The kid from Rockingham: B.J. Barham stays true to his Carolina home
B.J. Barham performs at Saint Rocke Thursday night. Photo by Jillian Clark
by Whitney Youngs
In 1994, B.A.T. Industries settled with the Federal Trade Commision to acquire the American Tobacco Company for $1 billion, and under the settlement, the company was stripped of its sole tobacco manufacturing plant in Reidsville, N.C., a town, then, with a population of slightly more than 12,000 — many of whose residents worked at this plant or farmed tobacco.
The sale of the company, known for manufacturing Lucky Strike and Pall Mall, blew a hole the in the local economy, fueling further disillusionment in the attainment of the American Dream.
Reidsville native, guitarist and singer B.J. Barham references the departure of the company in the opening song of his solo debut album, “Rockingham,” an intimate record of eight musical compositions based on character composites of Barham’s fellow Southerners.
The first song, “American Tobacco Company,” tells the story of a veteran, who upon his return from World War II, gets a job at the tobacco plant, only to be pushed out decades later due in part to an economy reflective of the 1990s, with its rise in globalization and advancements in robotic technology.
“It [the departure of American Tobacco Company] left thousands of families without jobs, so like a lot of small towns, when factories leave, it has a detrimental effect. People are still recovering 25 years after the industry left,” explains Barham.
As a member of American Aquarium, an Americana band formed in 2006, Barham was playing a gig in Belgium the night of the Bataclan theatre terrorist attack in Paris. The band was informed of the attack after the show and soon left the venue, crossing the Belgian border by van into the Netherlands.
“We were basically grounded, shows were cancelled, and we were trying to figure out if we should stay or go because we still had two weeks left on the tour,” recalls Barham.
Over the course of two days, Barham wrote “Rockingham” holed up in a hotel.
“At that point in time I hadn’t written a song in seven or eight months, and all of a sudden, it felt like a match to a trail of gasoline,” he says. “I think I kind of mentally checked out from where I was and went home.”
Barham writes clean, vivid snapshots of a character’s story with the detail of Joni Mitchell or Bruce Springsteen. He can precisely tell a story about his hometown, and thus the American experience of a rural Southerner who’s maybe never been beyond the Rockingham County line and who once relied on wages average during the heyday of manufacturing in the cotton or tobacco industries common to the region.
“Small towns get a bad rap, especially small towns in the South: narrow-minded, ignorant, not wanting to accept change,” says Barham. “My intention was to paint my hometown in an honest light and tell a story about an imperfect town with some really great qualities.”
The album contains common contradictions found in American life: the love-hate relationship many have with their hometown; the nuances of regional culture; the decline of the middle class as characterized by the departure of industry and stagnant wages; a sense of gratitude from a lasting marriage; and the desperation of a robber armed with a .38 who resorts to sticking up a store to support his family.
Barham now lives just outside Raleigh, the state capitol, where he attended N.C. State. He’s never left North Carolina.
“I just grew where I was, and I’ll never live anywhere but North Carolina,” he said. “It’s where I feel rooted. My whole thought process was if I can’t make it in Raleigh, there’s no way in hell I’m going to make it in New York, LA, Nashville or Austin.”
B.J. Barham, currently on his fifth solo tour, the most ambitious to date: 48 states, 53 shows, 59 days, performs at 8 p.m., June 1, at Saint Rocke, 142 Pacific Coast Highway, Hermosa Beach, (310) 372-0035. www.saintrocke.com. ER