How much wood could a woodbox box if a woodbox could box wood? Hell, who cares?
But it makes for a goofy intro for the Woodbox Gang, one of my favorite bands
in the world as we know it.
The gangsters hail from southern Illinois and have made camp in the Carbondale area for several years. The group, which formed around brothers Hugh and Brian DeNeal and their good pal Alex Kirt, recently added three more players to bring the total to six. As much as they sing about the devil and his supposed triple-6 number, I wouldn’t be surprised if there is some relevance there. More than likely, though, they sing about the devil because he’s still quite prominent in the rural woods — dare I say backwoods — of the Shawnee National Forest region.
If you look at Illinois as a human body, Chicago is the head, always thinking, trying to outdo the rest of the world in art, fashion, music, business, and other intellectual matters. Of course, we in the middle are the gut, nourishing the rest through food production, keeping ourselves going for the good of the rest. Now, you see, that leaves our southern brethren somewhere in the pelvic region, plus legs and feet. And no matter how hard that part of the body tries to think and act in a different way, the basic instinct always wins out. That’s why the Woodbox Gang sings about tractors and devils, men born with tails, drinking whiskey and Drano, vampires committing suicide in the sunshine, and Charlie Birger. The sound coming from the band fits the songs, the bibs, the floppy hats, the long hair and beards. It’s an acoustic cacophony of banjo, ukulele, guitar, mandolin, didgeridoo, harmonica, drum, and other as-yet-unnamed music-makers. They take this business seriously, not to make money (though that would be nice and somewhat necessary) but to make music that is relevant, substantial, humorous, and cutting.
This fall finds the gang traveling to New York, playing the Vulture Festival in Makanda, and venturing to Chicago and St. Louis to inflict their music on the city dwellers. The opening act, the Dust Bowl Refugees, includes Springfield prodigal son Patrick Hagerman and local singer/songwriter, heartthrob, and open-mic host Josh Reilly.
This article appears in Sep 16-22, 2004.
