Never mind the bullshit

Rock 'n' roll is as American as apple pie                                          

When some contemporary rockabillies and punks talk politics; they sound like Wavy Gravy in Haight Ashbury during the Psychedelic Mistake of the 1960s. 

Many in today's scene comb their hair like Elvis, but vote like Jerry Garcia. They attempt to play populist American music while despising the patriotic ethos in the genre's marrow.

They've mastered the mechanics, but don't for a moment dig what it's all about.

Rock 'n' roll historians recall that, when 15, Gene Vincent lied about his age to join the U.S. Navy during the Korean conflict. And like Vincent, Elvis served his country. 

So did many of their contemporaries. They were proud to be from the greatest country on Earth. Determined to defend her.

Gene named his landmark band the Blue Caps, after Ike Eisenhower's favored golfing brim. Can you feature a present-day rockabilly band adopting a moniker inspired by anything President Trump wears?

Of course, you can't. Anti-Americanism thrives as lustily among some present-day rockers as it did when Joe McDonald burned his thumb on a roach backstage at Woodstock.

(Unfortunately, loudly opposing absolutely everything established is not just a blueprinted part of 1960s-forward popular music merchandising, but a veritable requirement. It's also childishly indiscriminate.)

Early rock 'n' roll, before grasping executives uncaring about the music domesticated and commodified it, was a swinging manifestation of real Americans' values. It sure as hell wasn't some sissified, beads-and-sandals internationalist medium. 

But it did have a visceral bond with kids everywhere who just wanted to dance.

From its inception in 'unrespectable' mileaus, rock 'n' roll was a joyous, shattering, unapologetic "fuck you" to a repressive status quo. But its progenitors were proud Americans. They respected traditional, patriotic values. 

The form they forged was of the common man. They neither indulged pernicious foreign fancies, nor flirted with unpatriotic sloganeering.

Genuine rock 'n' roll was and remains a uniquely American style. It was wrought from our individual culture, and speaks with a boldly nationalistic voice. 

In 1959, Chuck Berry sang "I'm so glad I'm livin' in the U.S.A!" Years later, Englishmen the Beatles thought it clever to pervert Berry's proudly nationalistic anthem as "Born In the U.S.S.R," adding ersatz Beach Boys harmonies.

(That was around the time the four were pretending to enjoy the annoying sounds of sitars, and submerging themselves in anything daffily Eastern that they heard of.)

Rockabilly and punk are rebel musics, or at least once were. But they were never mindlessly contrarian. And there is nothing remotely counter-culture about solicitously catering to social pressures and perceived market dictates.

(I don't recall Johnny Ramone inveighing against liberty, democracy, or United States exceptionalism. The Ramones were a quintessentially American band. No other country could have produced them.)

To play honest rock 'n' roll is to affirm pride in our country's character, opportunities, and paramount world status.

Those who would today quarrel with the reality of rock 'n' roll being defiantly American should retire the Bigsby Gretsches and pegged-pants in favor of fuzzed-out folk guitars and paisley bell bottoms.

DC Larson is the author of Flesh Made Music: Rock 'n' roll essays and reviews (Retro Riff Books), and was on the staffs of Rockabilly Magazine and Pin Up America. His freelance writings have run in Goldmine, No Depression, Blue Suede News, Punk Globe, Wrecking Pit, and more. He's written for Robert Gordon's website, as well as contributing CD liner notes to Barry Ryan and the Rockats.