By high school, I was certain I knew everythingand certainly everything there was to know about the two squares who were always bossing me around. But my parents still managed to surprise me occasionally. One of those moments was when my dad recommended Southern Culture on the Skids. I thought Dad listened exclusively to blues, jazz and singer-songwriters such as John Hiatt, John Prine and Warren Zevon. Even when I found a Jimmy Buffett record in his vinyl collection, my preconceptions about his tastes weren't shaken; sure enough, I learned that Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude was an accidental record club purchase. But the SCOTS thing threw me. What was he doing with so many CDs from some novelty country-surf-rockabilly outfit? As infatuated with rockabilly and surf-guitar as I was, I couldn't get past the exaggerated hick accents and hokey-jokey songs about fried chicken, no matter how sweet the reverb-dripping guitar sounded. Years later, after a skip-button-happy listen to their acclaimed Countrypolitan Favorites, I still don't get it. But if I'm looking for Dad at 9 p.m. Sunday, he might be catching Southern Culture on the Skids at Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas. Tickets are $15 at frontgatetickets.com.
Sun., March 30, 9 p.m., 2008