Guitar god Billy Gibbons discovers drum machines, hooks, and cool cars
Has there ever been a more unlikely trio of video gods than this Texas trio that had a few minor blues-rock staples on classic rock radio before they exploded on MTV? God, I loved the eighties.
Singer/lead songwriter/brilliant guitarist Billy Gibbons saw which way the wind was blowing as the decade turned, so he bought himself a sequencer and drum machine and synths and just … wrote a bunch of catchy songs over the top of them and called it an album. Eliminator (1983) gave us four hit singles, four heavy-rotation videos, one restored 1933 red Ford Coupe, and a group of scantily clad ladies who populated Top’s posse or something. All part of the decade’s iconography.
Gibbons pulled a masterful trick here to keep his band relevant; he included all the elements and visual hooks that one needed to be successful in the early part of the decade. What made ZZ Top stand out even more was Gibbons’ guitar riffs and precise, thick, boogie-laced leads: You can bet no other band on MTV at this time had an organic, old-school guitar sound like this. The album still holds up even without the videos: “Legs,” “Gimmie All Your Loving,” “TV Dinners,” and my favorite: “Sharp Dressed Man.”
Seriously, turn up “Sharp Dressed Man” as loud as you can stand it in the car – the fuzzy, static-like artificial background sounds pulsing and alive, and Gibbons’ guitar, always meaty, positively sweats with thickness here. Legend has it that he played his leads using a quarter instead of a pick, and it sounds like it. The grit gets under your teeth, and the squawks and stings sound like knife edges. For eighties songs, that meant something, and the guitar breaks seem to go on forever – we had a certified, reborn guitar hero on our hands, and then the video faded out and Spandau Ballet or some other thing followed it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Naturally, ZZ Top milked it for all it was worth, following up Eliminator with the improbable Afterburner (1985 – featuring the Ford Coupe in space on the cover like they were turning into Boston, never a good sign), which was even more of a commercial success but kind of sucked. More hits here included “Velcro Fly,” with a video choreographed by Paula Abdul to show you which way the winds were blowing, and “Rough Boy,” a not-bad take on the tired power ballad. ZZ Top made another album in the synth world to make it an even trilogy and then switched back to what they did best when the water finally ran out of the jug: loud blues-based rock that sounded like pure Texas barbecue.
BETTER THAN REAL LIFE
So what to make of ZZ Top in the eighties? For pure novelty, we couldn’t have ever predicted their resurgence at the level of top ten hits, hilarious videos, and its melding of old- and new-school stylings. The guys who sang “Tush” turned into video-age darlings? As a young boy each video’s miniature story thrilled me along with the iconic beards, the waves to the camera, the magical car (best displayed in the video for “Gimmie All Your Loving,” which seems to exist in some sort of “Twilight Zone” universe where the mechanic’s dream is real or predictive), how the bullies in “Legs” get what’s coming to them, and the models – who sparked a dim sexual awakening.
What a world a band could create in just three to four minutes! The worlds in MTV videos were better than real life – with beautiful people, glitz, intrigue, and mysteries to solve. They had the escapist appeal of our favorite movies, and you got a cool song (sometimes) to go with it. You wanted to hang out with Billy Gibbons (and the other two guys, I guess), go for a ride in the car, maybe have him show you a few licks. It’s all standard stuff, but looking out the windows as we did, wondering what kind of adventures awaited (or didn’t await) us was part of the longing that seems to still define us. You can find its very serious roots in these not-so-serious mini-masterpieces from ZZ Top.
Finally, Gibbons knew which side his bread was buttered on. Gotta get yours. Is there anything more eighties than this lyrical couplet from “Sharp Dressed Man”?
“Top coat, top hat
I don’t worry cause my wallet’s fat”
He was above it all, one of those mysterious, endlessly cool dudes who just had that thing. His voice was all backroom dealings, cigarettes, and whisky. He mocked us in a way, maybe, or mocked the medium, laughing at how easy he made it, and you better believe he had no problem cashing his checks. But he wasn’t self-hating or shaming us for liking it. And there was never any talk of the band selling out – could be that bad-ass guitar solos transcended any of those simplistic views. With his shaggy and dusty countenance, he stood apart naturally anyway, but Gibbons and ZZ Top provided us with a riddle about learning how to be a part of something, honoring it, but still doing your best and not getting consumed. Moderation, balance, distance, stoicism – that’s it, there’s the life lesson I’m still working on.