In its first incarnation, rock & roll was dumb. By design. The first wave of hip-shakers and hit-makers didn’t make music to pore over and dissect with a scholarly ear. This wasn’t Mozart — and the lyrics weren’t Shakespeare.

This was music for the teen masses, music to ditch classes, to save up your dimes for the bubbling jukebox, to dance with abandon in your socks, to cruise in your car, and park on a hill under the stars. It wasn’t aimed at the head, but the heart (and maybe other parts).

In its next couple of incarnations, rock & roll grew up. It didn’t exactly put on a suit and tie, but the music and lyrics got fancier. The chords and melodies grew more complex and you were actually supposed to think about the lyrics now. How does it feel, asked Mr. Dylan. How does it feeeeel?

But even as the music and lyrics entered other realms, there were always bands willing to give you something dumb and fun.

The Nervebreakers formed in Dallas, TX in 1973. They began, like so many bands, playing covers (in their case, mostly loud 60s rock & roll) to entertain the crowds, while occasionally throwing in an original until they’d built up a repertoire. Over the ensuing years they developed their own punkish, garage rock sound, and became a favorite opening act for bands traveling through Texas, including The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, and The Clash.

Their most popular song, “My Girlfriend Is A Rock,” hit the local charts in a number of major cities in 1978, but unfortunately couldn’t break through on a national level. The pet rock phenomenon had already run its course two years prior but still seems a possible inspiration for this tale of a boy and his statuesque girl.

Dumb and fun? May I present The Nervebreakers.