We have been described by some as the last great hope for rebellious rock and roll, but fuck all that. Who cares how others describe us. We are working class and that is who we make music for. People who get off work and think about killing their boss 90 different ways everyday, but never do; people who want to go to the bar and drown their problems with cheap booze and cheaper women; people that would rather punch you than sue you, these are the people we make music for.
It has become fashionable lately for every band to say, "Oh, we support the troops, man. This war sucks, but we support the troops." Oh really? The Revival doesn't say that shit, not once. We are American citizens; it should go with out saying that we support those guys that take a job to pay the bills and end up truly fucked. So next time some band is on stage talking about the troops, remember we are getting shit faced with those very troops and hooking them up with groupies.
It doesn't matter if your boots are lace up, steel toed or western, as long as you pull them on everyday and go to work no matter how shitty it is because you know you don't want to make that choice between food or rent ever again, we play for you. If your hat is cammo, trucker, or cowboy, it doesn't matter as long as you put it on before clocking in and working 8 12 hours a day at a job where you are under appreciated.
There used to be a simple order to things, society would leave a person feeling confused and angry as to why the world is the way it is. The rich get richer as the poor get poorer; injustice, war, greed, stupidity and obesity are all things that represent us as a culture. It used to be when these things would build up and weigh down on you, you could toss in your favorite band, crank that shit up as loud as it would go and tell the world to fuck off. Your neighbors complained, your parents hated it and the religious thought you were the devil incarnate.
That was what punk truly stood for. It was a place where all those who were angry at the world and strong enough to do something about it could rally together. Rather than sit on the sidelines and bitch about how shitty everything is, they got together and wrote the battle hymns to inspire an army of pissed off kids to rise up and take back what was theirs. We may not have been "The Greatest Generation" but God damn it if we weren't going to be the loudest.
Then something happened. The revolution became prostitution. Ideals that were held close and lived by for those that believed in them became nothing more than a fashion statement. Someone somewhere along the way realized that they could sell the image of punk rock and make a fast buck. It became nothing more than a fashion statement with no real statement to be made. But those of us that had a cause, all of us who believed that they were going to change the world were left out in the cold.
We looked around and realized that there was no way left to get our message out. Rock was long dead and Led Zeppelin killed it. Punk had been surrendered to the corporations, metal had cut its hair and turned down its amps and pop ruled the rest of the airwaves. Like the Jedi, we were all but extinct and our fire had gone out of the universe.
Now it's ten years later and everything has been divvied up into a million sub-genres, packaged up to grab the most shock value, and put on the shelves for all the sheep to buy; lest they become out casts for not purchasing it. And there in lies the problem. Now it is impossible to truly be an outcast. To feel as though you are totally free from society to form your own opinions and ideas, because there is no real alternative to popular culture. If you don't fit into one group and can't be marketed to that way, then you HAVE to fit into another group. That is just how it is. Or at least, that's what they will have you believe.
Not long ago two punks from two different backgrounds and parts of America got together, tossed back a several beers and discussed the aforementioned topics for a few hours. Songs were sung, stories were told, cigarettes were smoked, and many a beer were drunk. It was then they stumbeled upon this realization: The father's of country music were on to something. Guys like Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, David Allan Coe, George Jones, Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Billy Joe Shaver, Jimmie Rodgers, Sammi Smith and Bocephus were rebelling against the "Nashville" sound, and playing essentially 3 chord punk with a twang. They were fighting against everything that the establishment told them they had to be. They banded together and didn't let themselves be divided into sub-genres and conquered, they were outlaw country, pure and simple.
The two continued this discussion and thought that if they could take those ideas and that sound and infuse it with their own beliefs than they would truly be reviving all that they had clung to as disenchanted, angry, jaded, and above all, nonconformist youths. Not only was the mindset right, but the music was rebellious. It wasn't country, it wasn't rock, it wasn't blues or punk or metal, it was renegade... pure and simple.
From there the two set out upon what could only be labled as a misadventure of the most sordid kind. In truth, more than anything, they strapped themselves to a missle, and shot them selves into the infinate space beyond the accepted norms of society. They propelled themselves to new levels of living outside of what was considered 'good', 'pure', 'decent' and 'acceptable public behavior'. If it could be compared to anything at all it would be the sounds being made by new outlaws such as HankIII and Shooter Jennings, with a chorus of the old timers, like GG Allin, and Johnny Thunders singing along... But was still completely different.
This is the Renegade Revival...and this is your last warning!
Yes, we play live.
The year was 2002 and the Renegade Revival had three HUGE singles in Mexico, so obviously when the Tijuana summer music festival rolled around they were asked to headline. The boys packed up and headed south for what they assumed would be a week long party in the TJ, playing music, getting drunk, and raising hell.
Late into the third night the five members of the double r were out drinking in "some shit hole cantina that smelled like an abused pussy" as described by E-Rokk, when they were joined by a couple of senioritas.
After a few rounds of tequila E-Rokk and Nick Fit decided to bust out their acoustics and perform a drunken show for the remaining patrons in the establishment. By the time they had finished playing they found that Cecil, T. Bone Crebs and Jimmy Franks had left the cantina with the Mexican prostitutes who as Nick swears,"were HUGE fans of 'My Spanish Whore'"
The next day E-Rokk and Nick showed up to play the fourth day of the festival but Cecil, T. Bone Crebs and Jimmy Franks were nowhere to be found. After doing some research it was learned that the boys had been incarcirated by the Federallies. The charges the were brought up on were listed simply as "Crímenes contra humanidad... y burros" or "Crimes against humanity...and donkeys."
Though our lawyers have asked us to keep a wrap on the details of the case, Cecil , T. Bone Crebs and Jimmy Franks, now known as the Tijuana Three are still being held in an undisclosed Mexican prison with no court date set, and no evidence presented to link them to the scene of the alleged crimes against humanity...and donkeys.
We ask that you, as one of our loyal fans please write to the Mexican government and demand they free the Tijuana Three!!!
Outlaw country and old punk.