On Grayson Capps’ self-titled Hyena debut from 2005, he sounded a bit like an actor playing blues singer. He did take theater classes at Tulane, after all, but whatever the case, he did it so well that after a couple of listens, his mannered performance seemed accurate and trimmed down to the necessities. On Wail & Ride, his voice still sounds a bit exaggerated in its hillbilly drawl but it and the album are distinctive and organic; his sound is his own, blending blues, country, folk and rock ’n’ roll in a personal way.

After the hurricane, Capps moved to Tennessee, where he bought some land outside of Nashville, and it’s tempting to hear a little separation anxiety in “Poison,” when he sings about drinking around town over a second line beat. More likely, it’s a song written pre-Katrina or a song inspired by the muse he has lived in for just about 20 years. “New Orleans Waltz,” on the other hand, is definitely dealing with life after the storm. On first listen, it seems lyrically awkward, lines forced to fit the meter, and “What’s going to come of lovely New Orleans? / That rotten old town that everyone loves” feels too clever, or maybe not clever enough. As the song progresses, though, it’s clear more is going on than just another post-Katrina song. He mentions Earl, Josh and Dawson in a verse that will only mean something to Capps’ immediate circle of friends, and another verse, begins, “Let’s not complain about mayor Ray Nagin / I think that he’s done the best that he could.” A line like that will obviously date the song, but specific local references such as these are a part of the great Appalachian folk songs. Many of those songs told the community’s stories, and the songs have become mysterious as they’ve outlived the people who knew the references. That realization casts the lines that initially sounded awkward in a different light; he’s writing in the voice of the classic, populist folk song complete with a Guthrie-esque sing-songy melody. It’s probably still a song to admire more than love, but its call to rebuild the city will undoubtedly find many who’ll sing along.

Nothing else on the record is as deceptively complex; in fact, much of Wail & Ride delivers simple pleasures. The title cut starts with a conversation between Willie John and Pearlene, a couple who are hanging on to life by their fingernails, and lyrically and musically, the song is a wild, rockabilly-ish ride. His roar and a subtle piano that steps up to tangle with the electric guitar when things get intense animate the swampy blues of “Cry Me One Tear”.

Throughout Wail & Ride, Capps tells stories with somber undertones though the tracks are rarely heavy, and the backing has the just-loose-enough feel of his band live. Is Capps “keepin’ it real”? Who knows, and what is “real” anyway? When the product is this entertaining, the question’s beside the point.