Hasil Adkins, folks. Remember that name. Rockabilly don’t get no weirder than ol’ Hasil from Boone County, WV. Hasil (pronounced Hassel) invented psychobilly back in the ’50’s. He didn’t call it that, and the genre didn’t take off until the Cramps turned Hasil’s warped vision into an entire sub-genre. Not gonna say that Hasil had his demons, but his songs are generally about poultry and sex (in the same song), decapitation and hot dogs (in the same song), and, uh, sex and death (in many of his songs). I’m featuring three today b/c, like any proud father, I simply can’t favor any of my dark demented psychotic sons over the others. I love them all equally. Enjoy and/or be appalled:
Sample lyric: “Looks to me like a dyin’ can of that commodity meat.”
![[Hasil Adkins - Chicken Walk (with lyrics)]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/oOpnplMQmCg/hqdefault.jpg)
Sample lyric: “I’m gonna put your head on my wall, and then you can’t eat no more hot dogs”:
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Nz9jR_AuLM
You’re welcome.