"What Would You Say, Kenny?"

My brother, Steve Pettit, has posted on his Divine Monkey MySpace site a recent radio appearance where he performed a song I wrote, titled "What Would You Say, Kenny?" Personally, I'm touched that the song means so much to him that he would perform it on a radio show, in lieu of one of his own songs. Since I have yet to record a demo of it, Steve's memory of the song derives from the two or three times I played it for him during a visit to Florida two years ago - an impressive feat of recollection in its own right. In my opinion, Steve is a brilliant song writer and performer whose work springs from a deeply personal, emotional well. I could be biased - he's my brother after all - but his work speaks for itself. Check it out. And by the way, that's me playing bass on "Mane" and bass and backing vocals on "Hold Your Breath."

In keeping with the weird theme of this blog, "What Would You Say, Kenny?" had an unusual genesis. Late one night, after playing a gig with The CoStars, I ran into a few casual acquaintances. An hour of hilarity and drinking ensued, and they invited me back to their place for an impromptu game night. Little did I suspect I was on the verge of being initiated into a Kenny Rogers cult - sounds like the beginning of a Reader's Digest true life adventure, right?

Now this group of people (a shout out to the Word Worms, y'all!) weren't your typical Kenny fanatics. It wasn't about the music, see...or the hairy chest, or his demonic frisbee throwing, or his undeniable sexual magnetism - though certainly these factors played a part. Really, it was all about the Gambler. It was about knowing when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, when to walk away, and when to run. My companions, and soon to be fellow cult members (Kelly, Melissa, Merv and Jenny), pulled out a cup of dice with a gleam in their collective eyes, and asked me if I'd ever played Ten Thousand. People, let me testify - I was a Ten Thousand virgin. At this point in the night, under various stages of inebriation and exhaustion, the rules were head-spinningly complex. Even now, sober as a judge, I couldn't explain them. But the important thing I came away with that night, the capper that launched the night into the realm of the absurd, was the Word Worm's unique variation added to the rules of Ten Thousand - every time your turn came, you invoked Kenny Rogers as the Gambler before rolling the dice. If he favored you, "Kenny walked with you." More often than not, Kenny was a cruel bitch god.

That night Kelly, Melissa, Merv and Jenny held me down while Kenny filled me with his essence. By the end of that night, I didn't know where I ended and Kenny began. I recall that Kenny and I walked together a lot, though not as much as Merv and Kenny -Merv was Kenny's chosen one. Upon waking the next morning, it all seemed like a crazy dream. Further game nights conclusively proved that it was no dream. Kenny donned his cowboy hat, his best dusty suit, and worn travelling boots, descended to our gaming table and walked among us mere mortals, bestowing a smidgeon of his gambler's luck on his chosen few.

Weeks later, stilled brimming with the essence of Kenny, I got to thinking - what the hell would the real Kenny Rogers think of all this? He wasn't even dead yet, and here we were invoking him like he was the pagan god of gambling. Kenny has always struck me as a down to earth guy. He probably goes to church, drinks moderately, holds no truck with far out supernatural nonsense, and, though women around the world have thrown every conceivable article of clothing at him while he does his thing on stage, considers himself just a really lucky guy. But a god? No way. Not even a demigod.

But why not stretch this basic premise even further? Inspired in a roundabout way by The Archaic Revival, I thought what if I wrote a song from the point of view of a guy who really did believe that "magic breathed" in him (whether inspired by the gambler or not - I'll let you decide), who was able to channel wisdom from the past through the medium of song, opening portals which initiated a program of evolution towards the next stage of consciousness.

While I personally believe in the potential of such a vision, and have spent a good portion of my life travelling such a path, I find the idea of a wide-eyed mystic confronting "everyman" Kenny Rogers with his personal plan for spiritual evolution incredibly hilarious. Despite this humorous premise, this inside joke to myself, I do believe "What Would You Say, Kenny?" is one of my better efforts, successfully fusing folk, psychedelia and mystical/mythical imagery into something...well, magical. Though I think my wires got crossed and I ended up channelling Donovan instead of Kenny Rogers.

Take a listen. Let me know what you think. Let my brother know what you think. Let Kenny know what you think.