Music today is mostly manufactured by record industry execs aimed at mass market. The results are bland songs with lyrics that have zero literary value; with melodies so recognizable you'd be correct to assume they were recycled from earlier tunes; music performed by "artists" who are better known for their goofy looks and tasteless lifestyles. But it doesn't have to be so:
Hailing from Kansas City, Missouri, the Rainmakers are the best band in America today. Probably the best evidence for that claim is their relative obscurity-- the mass market has grossly overlooked this original, literate, and talented group of musicians. Their music is dynamic mid-western rock, satisfying to the ear and quite invigorating. The chief songwriter and singer, Bob Walkenhorst, is the best lyricist since Browne, Dylan, Mitchell, or Springsteen. Walkenhorst's words are wry, humorous, sardonic, and always thought provoking. When Walkenhorst focuses his penetrating gaze on a subject, new insights abound.
But don't take my word for it. This page offers a small sample of his work, accompanied by photos of the band's recent concert in Little Rock, Arkansas. If you find his messages as compelling as I, go to the Rainmakers Website for more info on how to locate their eight albums, as well as more history about the band, profiles of the members, and a BBS to interact with other devotees of the band.
Well, to make a long story short, naturally
We fell in love and she done me wrong.
She’ll say the same about me,
But to my face and not in a song.
Two dreams make the world go round|
The one you've lost and the one you claim you've found.
Take a trip with me in 1967
With Grissom, White, and Chaffe on a rocket ride to heaven
A dead-end date aboard AS-204
It was American made, only the best for our boys.
I had another date with a homecoming queen
Take a trip with me to Kansas City, MO
Rockin' at the T-Dance
And I feel like picking a fight|
With anybody who claims they're right,
All the preacher men, the politicians,
All the critics and the things they write.
Me and Mark Twain were having us a ball|
Telling each other lies floating down from Hannibal,
With a bottle and a worm and a cane pole
We were fishing for secrets where the catfish crawl.
I went to a party with my new girl when|
We got there we ran into four of her old boyfriends.
One was with my ex-wife
One was with my gay brother
One was with my masseuse
One was with my date's mother.
Seemed most everybody there
had slept everybody else,
When I figured it all out
I figured I'd slept with myself.
Little Tiny World
Now we make money and we're alright|
And we drive cars and wield our might
We make love to people that we don't even like
As we move in small circles.
Looking out my window, the eclipse has begun
I grab your hand, we run outside and dance in the dimming sun.
Light through the leaves casts a zillion crescents on the ground
And you say, "Hold me tight."
Peeking through a pinhole, the eclipse has begun
High noon and midnight we’re standing in the path
Eclipse Has Begun
John G., Bob Walkenhorst, Neal Stevens, & Paul Reinmann
|The Rainmakers Website|
|Last updated: Nov. 22, 2000 by Neal Stevens
ALL lyrics are copyrighted, DO NOT use in a commercial capacity.
All photographs © 1997 by Neal Stevens unless otherwise stated;
No reproduction allowed without permission, which will be given freely.