September 1 - Southwestern Territory
K, so we might be getting Extremely Into my Shit now. A Mountain Goats album not just about wrestling but about territories wrestling, and in particular a song about a journeyman making towns. Exactly my combination of dirt, pathos, and soaring instrumentation, about a subject I deeply love.
Pro wrestling is such an interesting combination of incredibly personable and incredibly lonely. Crowded locker rooms, loud venues, dark roads, driving at unsociable hours because you'd rather make the drive that night than do the same in the morning when you have a match that night. It fills me with stories of Mick Foley sleeping in his car to get to wrestling training, and living on peanut butter sandwiches. For some people that's paying your dues on the way up, but for the major character in this song, that's just the job.
I often think about the guys who make up the numbers, even in large promotions. People who stay in shape, do their best, and are absolutely nobody's favourite guy. Nobody watching AEW today is watching for Cole Karter. Nobody watching New Japan at any point in history has given a fuck about Chase Owens. And yet they are there and necessary for the product. Keeping things moving, making sure that the people who make it to the top make it to the top.
They deserve this song.
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