The Beat Farmers march to a different drummer

Sarah Wolf

Forget good manners. Don’t even mention health food. And jumping on the bandwagon? I don’t think so. This is, after all, The Beat Farmers we’re talking about.

The San Diego quartet does not bow to music industry deities, let physical setbacks get in their way or apologize for who and what they are. Since their not-at-all-immaculate conception in 1983, they’re just out to have fun and be themselves.

“We keep doing whatever comes natural to us,” explained Country Dick Montana, the man behind the gravel-road voice and the drums. “There’s never been any sort of plan. We’re the most untrendy band in America,” which, in addition to “the fact that I refuse to wear shorts on stage,” has kept The Beat Farmers plowing through clubs and out of the MTV and radio spotlight.

Not that their lack of mainstream popularity has the guys cryin’ into their beers. On the contrary, Montana, Joey Harris and Jerry Raney, both on vocals, guitars and percussion, and Rolle Love pluckin’ the bass, have decided, rather, to roll with the punches.

“We accept the way things are, and being untrendy is cool, and we don’t have to worry about being out of style and breaking up in two years,” Montana said. “We don’t have to worry about playing clubs after we were doing stadiums.”

Their latest album, Manifold, off of Sector 2 Records, is their second after a legal skirmish with their previous record company for their recording freedom.

“We had to whip out the lawyers and let them do battle,” Montana explained. “We had to give up small stuff, but luckily our fan base is strong enough to keep us afloat.”

In addition to those feisty judicial matters, Montana has fought thyroid cancer. He has had three operations in the last five years. “It’s hopefully over with,” he said. “It seems to be an ongoing occurrence that I have to be ready for. I’m getting tired of having my neck dissected.”

His physical problems, of course, have a sort of hindering effect on the entire band, but that doesn’t mean Montana’s gonna give up the simple pleasure in life.

“It definitely slows us down for a couple of months,” he said. “A lot of people are surprised that I haven’t cleaned up at all, but I’m gonna get as much out of life as I can. There’s no sense in holding back. I haven’t turned into any sort of health nut or anything. I still love cheeseburgers and cheap liquor.”

Some of The Beat Farmers’ other loves include their steadfast, stubborn-as-mules fans. The band wouldn’t trade their admirers for anything in the world, except maybe free beer. The Farmers and their audience are a close-knit, cousiny bunch.

“It’s pretty much like a family reunion when we go to these towns,” Montana said, “though we can’t remember their names, and we can’t remember them driving us home.”

Fans will be glad to know that Manifold is the first album recorded at home in San Diego. It was also recorded kind of cold turkey, with an interesting effect on the finished product.

“It was the first album when we didn’t know any songs when we went into the studio,” Montana explained. “This time we went in totally cold. It’s a fresh record in that respect. You get a real honest treatment of the song. What you’re hearing on the CD is the first time we’ve done the song right.”

This new take on The Beat Farmers classic tunes is sure to make listeners perk their ears and crack some beer. Their version of country music is about as far away from Garth Brooks as, well, The Go-Go’s. “We play country the way we think it should be played: fast ‘n’ loose, real crunchy,” Montana said. “Not like those underwear salesmen on TV with their ironed Levi’s and their clean hats.”

“It’s a more guitar-based rock ‘n’ roll record than usual,” he continued. “There are a couple really stark acoustic things: one is a duet with Joey. To us, it sounds kinda like Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan singing together, but people dig it.”

Speaking of Mr. Cash, one might mistake the bullfroggy Montana for the granddaddy of country music. “I don’t mind [the comparison],” Montana laughed. “He was there first; he wrote a lot of my songs before I had a chance to. Fucker.”

Catch The Beat Farmers in all their bitterness when they open for Blaster tonight at The Love Shack, located at 625 E. Court Ave., Des Moines.

Tickets are $7 in advance and $9 at the door; they are available beforehand at the Shack and at Ticketmaster outlets or charge by phone at 233-1888, or 243-1888