Unroll That Twenty, Buy Me Some Beer

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The sound of a beer can opening at the beginning of “Hell No, I Ain’t Happy” should not work. Like the audible sniff that kicks off “Casey Jones,” the beer noise should sound corny. But Drive-By Truckers and Grateful Dead somehow get away with these try-hard flourishes. I think it’s because rock music plays into our rebellious teenage pasts, when we were naive enough to think that beer and cocaine could make us cool. 

Teenagers throughout time have been drawn to rock and roll because it gives them permission to be angry, to shout their rage and fears into a void. To borrow a line from “Do It Yourself,” rock music enables you to “turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound.” But in 2026, angst isn’t reserved for the kids. Plenty of righteous adults are fucking angry, and for good reason. 

The Drawl That Leaves Our Mouth

Reflecting on HeAthens Homecoming and being from the South.

Mundane MayhemNancy Einhart

During a time when asking “how are you?” feels loaded, and when I open emails with “hope you’re holding up OK” because “hope this email finds you well” seems inappropriate, it helps to have a song like “Hell No, I Ain’t Happy” to sing along with.