ABOUT
THE WHITE ANIMALS
GOOD GUYS FROM NASHVILLE WHO WANTED TO RULE THE WORLD !!!
The Legendary White Animals are STILL at it...
There were giants in those days.
In 1980s Nashville, the “Rock Block” was a smidgen of Elliston Place near Vanderbilt and Centennial Park, and the unwashed rock and roll tribes practically lived there. There were so many bands and so many too-cool brooding scenesters hanging out and smoking clove cigarettes in the Gold Rush, wearing their black leather jeans, with their eyes rimmed with kohl and frizzy freeze-sprayed hair dyed jet black. It was a glorious time, and selling out the Exit/In or Elliston Square or Cantrell’s a few blocks away, was a band that pioneered the whole scene – long before bands like Walk the West, Webb Wilder, the Questionnaires, Government Cheese, In Pursuit, the Royal Court of China, the Dusters, the Actuals, or Guilt appeared. When those bands were still yet glimmers in their daddies’ eyes, there was the White Animals.
They were outsiders in the very scene they germinated. They dared to dress pretty normally, they dared to smile onstage and off, they dared to sprinkle popular songs like “Electric Avenue” and “Planet Claire” and other fan faves like “Secret Agent Man” and “Rock & Roll Part 2” in and amongst their own considerably well-crafted songs like “This Girl of Mine” and “Don’t Care.” Videos for both made the Billboard charts, and their song “Big Shot” was featured in the soundtrack of a major motion picture. Even worse, they acted on stage like they enjoyed what they were doing. Somehow, they weren’t considered “indie” when they formed their own record label, though you don’t get much more “indie” than that. They’re the only band in Nashville rock history who had a club named after one of their songs. (The Don’t Care Danceteria in Huntsville, Alabama.) They were even unabashed and unashamed to admit that they played fraternity parties when such a gig was like masturbation. Everybody did it, just no one wanted to talk about it.
“It all started with Kevin,” says long time bass player Steve Boyd, referring to lead singer and rhythm guitarist Kevin Gray, a Vanderbilt medical intern who junked it all to play rock and roll, starting the band as a duo way back in 1977. “He was just such an enthusiastic guy,” Steve says, “he loved music and he loved people. And I think that was the basis of it. We wanted to be regular guys playing the music. We weren’t really into any kind of pretense, we just wanted people to know we were there for them to play good music. We were very welcoming, and that just came together to foster a family of people who were way into music.” The fledgling duo turned gradually into a four-piece, with Steve coming aboard in 1980, drummer Ray Crabtree in ’81, and guitar wunderkind Richie Parks in 1982. Fleshing out the lineup was Tim Coates working the soundboard and adding the psychedelic/dub explosions of echo and other effects that made their versions of “Gloria” and other classic garage songs much more memorable than mere hoary run-throughs from moribund generic cover bands.
And thus, in ’82, the classic line-up fully formed, they hit the road, doing 250 dates a year. The word “grueling” is not a grueling enough word for such a dance card. By 1987 they were headlining theaters, but it was too little too late. Their eyes and souls were bloodshot, and though they were perched to finally “make it big”, there was no more juice in the lime. And they packed it in. For 12 years.
And then, like has happened with several great Nashville groups, they arranged a reunion show at the Exit/In and wondered if anyone would show up. Boy did they show up. Many sellouts later, they still get together. They’ll be at the Exit/In again in November and have several other shows in various cities on the books too. Yes, there were giants in those days, and some of them still walk the earth.
