Punk ethos met the hard-drinking and rough living sad sack stories of traditional country and a generation of terrific and largely under-heard bands bashed away in bars for enough money to get to the next town. Bloodshot Records co-founder Rob Miller tells the story behind the movement in his new book The Hours Are Long, But the Pay Is Low: A Curious Life in Independent Music.
Miller’s tale doesn’t begin with him as a country fan, but rather a hardcore and indie rock omnivore, attending Detroit-area shows not just for the music, but the DIY attitude. At one point fairly early in the book, Miller recounts going to a Black Flag show at the age of 16 and seeing bassist Chuck Dukowski near the back of the club writing out the night’s setlist. Miller meekly asked if they were playing the song “Depression” that night, at which point the intense rocker smiled, and wrote the tune next on the setlist. This tangible and personal interaction with a famous musician was a turning point in Miller’s thinking and began his drive to be involved in the music scene somehow.
As his musical education continued, Miller stumbled into a local weekly happy hour with cheap pitchers and where the house band careened through country classics from Buck Owens, Conway Twitty, Tammy Wynette, Commander Cody, and George Jones (both “White Lightning” and “He Stopped Loving Her Today.”) From there, his two passions intertwined and led him to Chicago where he began noticing the distinct sound coming from local acts like Freakwater, Waco Brothers, and Robbie Fulks—artists who embraced the grit of punk and indie rock wrapped in the dusty heartache of country music.
Miller, Nan Warshaw, and Eric Babcock formed Bloodshot Records in 1994 with a sketchy idea on the back of a cocktail napkin and gave a home to a generation of cowpunks and alt-country shit kickers.
“Side B” of the book details the label’s journey, from working part-time jobs to keep the label going, running merch tables on cross-country tours, and promoting this brand of loose, raw, and passionate music that wouldn’t have been given the time of day by the majors.
Miller writes “We sought out the kids left off the other teams, the Bad News Bears of the underground, the outsiders of the outsiders” and within this assemblage of misfit toys they found some of the best underground music of the era and brought it to light. At its heart, “The Hours are Long, But the Pay Is Low”
We sought out the kids left off the other teams, the Bad News Bears of the underground, the outsiders of the outsiders
is less of a tell-all and a bit of a cautionary how-to, but offers a real “boots on the ground” view of the life cycle of an indie label.
In addition to the nuts and bolts of running a label, the book also offers insight into what its like to be a die-hard music fan, and to do whatever it takes to follow your passions. Miller writes “Before the blazing revelation of music, life was a pitch-black, locked and airless room, Music broadly, and punk specifically, was a flashlight and a coat hanger. I used the flashlight to find the door, and the coat hanger to pick the lock and get the hell out, to find other paths to travel where I wasn’t told where to go and what to think.”
Before its murky demise, the original Bloodshot label put out records by Old 97’s, Robbie Fulks, Andre Williams, Alejandro Escovedo, Neko Case, Graham Parker, The Bottle Rockets, The Sadies, Kelly Hogan, Lydia Loveless, Justin Townes Earle, and dozens of other performers, and the book gives an insider’s look into how the Chicago sarsage got made.
Rob Miller’s The Hours Are Long, But the Pay Is Low: A Curious Life in Independent Music is available in bookstores now.
