Old-school Philly punk Kidz take a wild turn into hillbilly country with Dixy Blood

The first-gen Philly punks in Dixy Blood could’ve kept on doing the punk thing. It’s what they know best. It’s what they’re known for. Their surprising zig into country and honky-tonk comes down to one man’s obsession and his pals’ willingness to play along.

Separately, Clarence “Mick” Cancer (the obsessed one), Rich “Lustre” Cohen, Gloria “Betty Loo Gee” Goodrich and Joe “Moe Jo” Ankenbrand are a murder’s row of musicians who played in bands like Pink Slip Daddy and Das Yahoo. Together, they share one credit, the bugged-out, Cramps-like rockabilly of Sic Kidz, founded in 1978.

Cohen and Cancer are original Sic Kidz. That band broke up in 1985 and re-formed in 2000 with bassist Goodrich (from Meth 25), and on-and-off drummer Ankenbrand.

“I’ve known Clarence and Moe Jo over 35 years,” says “string thing” instrumentalist Cohen. “Besides the 15 years when Clarence and I wouldn’t speak — typical band shit — we’ve been brothers.” (Push Cohen to discuss their decade-plus argument and he won’t budge. Neither will Cancer.)

“Moe Jo loves his Dixy Blood companions,” says Ankenbrand (known for drumming with Bunnydrums, Autistics and Jukebox Zeroes) with an odd, third-person grunt.

“Dixy Blood is an extremely simpatico group,” says singer/lyricist Cancer. “Our interaction is unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. Dixy Blood’s a real family, a true family.”

“Our chemistry and creativity keep us evolving,” offers Goodrich.

Their evolution into twangy country, Southern murder ballads and hillbilly honky-tonk stems, somehow, from the 2009 death of Cramps’ Lux Interior. A friend to Cancer and an influence on Sic Kidz, Interior had no overt connections to country music. Dixy Blood’s inspiration was more philosophical.

“We felt compelled to pay tribute [to Interior] with a show whose lineup offered intriguing possibilities towards where I was going,” says Cancer, who immersed himself in old country recordings. “I locked myself in a dark room for like a year swallowing the genre whole,” he says.

“Clarence said he wanted to start a country band,” says Cohen. “I didn’t think there was any way my style of playing would fit his concept. I should’ve known better. The songs Clarence came up with were mind-blowing. Then again, the same thing happened when he asked me to join Sic Kidz. He had great, obscure songs he wanted to cover, as well as clever, funny lyrics for original songs.”

Cohen realized he didn’t need to sound “country” to make Dixy Blood boil. He reduced the amount of distortion, picked up a lap steel, rode Ankenbrand and Goodrich’s hootenanny rhythms, and it was go-cat-go.

From the beginning, there was a dark edge at work in Dixy Blood, a loose Southern Gothic narrative comprised of their favorite country records, plus a few originals (such as the heavy tremolo of “Radio Up Above”).

“What I like in genuine country songs are quirky, funny or intense lyrics,” says Goodrich. “Weird or dark lyrics, too. Simple arrangements. Some pretty singing and a 10-gallon hat.” When she’s singing with Cancer, she’s the pretty voice. (Picture a crankier version of those legendary Dolly Parton/Porter Wagoner duets.) The rest of the time, the broken beauty is all his, whether it’s covering Buck Owens or Hank Williams tunes or taking on their own crinkly, country gems. You’ll hear it all on the two newly released Dixy Blood recordings — the Baltimore EP and Songs of Love, Lust and Loss full-length.

“We’re already planning the next show, the next record,” says Cohen optimistically. “If you listen to the difference between Songs of Love Lust and Loss — recorded in 2012 — and Baltimore from 2014, there’s not a change in direction, but a progression in concept and execution. Things will continue to move forward. When that stops, so do we.”

For Cohen, Dixy Blood is about furthering his musicianship. “Sic Kidz used to drown out a lot of mistakes with noise. Playing in this band has improved my guitar playing to where I never imagined it could be, through country music yet. That’s gratifying. And, truth be told, with Clarence and Betty Loo up front, and Moe Jo behind, there’s tons of personality and stage presence. You can’t take your eyes off of them.”

Cancer’s philosophy works as well with country as it did with punk: “Play it like you mean it, like your goddamn life depends on it, you know?”

Sat., Dec. 13, 8 p.m., $10, with Full Blown Cherry and Explosive Head, Boot & Saddle, 1131 S. Broad St., 267-639-4528, bootandsaddlephilly.com.