Kiss My Jackass

If you’re Roger Alan Wade, a talented country troubadour from Tennessee with a weak spot for raunchy honky-tonk, is it a blessing or a curse to hitch your wagon to the star of your less-gifted but way-more-famous cousin Johnny Knoxville? On the one hand, the Jackass “mastermind” and Dukes of...

By Jay Bennett

July 2, 2009

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If you’re Roger Alan Wade, a talented country troubadour from Tennessee with a weak spot for raunchy honky-tonk, is it a blessing or a curse to hitch your wagon to the star of your less-gifted but way-more-famous cousin Johnny Knoxville? On the one hand, the Jackass “mastermind” and Dukes of Hazzard “star” loves your stuff and gets you plum exposure in such high-profile places as Jackass and Howard Stern’s radio show. On the other hand, the sort of low-hanging fruit who find Jackass’ masochistic, vaguely homoerotic high jinks to be hi-larious are the people who are paying your bills. They discover emotional resonance not in your aching country ballads, like “Candle in Cheyenne” and “Rhinestones in the Ashes,” but in your bawdy novelty tunes like “Butt Ugly Slut,” “Gone Back to Whorin’,” “All Likkered Up,” and “Poontang.” Damn you, Johnny Knoxville. Suicide Driver opens.
Thu., July 2, 8 p.m., 2009

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