Big D and the Kids Table - The Good Ole American Saturday Night
Nothing seems to keep down David McWane. Not heartbreak, not bad days, not bouts of cancer, which the singer and longtime Big D and the Kids Table frontman has been recovering from over the last few months. No, nothing has managed to keep down the roadworn singer and poet and his merry band of misfits (the aforementioned “and the Kids Table) from doing what they love most. The Good Ole American Saturday Night, the twelfth album from the Boston-based ska punk band, is an eruption of good vibes and calls for hopefulness in these disparate times.
The spoken word “Allston” opens the album amidst a thunderstorm that erupts with a ripping horn section before leading into the upbeat “Right Now”, with McWane wishing the best for everyone that’s listening (“So I hope you/Cry from happiness/Love like it’s your last weekend”). “More Fun” and “Little Talks” feature the kind of energy that I need to hear on days when I don’t want to get out of bed, molding skatepunk ska into motivational tracks that seek to push its listener to get moving and make the most out of their day.
Some songs are more straightforward, like the bouncy “Rockers Way” or the storytelling title track, which finds McWane recounting nights at a bar where his band plays and the madness that ensues among the characters on site. McWane makes use of onomatopoeic phrases on songs like “Scatterbrain” and fast-paced “King Margaret”. At the same time, the chaotic “Slop” pushes the album into punk territory with distorted guitars and a double-time drum beat beckoning moshers into its presence. Even on songs like “Whiplash”, which are decidedly more about anger and betrayal, McWane feels more focused on the path forward, even when he has to look back.
The penultimate track on The Good Ole American Saturday Night, “Where You Wanna Be” is among its best, a bright love song in the darkest of times (“I ain’t religious, but I always pray you get where you wanna be”, “Well life’s a bitch for you and me/Hate persists but so do we”). Closer “One Like You” finds McWane looking for solace from these times, lamenting the loss of empathy in our society yet finding common ground with those also looking for relief (“I know you’re done with all this shit/The pricks, their tricks, the gross boot licks/Death of empathy has made us sick/I sit and click, watch the slick/Diplomatic, schticks and spit/I kick and scream to transmit/Love in this world, so I don’t lose it”). By the end of the album, he’s fed up, yet he hasn’t given up. Big D and the Kids Table has always been a band looking for the party at the end of the world. As dark as times are right now, I don’t think we’re quite there yet. We’ve still got a way to go. Even so, McWane is clearly going to pull all of the art that he possibly can out of these downtrodden times, horns and all.
