ALL770831-POThis is not your father’s Darryl Rhoades.  Or maybe it is.

The satirical and edgy rock music that Rhoades and his Hahavishnu Orchestra performed during the mid to late ’70s was a biting commentary on society’s greed, lusts and willingness to conform to government leadership. The willingness to obey those leaders sometimes required sending sons off to Vietnam to die in an unconscionable war. Rhoades’ slant on such curious loyalties could make people laugh, even if the joke was on the very people laughing.

Some 31 years after he and the Hahavishnu Orchestra called it quits, Rhoades is still making music and making even more sense. The songs on his most recent album, Weapons Of Mass Deception, have the spark and spirit long evident in Rhoades’ music. The songs also possess the biting commentary accompanied by a plethora of instruments, including banjos, saxes, fiddles, dobros and guitars. Rhoades has delivered the music he’s long had inside him. More importantly, he does a great job of conveying what’s on his mind. For starters, the war in Iraq, where our nation still has 130,000 troops. Bewilderment is conveyed when he considers the lessons of the Vietnam experience. The lessons were not learned well enough. That’s the theme of “The Sins of The Father,” one of the best songs on Rhoades’ new album.

Doesn’t every generation have its unconscionable war to deal with?  The most recent entry in that field is the war the United States started against Iraq in 2003.  Some reasoned it was a response to the attacks on America on September 11, 2001. A major flaw in their reasoning was that Iraq, as rotten as its leader was, did not participate in the 9/11 attacks. But to question the decision putting young men and women in harm’s way was to commit the treasonous offense of questioning our government’s leadership. Some questioned that leadership anyway, although most Americans were still supportive of President Bush in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. They believed invading Iraq to overthrow Saddam Hussein and confiscate the elusive weapons of mass destruction was vital to our security. People drove to work and their usual destinations with U.S.A. flags waving on the roofs of their cars. The patriotic fervor increased. Even moderate to liberal columnists like Thomas Friedman and Richard Cohen supported this “war of choice.” But overlooked in the desire to make us safer, the jingoism and willingness to follow leaders was the well-being of the soldiers in our all-volunteer forces. Darryl Rhoades addresses the plight of those soldiers on “The Sins of The Father.”

It’s a dark but jaunty song, Appalachian style. The protagonist is headed to Iraq to join in the fight against Hussein and defend the homeland. His family home is in rural Alabama. His father served in Vietnam. Grandfather fought in the Second World War. All three of them soldiers and all three of them farmers. As the young soldier serves his country, his family loses their farm. Rhoades explains the song was a reaction to watching the memorial roll call one Sunday morning on “This Week with George Stephanopoulos.” He says, “I watch it every Sunday I can and on this particular day there seemed to be a higher percentage of casualties from the South.”

Rhoades related to it personally: “My father was a WWII vet with war experiences that were about as bad as they get. I started thinking about the fanfare for the kids preparing to leave their small towns for a world and a battle they had never seen before. Many did and still do it out of a sense of duty like their fathers and grandfathers. We are all products of those that went before us, just like a political figure who may have had a father precede him in a political office.”

The son in the song is not a son of privilege, however. He’s fighting for his life and wonders what will become of his life when and if he returns home. Rhoades says, “I tried to imagine what it was like for a farmer’s son in a desert thousands of miles away that didn’t really understand or question why they were there, like those in Vietnam.”  He continues by saying, “The most difficult job a parent can have is losing a child and trying desperately to understand or rationalize the pain away. I saw this first hand with my family regarding Vietnam and when the reality of loss is matched with confusion or understanding that it was all under a false pretense, it’s a new level of anger.”

Considering some of the advice Bush 43 received, he may have believed he was atoning for some of the sins of his father, Bush 41. The elder Bush called an end to his own war in Iraq in 1991, abiding by the terms he agreed to while making the case for that war. The case was to drive the Iraqis out of Kuwait, which Iraq invaded the previous summer. In his memoir, Bush 41 explained how difficult and troublesome a committed effort to topple Hussein would be, never mind an occupation of Iraq. Perhaps Bush 43 did not read his father’s memoir. Now that’s a sin.

“The Sins of The Father” is a striking example of Rhoades’ talent as a songwriter. For years it’s been obvious that he could join funny and acerbic lyrics with a fine melody. It’s also quite obvious that he can tell a heartrending story about lives in America. Hopefully fathers and sons alike will listen to this song.

This story continues the Southern Song of the Day series.

Author’s note: By now it is well known that Darryl Rhoades and The Hahavishnu Orchestra will perform on Saturday September 12 in Atlanta’s Variety Playhouse. After a 31 year break, at least one more concert is called for. By the way, it’s not a reunion; it’s a celebration. So head to Little Five Points and celebrate one more time with Darryl Rhoades and The Hahavishnu Orchestra. Look for an article on Darryl Rhoades’ career very soon in Like The Dew.

Jeff Cochran

Jeff Cochran

Jeff Cochran worked in advertising at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution for 27 years before accepting a buy-out in the Summer of 2008. In the seventies/early eighties, he handled advertising for Peaches Records and Tapes' Southeastern and Midwestern stores. He also wrote record reviews for The Great Speckled Bird, a ground-breaking underground newspaper based in Atlanta.