Haymaker and the rebel tradition

An examination of Rock'n'Roll's 1950s's origin points up the style's innate foreigness from divisive hate agendas. 

Rock'n'roll was born from a multiplicity of racial and cultural idioms, including R&B, Hillbilly Country, Blues, Bluegrass, and Gospel. Proudly embracing that taboo diversity, it thrust its middle finger into the aghast mug of stilted, button-down propriety. (I speak here of the raw, original item, and not subsequent, commercially-cultivated simulacra.)

Remember that among rhetorical brickbats hurled at the burgeoning form by Officialdom were non-veiled racial ones like "jungle music." The White Citizens Council in Birmingham decried the "race-mixing" potential of the upstart sound's "raw, savage tone."

Among many other things, that attitude was stupidly intolerant. It's more than passing ironic, then, that some within the 2026 Rock'n'Roll community, having fallen for lazy mainstream journalists' kneejerk stereotyping of skinhead Oi! rockers, register equally high on the intolerance meter.

Meet the current bigot. Same as the old bigot.

For the uninitiated: One account holds that the skinhead movement was birthed in the 1960s, when ska-nodding Jamaican Rude Boys immigrated to England and blended with Rock'n'Roll-loving white working-class youth. 

That multi-racial, populist upswell was later infiltrated by racists, sadly, and has since been falsely depicted by corporate media as  institutionally hateful, malicious, and imbecilic. But neo-nazi dimwits were a miserable subset -- far away from the entirety and the punchclock sect's true essence.

But for fake-news wretches to actually do research and report complexities? Too much work, and unproductive to their preferred cultural narrative. Easier to unthinkingly crank out pre-formulated prejudices.

Haymaker are apolitical descendents of original skinheads. But, angry products of this crisper time, they bludgeon with two-fisted Punk. 

The group rallies like-minded, workaday masses to boots-and-braces unity, and appeal to upholding unique cultural identity. ("You're a working man and you are proud of it / You get blamed for whatever, but you don't give a shit!," declares Tim Steinfort in a robust reading of Bohse Onkelz's 1986 "Stolz"/"Pride.") 

Haymaker's shoutalong firebombs doubtlessly engender boulevard-marching, scalped choruses with fists thrust aloft. One hears a stomp battalion nearing. 

Race-hate is entirely irrelevant; it doesn't even enter into the calloused-hands equation.

"Why do I have to put 'I hate racism' on my jacket," Steinfort once asked. "Every normal human being is against racism. I think also everybody knows that I'm not a racist...I say to left-wing extremists: 'Fuck you!' Because, of course I hate Nazis, but I hate left-wing extremists as well. And maybe more. And do you know why?

"Because, constantly, you're accusing me of being a racist. Well, you know I'm not. Instead of standing up, saying 'I know Tim, you can say what you want, but he's definitely not a racist.' Instead of that, you stay away from me, because of what other people think. Well, fuck you...

"Of course, when people wear Swastikas or 'White Power,' okay - get 'em the fuck outta here!"

Individuals like Tim thinking for themselves and rebelling against conventional judgements is entirely in the spirit that fired our music to begin with.

Which is a wordy manner of saying: Pretty fuckin' Rock'n'Roll.

Facebook

Tim Steinfort on being unpolitical (9:46)

Videos: "Hooligan"   "Haircut"   "Proud"   "Skinhead"

Elvis banned by today's Rockabilly festivals?

Some two decades ago, several international Rockabilly festival promoters issued a statement that was not a shred of 1% reflective of the healthy rebellious instinct at the heart of genuine Rockabilly.

I've been given to understand their stated proscription yet stands.

The terrible letter bore the names of signatories Tom Ingram (VLV), Jerry Chatterbox (Rockabilly Rave), Guille and Vivi (Rockabilly Race), Robin and Collette (Rhythm Riot), Atomic Vintage Festival (UK), and Mark McDonagh (Viva East).

"We understand that the Confederate flag has, for many years, been adopted by some as a signal of the Rockabilly and roots music we all love," it began.

"However, we also recognize that this same flag can cause offence, as it is also used by race hate groups and is on the FBI's hate symbols list.

"In view of this, we feel everyone will agree that there is no need for it to be displayed at our rockin' festivals and weekenders, which bring people together from all around the world, to celebrate our shared passion for music and lifestyle.

(Some bands and attendees had long sported Confederate flag symbols on gear. So it was false and nonsensical to claim that "everyone" would agree with the clampdown edict.)

"Therefore, we ask you that at the following events, you do not display the Confederate flag or any other flags/symbols that people may understandably find offensive."

(A matter now in headlines is a San Diego HOA ordering homeowners to refrain from flying the U.S. flag. National stories in recent years told of efforts to ban our nation's banner from university offices. Will the Stars and Stripes one day also be slagged as "offensive" by festival heads and draped over the woke chopping block?)

Yes, Elvis would have been turned away at Viva's gate, as would iconic Southern boys like Jerry Lee, Johnny Burnette, Carl Perkins, and Billy Lee Riley. And Sam Philips. And Sleepy LaBeef. And Gene. Not to mention a whole slew of jim dandy contemporary tear-it-uppers.

(And let's dispense posthaste with the woke canard that race hate -- despised by all good people -- is the exclusive and necessitous implication of the Stars and Bars. That banner represented a geographic region with unique cultural history, one that defied imposition of outside authority. Pretty much the individualist instinct later embodied by Rockabilly.)

Festival bands surely reap considerable rewards. Between enviable visibility before diehard genre adherants and label representatives -- plus potential sales benefits -- appearances have considerable value.

But - barring a symbol of upstart defiance? This is 'rebellion' manufactured by Fisher-Price. I'm reminded of the early 1980s, when record companies force-domesticated Punk and refashioned it as innocuous New Wave. In a green-eyeshade twinkling, "Sonic Reducer" was plastered over by "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," and mass-produced, pre-ripped jeans and t-shirts popped up in Macy store windows.

Attempts to groom rough-grained Rockabilly for mainstream favor recall a 1970s quote from NYC Punk magazine slouched figure Legs McNeil: "Mass movements are never cool."

Festival promoters who take pains to avoid disturbing delicate sensibilities hardly reflect the swaggering irreverence for which genuine Rockabilly music has always been the crazywild soundtrack. Rather, at least in this regard, they are finger-wagging hectors of don't-care individualism.

To be fair:

Organizers are businessmen. And as much as they may well love the music, they understandably seek profit. That's why they set up shop in the first place.

If they've considered market preferences and found many potential attendees want certain regulations, promoters probably reason a commodity attractive to buyers sells more than do ones that may alienate.

Without at least some profit, festivals like Viva would cease. And that would serve no one.

"Heckler's veto" refers to when an anticipated theoretical listener's dislike of a potential message is allowed to prevent its being uttered.

There is a simple solution. 

If someone doesn't agree with a message, they need not listen. They are free to walk away, turn the channel, or not buy the record. But they do not have the right to define the world in which we all live, to decide what others may say or listen to.

Probably at least one reason Viva Las Vegas, etc, stifle speech is legitimate fear that sponsors might be besieged by online bluenose petition protests. Companies could, as a result, pull their sponsorships of events. 

And that trepidation is certainly understandable. Too, theirs being privately administered events, organizers absolutely have the right to enforce what amounts to a child-safety cap.

But make no mistake: Organizers are granting the upper hand to trembly advertisers and clucking moralists whose philosophical antecedents tried to shut down Rockabilly music, back in days when the sound kicked over polite-society traces.

For some of us, Rockabilly and its variants are more than simply musics. They are the blood surge of our existences. The proud lifestyle cares not for status quo sensibilities. In fact, many of us get kicks out of upsetting straitjacketing mores.

Real rebel music doesn't care if it rankles timid rule makers. It should never be emasculated.