“… in a flash Billie does with 19 words something akin to what Kubrick did with his classic cut from a neanderthal throwing a bone at the sky to a spaceship floating above the Earth in ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ …”
The more of his music I hear the less of a fix I get on Billie Reid. And that’s so refreshing. In an age where a slick branded image and press release says all you need to know or want to know about an artist Billie’s reckless refusal of categorisation has appeal.
Nobody else could have come up with this song. There’s roots rebel in ‘Ode To The Dudes’, wearily angry at the way our planet is being despoiled. But it’s not like Billie to settle for a familiar way of delivery. Even across the course of a couplet he goes from what feels like a classic folk song in his words and delivery before a collision with Dorothy Parker’s acerbic wit: “They won’t let us live on the beaches ‘n’ trees, while they breakfast at Maxim’s and brunch in Los Angeles”. In a flash Billie does with 19 words something akin to what Kubrick did with his classic cut from a neanderthal throwing a bone at the sky to a spaceship floating above the Earth in ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’.
“… I was born to this planet, alive and unarmed. I was thrown into structures more easily farmed
With doctors and lawyers ‘n’ labourers ‘n’ sheep, ‘n’ cattle ‘n’ businessmen, all in a heap …”
That kind of writing talent is rare, and helps explain why on his best days Billie Reid has been compared to Bob Dylan. Those kind of comparisons really don’t help, not least for artists determined to make their own mark. And for Billie influences include rock and roll through to Johnny Cash-style country, taking in numerous flavours of roots music, punk, and hiphop. The singer is relaxed in his skin, his songs wearing whatever clothes the muse piles by his bed.
The musical setting for Billie’s words in ‘Ode To The Dudes’ helps pain the picture still more. Yes, pain not paint. The production runs the gamut from epic rock soundscaping with undercurrents that subvert the potential for cheesy bombast, and there’s a kick-ass remix built around a dubstep structure that still works with Billie’s vocals. For that to work a writer’s words need a special knack: the ability for a listener to wrap their own feelings around someone else’s insights.
Having a song with nine words in its title isn’t something for everyone. It works as ‘Ode To The Dudes’ but the flipflop in the second half makes clear which gents he’s referring to. ‘Ode To The Dudes That Own Their Own Nukes’ brings to mind Peter Thiel, Richard Branson, Elon Musk and the space adventures they’re planning to undertake with our money. Undertake is a grimly appropriate word at this apocalyptic point, and Billie’s lyrics could be its theme song. There’s a pretty cool mash-up video out there already. And I’m reminded to of another classic Kubrick image: the crazed general riding an atom bomb in ‘Doctor Strangelove’. I heard a couple of dudes working in a local store talking about it the other week, and the geniality of two minimum-wage guys shooting the breeze about a gleefully macabre film sequence is a snapshot Billie would relish.
Charlie Reynolds
