by Harris Newman

The nerve center of music in the deep south, Memphis has helped define rock and roll from day one. Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Stax and Sun studios, the church of Reverend Al Green - but the south’s impact extends much further than it's direct offspring. “Half the bands from the ‘60s were inspired by music that came from Memphis and the south, and then they had to import it back into the States - the first two Led Zeppelin albums are really just primal blues,” explains Grifters’ guitarist David Shouse. Somehow it all makes sense - the Grifters, who true to their name thrive on begging, borrowing and stealing from every musical camp of the last fifty years and refining it into raw, anthemic and completely unforgettable pop rock, owe as much to the musical history of Memphis as the first generation of British blues which turned North America upside down.

I think what rubbed off on us is the renegade element of Memphis music, which would be people like Alex Chilton and Big Star, and the stranger white-trash rockabilly elements. I mean, you can’t deny that living in an area, particularly because we have a really good community radio station that plays a lot of indigenous music, has an influence. The guys in the band come from a lot of musical directions, and I think Memphis’ music is only a part of it. We don’t want to be confined to it - it’d be kind of a sham, considering that happened 25 years ago. It happened for a reason then and I don’t want to just regurgitate it.”

Even after years of critical acclaim from the CMJ to Rolling Stone and everyone in between, it's with Ain’t My Lookout, the Grifters’ first outing with Sub Pop, that they are starting to really come to grips with their jaded home turf and the mixed blessing of pushing the envelope of music in a city even Shouse admits is “pretty staid and conservative.”

“There’s a certain part of Memphis, the music stores and some independent press, that accept and keep up with the band, and there’s a big part of the industry in Memphis that positively wouldn’t give a shit if we fell off the face of the earth, because we’re a little too different for most people. The institution that is the Memphis music industry now has so badly wanted to return to the glory days that they’ve isolated themselves from people like (Easley studios owner) Doug Easley, who’s doing more for Memphis music now in terms of putting the stamp of a Memphian on other music than anybody. We’re not part of the country club. People want to know what’s up with Memphis music and there’s a little bit going on at our end with people like us and Easley and a couple of bands, but basically its a stalemate. A lot of the same people who were around in the mid ‘70s when Stax folded, continued to follow the same dream, the same musical heritage.”