Today I’m featuring a youngblood who calls himself Kingfish. I don’t recall when I first discovered Christone Ingram but it couldn’t have been too long ago since, as of this writing, he’s not even 22 years old. Sure, he’s made tv appearances as far back as 2015, but I only recently heard him. His stuff is good—I’m fond of “Outside of this Town“—but I consider “Rock & Roll” his current masterpiece.
Rock & Roll
I know it’s bold of me to call this song his masterpiece. It does sound simplistic and the lyrics are a sort of redundant refrain. At least it feels redundant initially. More on that in a bit. First, the video. Normally I don’t like montage videos with lyrics included. That’s because they’re usually made by a fan with more passion than videography skills. But it’s different this time.
Josh Lindner did this video and for all I know he’s also an amateur videographer (I couldn’t find him in my brief Google search). Regardless of whether he’s a professional or not, what he got right that most don’t is the emotion. “Rock & Roll” is already a poignant song but with Lindner’s video, I feel like I’m in Kingfish’s living room looking through his personal photo album while he tells me how great his mother was. These aren’t picturesque landscape shots that someone thought would invoke inspiration in viewers. Lindner clearly set out to touch the viewer just as Ingram’s lyrics also intended.
Even without the opening “In memory of” text, this video immediately sets the tone for an homage to someone dear to the singer. When we learn this woman died less than two weeks before her 50th birthday, we anticipate a tearjerker. We prepare for something heavy and maybe even sappy for the more steely-hearted. Regardless of what you expect, Lindner masterfully lets the imagery support the song without stealing the spotlight. Enter Christone “Kingfish” Ingram.
In the first verse, Kingfish distills his feeling about his mother beautifully:
A Princess cookin’ in the kitchen playing solitaire
—Christone Ingram, Rock & Roll
She been burnin them stacks with a monkey on her back since Daddy ain’t there
She been swinging that ax and picking up the slack and it ain’t fair
I didn’t realize that Princess was his mother’s name until I saw this video. Despite having that knowledge now I still believe Kingfish wants the listener to understand something important: he regards his mother as royalty. She is Princess, but she is also a princess. I doubt she was literally playing cards in this memory. Princess is providing for her son by herself. She’s flying solo here because “Daddy ain’t there.” That solitude sounds like it’s chronic because she’s been “picking up the slack.” I don’t think Kingfish is necessarily angry at his father here. His statement about him feels emotionless, just the facts. He tells us his mother’s plight isn’t fair, but he doesn’t want to spoil his reverence for her with any more comments about his father. He is wisely concise.
Next is the chorus (the redundant refrain) where he says she did it all for him so he could pursue his dream of rock & roll. As he slides into the second verse his mother has already passed. She is still with him in the form of a personal angel and continues encouraging him to keep striving for that dream from the chorus. She tells him not to give up. Then the chorus.
By the third verse, Kingfish has become a performer. Preshow jitters may make him anxious, but his mother, his constant companion, whispers encouragement to her son. Her spirit drives the next chorus, altered slightly from the previous two. Now she is reminding him to sell his soul to rock & roll whereas before Kingfish was telling us she did what she did while all he could focus on was music. In the latter half of this third chorus, he gets it.
The fourth verse is when he’s resolved himself. He feels that he owes his complete devotion to his music. His grandfather is gone but perhaps his grandmother lives (“In the name of grandma and granddad’s ghost”). But it’s likely that both have passed. I think he took his mother kissing him before her passing as not only encouragement to dream big but also as a directive. “Go. I want you to.”
Now the chorus again and here is where it feels especially redundant. But I have a theory lately. He’s singing to his mother and anyone else who hears that he’s taking her seriously. He’s going to give it all. This is a song about devotional reciprocity. Not only is it about mutual love and respect, but it’s also a mantra. Turns out that while the song is indeed heavy, it’s also uplifting and not at all the tearjerker we might’ve anticipated. It’s quite a promise. And it’s a wonderful tribute.
As always, nurse that hangover. See you later.
