Anybody steeped in a certain subculture has to endure time when they are not among others of their own species.  “Civilians”, I call them.  Be it punk, goth, rockabilly, psychobilly, emo, or electro-whatever.  This time spent in the midst of civilians can be exhilarating.  The dissonance your individuality causes can be something that defines your boundaries with the rest of the world.  Saying what you aren’t can define what you are.  But, time spent among your kind is a whole other kind of experience entirely.

Transport yourself to Oak Canyon Ranch on July 4th for the Hootenanny and you’re suddenly on Planet Rockabilly.  No hair was to greasy, no sled too low, no pin-up too cheese-cake, no cuffs too big.  Everyone there understood your gig; there was no need for explanation.  Rows of vendors in tents were selling all kinds of doo-dads you’d be more than happy to accept from mom as a Christmas gift.  And, there was almost too much good music to endure.  I got a workout running from stage to stage in the sweltering noon heat trying to catch all the acts I wanted to see.

The hard-hitting Southern Rock of Good Man Down started my day off right.  Later, I caught the greatest rock-n-roll band in the world, the Supersuckers.  A rockabilly festival wouldn’t be complete without its evil twin; the Nekromantics and The Horrorpops also played fantastic sets.  Big Bad Voodoo Daddy made me wish I had a swing dance partner and who wouldn’t love the Reverend Horton Heat’s traditional southern gentleman charm and Jimbo’s raucous upright bass playing?

And, where else could you just run into a hottie who looks like she stepped off the pages of an Elvgren calendar?  The place was practically brimming with luscious ladies in skimpy leopard print bathing suits with perfectly coifed hair!  Miss Lola, proprietor of The Pin Up Angels was enticing concert-goers to donate at her booth.  The Pin Up Angels is a not-for-profit organization that compiles care packages for our military boys overseas…we’re not talking Hershey bars, y’all. She and her ladies support our boys by sending them eye-popping traditional pin-up photos.  She said it’s the best when she hears someone in the scene who was displaced by the military gets one of her photos.  They really appreciate seeing something that speaks to their mindset…everyone has the latest swimsuit issue.  Check them out at thepinupangels.com.  Who says rockabilly ain’t political?

People used to get tattoos or wear spikes or certain band t-shirts or shoe laces as a social filter: you could scare away the people who just didn’t get it and you didn’t want to associate with anyway.  And, you knew you found a like-minded individual if they understood your appearance.  Today, it’s just so easy to blur the lines between culture and sub-culture.  Between honest-to-goodness individuality and off-the-shelf-crap.  But, being at a festival like the Hootenanny makes me have faith in my own kind again.  Even greater was the fact that the freaks are breeding.  The number of babies in tiny, tiny Vans was astonishing!  One dad even trekked Junior into the pit!  Not recommended by Dr. Spock, but….it’s pretty rock-n-roll.

Words by SailorBeware, photos by Curiuos Josh