Loudermilk Seasons 1-3

The show is on Netflix and Amazon Prime.

While Loudermilk doesn’t require you to be a snobby, misanthropic, Gen X music nerd to enjoy it, but it can’t hurt. It may help to better understand the somewhat arcane musical references and empathize with Sam Loudermilk (Ron Livingston) and life’s little annoyances that drive him to the precipice of derangement.

Some of you fine folks might already be part of that Gen X crowd, nodding your heads knowingly.

Sam, a Gen X'er himself, calls rainy Seattle home, and he's got a dual battle on his hands. One, he's a substance abuse counselor battling his demons, and two, he's grappling with the grim reality that more of life is behind him than in front, topped with an infuriating case of writer's block – Sam's an ex-rock critic, you see.

While I won't label this show as prescient, it does strike a chord in an era witnessing the disintegration of mass media music criticism. Even though Loudermilk hit the scene in 2017, its release on the streamers couldn't be more timely.

Created by Peter Farrelly and Bobby Mort, the show stars Ron Livingston, Will Sasso, and Anja Savcic as the three principals, Sam, Ben, and Claire. Sam and Ben live together, and during the first two seasons, Claire couch surfs to sobriety with them. Laura Mannell, as Allison, is a regular in Season 1, recurring in Season 2, and gone by Season 3 (notably missed). As a substance abuse counselor, that means there are some colorful recurring characters who are part of the men’s sober group he shepherds.

Perrinially pissy, Sam dishes out his crank to anyone within earshot. Imagine Rob Gordon from High Fidelity… sans any semblance of charm. In real life, you'd probably avoid Sam like the plague, but his acidic jabs and tirades are more amusing than offensive on television.

Now, I mean this with the utmost respect: you either like Ron Livingston’s acting affectations or you don’t. Whether it was Office Space or Band of Brothers, Livingston has been the same kind of everyman going back to Swingers. He’s a fine actor, but he’s not Robert DeNiro. So, provided you like him, and once you accept Sam’s slovenly and lumbering crankiness, you can kick back and enjoy the show. If you can’t overcome that, you won’t enjoy it because the show rises and falls on Livingston’s shoulders.

That being said, Loudermilk's magic lies in the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. While Livingston holds the fort in most scenes, the entire cast dazzles, especially Will Sasso as Ben.

As someone not in recovery, I found the storylines of Sam’s sober group characters amusing but not offensive or degrading. As the series progresses, they become pretty real, but never not too real. This is a TV show, after all. The show’s co-creator is Peter Farrelly, so if you’re precious about certain things or get offended easily, consider yourself warned - you may not enjoy Loudermilk.

You can expect some off-color humor. Along with his brother Bobby, Peter Farrelly is 1/2 of the team behind Dumb & Dumber, There’s Something About Mary, Shallow Hal, etc. For example, Edward Barbanell, as Charlie, is the foul-mouthed enforcer for a bookie and a legally blind “Vuber” driver with Down’s Syndrome. Charlie is an awful character (and yes, Barbanell does have Down’s Syndrome) who steals every scene he’s in and provides more than a couple of guttural laughs.

The show is an equal-opportunity offender, so if that kind of stuff bothers you - skip it.

Loudermilk is remarkable not only for its clever writing, peppered with terrific generational jabs and arcane music references, but also for the music supervision (hats off to Mason Cooper, the music supervisor). Which brings me to the reason I am writing this.

In the third season, we’re introduced to a fictional band called Poole, fronted by a female singer-songwriter named Lizzie Poole. She is portrayed by the artist Lissie. I had no idea who Lissie was, but you're pulled in the minute she appears on screen. And when she performed this brief acoustic piece in a coffee shop, I was all in.

I won't deny it: that 1:40 clip hit me right in the gut; I even shed a tear or two. So, I slapped pause on the show and dove headfirst into the Lissie rabbit hole. You ever get so enthralled by a performance that you can't help but hit pause and dive in? Living in this media-saturated, on-demand, and disposable environment, the fact that it still happens is fantastic, so when it does, I’m all in.

As I resurfaced for air from my Lissie dive, what stood out? The lyrics, my friends. Always the lyrics.

Sure, you’ve seen the characters in Loudermilk before; however, the show is different enough to make it its own thing. The same is true with Lissie; you’ve heard her before. Hell, even the subject matter of the songs is familiar territory. But she’s different enough to stand alone.

Lissie has the ineffable “it” factor. There is something about her, Lissie, that makes her songs unique, and you either have that… or you don’t. If we are to believe singer/songwriter Sam Phillips, in music, it could be called The Indescribable Wow #IYKYK (in fairness, Phillips coulda been talking about love).

Anywho, Lissie has that “thing,” and why she isn’t more well-known is one of those musical mysteries. But it seems Loudermilk is helping unravel the mystery, with her IG soaring from 42k to 56k followers in +/- 24 hours. I’m glad I ordered my copy of her most recent album, Carving Canyons, before it sells out, as I am confident it will.

Loudermilk isn’t a show about Gen X’ers lamenting that their best days are behind them. And it’s not a show about Gen X’ers battling with the generations that came before or after. It’s a show about people trying to make the most out of their messy lives, and aren’t we all trying to do that?

Loudermilk - watch for humanity, stick around for the laughs, and definitely for the music.

On Netflix and Amazon Prime now

Will there be a fourth season? No word, but let’s hope so - I feel like I want to know just a little more… especially about what happens with Poole. Which is to say, more Lissie please.