Social Distortion occupies a unique space in the annals of rock history. Despite more than 40 years in the game, there are bands with more historical catalogs; hell, one of those bands (the Rolling Stones) will play Houston at the end of the month.
There are more experimental bands (Flaming Lips and Queens of the Stone Age come to mind), better punk bands (too subjective to speculate, and that’s a matter of taste anyway), bands with more commercial reach and mainstream appeal, bands with more devoted legions of fans.
So, yes, Social Distortion – which, alongside Bad Religion, plays Bayou Music Center on Monday – has really never ranked atop any particular list, genre or chart throughout its history. And that’s kinda the point.
Whereas numerous other bands may thrive in any number of avenues – whether musical, critical, commercial or some combination of the three – Social Distortion has managed to do just that, albeit while mostly flying under the radar for the better part of four decades. In short, Social Distortion likely isn’t the first name that comes to mind when someone asks, “Hey, who’s the coolest rock band of the last 30 years?,” and yet, when that name is mentioned as a consideration, a reasonable reaction is, “Oh, yeah, Social D is awesome.”
Social Distortion is awesome, and this has never changed. More importantly, the band is not just great; it’s authentic. Social Distortion wasn’t cooked up by some record label exec or A&R guy looking for the next big thing, back when that was a thing.
Like its music, tone and overall vibe, Social Distortion was very much an organic, authentic creation. The band was formed in 1978 by Mike Ness, the band’s only constant since its inception and a man who very much embodies the punk rock roots from which his band emerged.
Ness was on his own before the age of 18. His band’s first-ever show was busted up by police, whereupon Ness proceeded to get arrested. He lost part of an ear in a bar fight, battled drug addiction, was jailed a few more times and eventually cleaned up.
So, basically, the stereotypical rock star narrative, albeit with a much happier ending. Now 62, Ness remains the frontman of one of rock’s most credible, quality and respected bands of the past several decades. There is a simple reason for that credibility and respect – namely, that Social Distortion really f**king rocks.
In the late '80s, after moderate success and, for Ness, a stay in rehab, Social Distortion altered its sounds to reflect a more hybrid approach, “cowpunk,” a sort of country- and blues-infused punk sub-genre. Think Johnny Cash meets the Ramones. The approach worked, and two of the band’s next three records went Gold.
But that’s not what made Social Distortion cool nor special. A lot of bands change things up and sell a bunch of records. What made Ness and crew so unique was their uncompromising ability to make catchier-than-hell tunes that felt real. “Ball and Chain” and “Story of My Life” – from 1990’s self-titled album – are very much pop songs, verse-chorus-verse classics that were right at home on rock radio and MTV. But they also had something to say – “Ball and Chain” a tale of hard times and desperation, “Story of My Life” the story of a regretful guy who missed it all and knows it. A Social D listen is rarely a light one.
The band returned to its punk roots with its best album – 1996’s White Light, White Heat, White Trash – which experienced critical acclaim and moderate commercial success. White Light is an exhausting listen in all the best ways. Not only does it feature some of the best songs the band ever released – “Dear Lover” and “I Was Wrong” among them – it showcases a band that knows how to strike a nerve. Seriously, cue up “When the Angels Sing” during a hard time and try to hold it together.
And therein lies the genius and cool factor of Social Distortion, namely, that the band wasn’t trying to be geniuses nor cool in the first place. With Ness at the forefront and a cast of quality musicians – most notably, John Maurer and the late Dennis Danell during the band’s commercial prime – at his back, Social Distortion managed to carve out quite a unique niche during it’s 40-plus-year (and counting) run.
The band was never the biggest, most popular, in-demand or, to be honest, the best. Rather, Social Distortion simply was what it was. For a band that cool and authentic, that’s more than enough.
Bad Religion and Social Distortion on Monday, April 22 at Bayou Music Center, 520 Texas. Door open 7 p.m.. For more information, visit concerts.livenation.com. $75.50 plus fees. Standing Room Only.
There are more experimental bands (Flaming Lips and Queens of the Stone Age come to mind), better punk bands (too subjective to speculate, and that’s a matter of taste anyway), bands with more commercial reach and mainstream appeal, bands with more devoted legions of fans.
So, yes, Social Distortion – which, alongside Bad Religion, plays Bayou Music Center on Monday – has really never ranked atop any particular list, genre or chart throughout its history. And that’s kinda the point.
Whereas numerous other bands may thrive in any number of avenues – whether musical, critical, commercial or some combination of the three – Social Distortion has managed to do just that, albeit while mostly flying under the radar for the better part of four decades. In short, Social Distortion likely isn’t the first name that comes to mind when someone asks, “Hey, who’s the coolest rock band of the last 30 years?,” and yet, when that name is mentioned as a consideration, a reasonable reaction is, “Oh, yeah, Social D is awesome.”
Social Distortion is awesome, and this has never changed. More importantly, the band is not just great; it’s authentic. Social Distortion wasn’t cooked up by some record label exec or A&R guy looking for the next big thing, back when that was a thing.
Like its music, tone and overall vibe, Social Distortion was very much an organic, authentic creation. The band was formed in 1978 by Mike Ness, the band’s only constant since its inception and a man who very much embodies the punk rock roots from which his band emerged.
Ness was on his own before the age of 18. His band’s first-ever show was busted up by police, whereupon Ness proceeded to get arrested. He lost part of an ear in a bar fight, battled drug addiction, was jailed a few more times and eventually cleaned up.
So, basically, the stereotypical rock star narrative, albeit with a much happier ending. Now 62, Ness remains the frontman of one of rock’s most credible, quality and respected bands of the past several decades. There is a simple reason for that credibility and respect – namely, that Social Distortion really f**king rocks.
In the late '80s, after moderate success and, for Ness, a stay in rehab, Social Distortion altered its sounds to reflect a more hybrid approach, “cowpunk,” a sort of country- and blues-infused punk sub-genre. Think Johnny Cash meets the Ramones. The approach worked, and two of the band’s next three records went Gold.
But that’s not what made Social Distortion cool nor special. A lot of bands change things up and sell a bunch of records. What made Ness and crew so unique was their uncompromising ability to make catchier-than-hell tunes that felt real. “Ball and Chain” and “Story of My Life” – from 1990’s self-titled album – are very much pop songs, verse-chorus-verse classics that were right at home on rock radio and MTV. But they also had something to say – “Ball and Chain” a tale of hard times and desperation, “Story of My Life” the story of a regretful guy who missed it all and knows it. A Social D listen is rarely a light one.
The band returned to its punk roots with its best album – 1996’s White Light, White Heat, White Trash – which experienced critical acclaim and moderate commercial success. White Light is an exhausting listen in all the best ways. Not only does it feature some of the best songs the band ever released – “Dear Lover” and “I Was Wrong” among them – it showcases a band that knows how to strike a nerve. Seriously, cue up “When the Angels Sing” during a hard time and try to hold it together.
And therein lies the genius and cool factor of Social Distortion, namely, that the band wasn’t trying to be geniuses nor cool in the first place. With Ness at the forefront and a cast of quality musicians – most notably, John Maurer and the late Dennis Danell during the band’s commercial prime – at his back, Social Distortion managed to carve out quite a unique niche during it’s 40-plus-year (and counting) run.
The band was never the biggest, most popular, in-demand or, to be honest, the best. Rather, Social Distortion simply was what it was. For a band that cool and authentic, that’s more than enough.
Bad Religion and Social Distortion on Monday, April 22 at Bayou Music Center, 520 Texas. Door open 7 p.m.. For more information, visit concerts.livenation.com. $75.50 plus fees. Standing Room Only.
