"Texas," "Bootstraps" b/w "Cactus Town" 7-inch

Speed Nebraska Records

So this is how it all began.

Three songs from the 1991, 5-song "Oh My Land" cassette, recorded at the world-renowned Junior's Motel in Otho, Iowa, way back just before Omaha's first punk golden age. Pioneer Disaster was seed-cap farmhand icon Gary Dean Davis' precursor to the tractor punk "movement" that he invented, then destroyed, then reinvented with every new incarnation. It was angrier than the Frontier Trust/D is for Dragster descendants, and only time will tell if his latest manifestation, The Monroes, will just as proudly wave the dusty freedom flag that Davis has carried like the pseudo-intellectual, political savvy redneck that we're all so proud of.

All wet behind the ears, Pioneer Disaster was political venting at its most unrefined, uninhibited and unrehearsed. In addition to Davis on lead howl, the band featured guitarist Joe Fogarty, bassist Bob Garfield, and now legendary Omaha drummer Joe Kobjerowski -- all young, all eager, all mad at a world that only madmen like Ronald Reagan and Daddy Bush could have created.

The two-song "side one" opens with the gun-toting, truck-stomping anthem "Texas," that holds a mirror up to America's own red, white and blue-colored arrogance, with coy, inspirational lyrics like, "Well you invade Panama / You took over Granada too / You march into the Philippines like it was yesterday's lunch / Well this one here's for you," hollered over a twanging, hillbilly-hippy guitar that rides as rough as a rusty '68 Dodge pickup slamming through a cornfield. Song two, "Bootstraps," is a punk back-beat hick-rant about hard times in Reagonomics America that a musical patriot like little Johnny Cougar could have sang if he were a real man. Side 2's "Cactus Town" carries on the "big business vs. the little man" credo that would be cheesy except that our protagonists -- a modern day Charlie Starkweather and Caril Fugate -- end up making ends meet by knocking over random 7-11s, not knowing which way they were headed, but knowing where they came from.

This is sloppy, southern-tinged punk verging unapologetically on hippy rock; rough around the edges, dirty and unashamed. And with a message. The record's liner notes, written by Monroes' bassist Mike Tulis, give a brief historical summary of what drove the original recordings -- Davis' disgust in an "economic policy which, in just eleven years, had nearly throttled the life out of the Populist Party's legacy," adding that "Now, in the year 2001, 'Reagonomics' has returned to the White House." With today's massive lay-offs and an uncertain economy, seems like the time is ripe for a re-release.

This is a must-own for fans of The Monroes and Frontier Trust, or anyone who still has a turntable and isn't afraid of hook-filled punk. Plus, it's pressed on irresistible clear red vinyl. Available at your favorite independently owned record store.