From Atlanta to the Kuwait: Why Driving and Crying’s 1991 Classic Still Soars

Fly Me Courageous clinched top honors in our August poll, triumphing over picks from icons like the Ramones, Paula Cole, and Fantômas—thanks to the votes and passion of our Dig Me Out community. Feeling inspired? Suggest albums for future episodes and keep the conversation alive. For this special episode, we’re joined by James Barber—former manager, A&R exec, and music industry storyteller—whose Substack

Stars After Stars After Stars

dives deep into the backstage mechanics of the rock world with rare insight and wit. James’s firsthand connection to Drivin N Cryin brings fresh context to the story of Fly Me Courageous.

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Fly Me Courageous refueled the Southern rock engine. But who knew it would become a regional cult classic—straight outta Atlanta, cherished by frat boys, and even pre-flight hype music for U.S. fighter pilots speeding over the Persian Gulf? Remember albums that felt like the last gasp before grunge changed everything? This is one.

A Southern Rock Kinda Weirdness

Drivin N Cryin (just DNC, not D&C, and definitely lowercase for true Georgia natives) dropped Fly Me Courageous in January 1991, before anyone saw Nirvana’s tidal wave coming. It’s all big guitars, clean riffs, and an unexpected mix of influences. AC/DC power meets Southern-fried melody, with hooks that carve memory grooves into every song—from “Rush Hour” to “Build a Fire.” Listen close: those riffs sometimes echo Iron Maiden, Rush, and even the Plimsouls and early R.E.M.—but never settle for imitation.

What’s in a sound? Guitarist Kevin Kinney grew up in punky Milwaukee, bassist Tim Nielsen was a Minneapolis psyche-garage disciple, and only one member carried the true Atlanta torch. The result: not your uncle’s Allman Brothers or a Black Crowes wannabe, but a leaner, meaner slice of Southern-tinged hard rock. DNC embraced the no-frills approach—forget the jam sessions and long solos, every song clocks in close to three minutes, keeping things tight and urgent.

On the Verge Before Grunge

January 1991—almost exactly eight months before Nirvana tore down the wall dividing alternative from mainstream rock. Fly Me Courageous sits in that weird in-between space: enough 70s DNA to please classic rock fans, enough edge to hint at what was coming. Cleveland loved it, Southeastern college towns packed shows, and the Atlanta market could’ve made the album a quadruple platinum if the rest of the country caught up. Instead, it remained a regional blockbuster—selling out arenas in the South, while going almost unnoticed in LA, New York, and Seattle.

Lost in the shuffle? Maybe. But if you were driving Georgia’s highways in the summer, Fly Me Courageous was the essential soundtrack. The most energized Southern fans could keep the band’s MTV video flying high on Dial MTV—back when a mobilized fan club determined what hit your TV each afternoon.

The Warplane Connection, and Sonic Oddities

Here’s the kicker: “Fly Me Courageous” became a pre-mission anthem for U.S. pilots in the Gulf War. An advanced cassette made its way from Memphis to Pensacola—then copied and passed around, morphing into a literal fight song for the bombing runs.[ppl-ai-file-upload.amazonaws] In an era of unexpected music-military crossovers (remember Styx scoring a surprise hit with a ballad for returning soldiers?), DNC’s punchy rock with a unique lead vocal found resonance beyond the stage.

But even fans recognize the quirks. Some wanted thicker guitars, a bit more bass, maybe a touch of mandolin or pedal steel. Producer Jeff Workman, fresh off engineering Queen and Cars records, kept things spare and straight—a conscious move after the folkier, more eclectic earlier albums. There’s dryness to the vocals, some drum and bass that still echo the 80s, and a sense that if the band turned the weirdness dial just one notch higher, this could have been an “A” album. Still, Fly Me Courageous stands as a testament to the transitional, anything-goes energy of 1991 rock.

Why Rediscover Now?

What makes Fly Me Courageous so resonant today is that it’s both an artifact and a survivor—a record beloved by Southern diehards, overlooked elsewhere, but loaded with straight-ahead rock power and enough left turns to reward a deep listen.

Ready for another trip down memory lane—or to dig up what classic rock radio forgot? Give Fly Me Courageous a spin, then hit play and listen to the full episode discussion. J, Tim, and special guest

Stars After Stars After Stars

break down every riff, vocal quirk, and historical twist. It’s never too late to rediscover a punishing hook or the spirit of Southern rock reimagined for the pre-grunge generation.

Songs in this Episode

• Intro - Fly Me Courageous

• 25:51 - Rush Hour

• 34:44 - Let's Go Dancing

• 41:24 - Chain Reaction

• Outro - Look What You've Done To Your Brother

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