“She turned me on to Back Porch Pickers, Jackson Pollock, and gin”

Growing up, I wouldn’t have heard this song. I would have turned my nose up and the volume down. I lived on a US 30 border town, drawn south by my state and pulled north by my city. I tended to avoid southernism.

Why would you do such a thing?

Because when the best friends you grew up ride off on down 30 on skateboards in junior high and the ones who replaced them were fed by their father’s steel & energy executive jobs while your father slunked off to the back edge of the county to supple off PRB on the welfare’s dime, you tend to ride the wave of the success you’re surrounded by.

So long as I had a basketball in my hand, nobody seemed to notice anything else in Indiana.

It’s a shame, if this song would have came out I would 20 years ago I would have missed it. It lets me drift, adventure, and live reckless and safe within my childhood for about 5 minutes.

That said, I would shrink the shit out of the backend of this jam…2 minutes of “na nas” and “hey heys,” has a tendency to be what I remember of the song, and not the surprisingly great bit of explanatory quasi-beatnik lyrics. Not every song needs to be, “Hey, Jude,”-ed out the backend in order to shit on traditional pop formats.

– SideNote

Maybe I just Misunderstood the outro. I dunno.

Either way, I spent the afternoon in Indiana cornfields around Grmm’s bonfire watching fourth of July fireworks go off. No misunderstanding that.

“Hey there, weird kid in your high-top shoes
Sitting in the back of the class; I was just like you
Always left out, never fit in
Owning that path you’re walking in

“Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“Now, your buddies get their rocks off on Top 40 radio
But you love your daddy’s vinyl, old-time rock and roll
Elvis Costello, Ray Wylie Hubbard, and think Jeff Tweedy is one bad mother

“Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“One day you’ll lead the charge, you’ll lead the band
Guitar Hero with lightning hands
And the girls will like your tattoos and the veins in your arms
They’ll be helpless to your musical charms
And they’ll all hold up their hands
And they’ll all wanna dance
“With Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“First time I met Alabama Hannah, I was skinny as a rail
Red hair tied up in a blue bandana; she was hotter than the devil’s Hell
She turned me on to Back Porch Pickers, Jackson Pollock, and gin
Her daddy didn’t trust my intentions, so he turned to his daddy’s old
.410

“I’m Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“Had an axe to grind, so off I went
Mad at the sun for coming up again
I lost religion, found my soul in the blues
Rubbed the velvet off my blue suede shoes
Yeah, everybody held up their hands
And every soul on Beale Street danced

“With Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“So I went with it like a colt on my Plymouth
Through the glass behind my rear-view
Took a left when the world went right down 16th Avenue
Played with fire and I played on ledges
Every circus, stage, and county fair
They tried to file my points, sand my edges, and I just grew out my hair

“I’m Mr. Misunderstood, I’m Mr. Misunderstood

“They’re standing in line, chasing the buzz
Til the next big things and already was
And hell if they know what they’re trying to find
If it ain’t that same old, been-done kind
Yeah, gives the head-scratchers fits
Wondering how in the hell they missed

“Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood

“Hey there, weird kid in your high-top shoes
Sitting in the back of the class; I was just like you

“Mr. Misunderstood (I understand)
Mr. Misunderstood (I understand)
Mr. Misunderstood (I understand)
Mr. Misunderstood (I understand)
Mr. Misunderstood (I understand)

“I’m Mr. Misunderstood (let’s go out of here)

“Na na na na-na, na na na na-na
Na na na na-na na (I understand)” : ||

– Casey Beathard / Eric Church

Last updated by Finn at August 3, 2020.