in Vail, Colo., complicated the opening night of the band's cross-country stint in support of its upcoming album, Lucky 7 (Artemis). \nQ: Your tour began Feb.15, but I understand that the weather in Vail has been miserable. Did everything pan out okay?\nA: The storm slowed us down a little, but we made it. Two very fun shows.\nQ: Do you guys do anything special, mentally or physically, to prepare for going out on the road?\nA: Maybe rehearse… No.\nQ: The Reverend Horton Heat is a real touring machine. I read that you performed 220 shows in 2001. What keeps you guys going?\nA: I'm not sure how many shows exactly. When you have killed as many brain cells as me, the days kind of give you a fly-by. We just love to play music. \nQ: In 1990 you guys came out blazing with songs deeply steeped in the debauched history of rock and roll, some choice titles being "Love Whip," "Bags of Cocaine" and "Nurture My Pig." Plus, you were never afraid to throw in the bizarrely comical ("Eat Steak," "Big Dwarf Rodeo" and the like). Do you see yourself as having changed at all in the last 12 or 13 years?\nA: I still write comical songs and things. Our new album has the "Sermon On The Jimbo," then "You've Got A Friend In Jimbo." I think that since every song is different, and every album is different, then yes, I have changed. But I still enjoy the framework of what we do. So, there are certain things that are the same. \nQ:,/i> Lucky 7 has its share of car songs and I read that it almost became a concept record about your love of the automobile. What's your fascination with speed?\nA: Yeah, I was thinking of doing this hot-rod theme album, but that got a little limiting. But I've always had car songs, so it seemed OK to let some of those songs stay on the album. Girls, cars, drinking… it's a broken record with me.\nQ: You were on Sub Pop, then on Interscope, then back to Sub Pop, then Time Bomb and now Artemis. Is working with record labels a hassle?\nA: Well, it's been a tough couple of years for all that business. We kind of fly under the radar of all of that stuff, but most record companies have their hassles. You know, I've never really dealt with the labels directly. I'm glad of that, because I can do my work without any extra input from people who may not know what I know about what I do. I have to practice my guitar.\nQ: What's the wildest thing you guys ever did on tour, onstage or off?\nA: Now, c'mon. If I told you the wildest thing that I ever did, well… let's just say I've done some really dumb stuff. I used to do gigs at this place in Austin called the Hole In The Wall. I had a really long guitar cord and me and Jimbo (Wallace, bassist) and Jack, the first bass player, we'd go out into Guadalupe Street, lay down, bring the crowd with us and block up traffic playing some solos over stripper beats. The cops would always come. I try to forget the fights. It's easy to forget the drunks I've pulled.\nQ: So I hear that you're suing Sub Pop. What's the bad blood?\nA: I don't really want to talk about that, but I will say that, with whatever disputes, there is really no bad blood. I still appreciate the chance they gave us.\nQ: You have had your share of TV and movie appearances ("Love and A .45," "The Drew Carey Show"). But I've got to ask, what was it like seeing yourselves on "Beavis and Butthead" (back in the early '90s with "Psychobilly Freakout") and having those lovable cartoon characters utter the lines "I'll tell you what it is. It's a psychobilly freakout?"\nA: That was cool, very flattering and pretty good for our career at that time. One of the voices and writers on "King Of The Hill," Johnny Hardaway, lived in the apartment upstairs from Jimbo and I. One of my dreams is that we'll get on that show or "The Simpsons." Mike Judge of "Beavis and Butthead" lived and played in bands in Dallas. That's where we live. Could have been a little local sympathy there. \nQ: Lastly, what's so special about Texas? \nA: The best sunsets, the prettiest girls and the friendliest people. And some really great guitar players. I have to go practice my guitar so those Texas guitar slingers don't cut me up to little pieces. Thanks for the gig.\nThe Reverend Horton Heat crashes into Bloomington Monday at the Bluebird Nightclub.
Preaching to the Rockers
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