This is a song from the great and often unjustly overlooked Austin-based rocker James McMurtry about — he says as he says introducing this new song — “18th century feudalism and primogeniture and their combined effects on modern-day American redneck culture.”
After playing to countless “rooms full of rednecks” in Texas and other Western states, the hard-bitten and almost menacingly articulate McMurtry started thinking the origin of the redneck as a people, where they came from and where they went. He learned that in the past in Europe if you weren’t the first-born son, you got nothing, basically, from your family, and so why not start over someplace new?
From that demographic fact he draws some pretty interesting conclusions. Here he is live this year with his fellow road warrior Betty Soo in Northhampton, Mass.
[Note: when I saw him at the Troubadour in L.A. a couple of months ago, he encouraged anybody “good with the intertubes” to post video of this song, because he said he “wanted to get it out there.”]
I introduced this song to some musician friends of mine and they were impressed, especially with McMurtry’s ability to subtly develop and sing out a this-is-who-I-am voice of the redneck. (And the redneck, for good or not good, clearly is a figure central to our culture.)
In the old world when your race was run
It all went to the eldest son
What’s the poor second son to do?
But join up with the common man
Set sail for the promised land
Across the might ocean blue
And they made us who we are
So let’s wave those stripes and stars
[chorus 1]
For the sons of the second son
Products of genocide
Polishing up their guns
Righteous and justified
Sons of the peasantry
Thinkin’ they’re finally free
Sons of the peasantry
Thinkin’ they’re finally free
Sons of the faithful serfs
Salt of the blessed Earth
In search of a master
[Verse 2]
And for a while we did okay
Or lookin’ back it seems that way”
Tried to put our best foot down
We left tracks in the lunar dust
Did away with the meaner stuff
All could ride at the front of the bus now
Didn’t need no Jim Crow car
And we thought we’d come so far
[Chorus 2]
Sons of the second sons
Products of genocide
Polishin’ up our guns
Eating that Southern Fried
Sons of the peasantry
Tellin’ ourselves we’re free
Sons of the faithful serfs
Salt of the blessed Earth
In search of a savior
[Verse 3]
Nowadays we’re feelin’ stressed
It’s all for us and damn the rest
Tellin’ each other have a blessed day
All camoed up and standin’ tall
Building bombs and border walls
As all collective conscience falls away
And they wave those stars and bars
Is that really who we are?
[Chorus 3]
Sons of the second sons
Products of genocide
Polishin’ up our guns
Payin’ on double-wides
Sons of the peasantry
Tellin’ ourselves we’re free
Sons of the loyal serfs
Salt of the blessed Earth
In search of a savior
[Chorus 4]
Sons of the second sons
Products of genocide
Polishin’ up our guns
Livin’ in double-wides
Sons of the peasantry
Tellin’ ourselves we’re free
Sons of the pagan serfs
Salt of the fuckin’ Earth
In search of a Caesar
Kit Stolz 