LMF - Hank Williams III

When I was in college, a friend introduced me to the music of Hank Williams. Senior. Not that bearded guy that does the Monday Night Football song. That guy's daddy. Hank Williams, Sr., born in 1923 and plagued by chronic back pain due to spina bifida and self-medicating with copious amounts of alcohol, weed, morphine and whatever else he could get his hands on, died in the back seat of a Cadillac while on his way to a show on New Year's Day in 1953. He was only 29 years old. That didn't stop him from becoming an absolute legend of American music, and perhaps the most celebrated songwriter of the 20th century this side of Bob Dylan. He made country music. Not what they call country today. Not this bullshit, re-hashed 1950's and 1980's rock with a contrived twang, fake Southern accents, t-shirt slogan lyrics and over-produced by hornswoggling city slickers. This was authentic, honky-tonk country music, with lyrics about drinking, death, lost love, failure and everything else that actually matters. This type of soulful, simple, honest and rural American music later combined with elements of the blues and jazz to create a little thing the kids call rock n' roll. Without the classic song structure of country music as a backbone, rock n' roll would never have been.
The old joke about what happens when you play a country record backwards (you get your job back, your woman comes back and your lost dog comes back) is attributable to the traditional country music made by Hank Sr. and many others. Hank took it to another level and became the first true American superstar of music, having more than 30 top ten hits during his short lifetime. It was music for real people living a hard life to get a little release of pent up emotion, much like the blues had long done for the black communities of the American South. It also talked about having a wild time and forgetting your troubles, which was also needed. One song that I really love that kind of combines both traditions is "Honky Tonk Blues," about a young man who leaves the comfort and safety of his parents' homestead and heads to the city where he finds a little trouble, a little heartache and a bad headache. "I'm gonna tuck my worries underneath my arm, and scat right back to my pappy's farm." Who hasn't felt that way?

But I digress. This post is about the fact that I have an autographed picture of Shelton Hank Williams - a/k/a Hank Williams III, Hank Sr.'s grandson - in my office, and that I'm going to see Hank3 perform in Madison on Nov. 13. Suffice it to say that Hank3 is a lot more like Hank than Hank, Jr. He looks like Hank, Sr., he sounds like Hank, Sr. and he writes songs in the tradition of Hank, Sr. While Hank, Jr., basically personifies Nashville whoring itself out to become the largest selling genre of music ever, Hank, Sr. personifies the original spirit of country. Hank3 not only writes and plays his own true country music in his grandfather's tradition, and served as a bit of a big fuck you to the Nashville industry in the process, but he also leads a punk rock band called Assjack. When you go to his shows, you get to see both. He comes out with Assjack as his own opening act. Then he plays a country set. I'm really, really looking forward to it. Listening to Hank3 requires whiskey. In large amounts.

Modern country music, as far as I can tell, appeals to a lot of city and suburban kids who like the "joke" of being a redneck. Hank3 is a fucking redneck. A real one. He doesn't pretend to be a redneck on the weekend by wearing boots and drinking beer in cans. He's the kind of redneck that you'd be nervous to sit by on a Greyhound Bus to Missouri, because he's drinking some gasoline-smelling liquid out of a jar with a crazy look in his eyes and occasionally lets out a loud yelp.

Here's Hank3 playing one of his grand-daddy's classics, "I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive" in Nashville. I don't know how to explain this to people today, but imagine if you were 50 years old and Michael Jackson's grandson came out looking exactly like Michael and busted into a moonwalk and sang "Beat It." It's a big-ass deal to true, old-school country music folks. The last song Hank, Sr., ever released.

I'm not gonna worry wrinkles in my brow
'Cause nothin's ever gonna be allright nohow
No matter how I struggle and strive
I'll never get out of this world alive



Here's Hank3 performing one of his own, "Nighttime Ramblin' Man." I don't really like these tv. show performances, but they always have good audio.