You’ve heard the story before: Once in a long, long, time, an artist emerges who knocks the status quo on its ass. One who may be doing something a bit different, a bit unsafe, a bit dangerous—these days, not words generally associated with country. (Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard and Steve Earle excluded). It looks like it’s gonna take a punk rocker to make country exciting again—a punk rocker who just happens to be Hank Williams’ grandson.
With Risin’ Outlaw, Hank III becomes the whisky rebel arriving to break a bottle over the head of safe country—the Shania Twains and Chris Gainses—with a healthy shot of traditional honky tonk braggadocio and swagger. You see, Hank III has honed his playing not in the glamour VH1-country scene of airbrushed perfection but in the sweaty bars and dives of Punk Rock (yes, you read that right). The result is that when he decided to embrace his musical heritage he brought along with him a certain harshness and abrasiveness to his music, as if he just strummed hard enough, the last 30 years of pop country would disappear. Mix that necessary roughness in with a sweet, high lonesome wail and fantastic songwriting and you will begin to see why this artist will soon emerge as an important figure in country music—a galvanizing force away from slick pop emptiness.
Although Risin’ Outlaw has its rough edges polished by endless mixing and overdubs, certain songs are superb, true rebel poet slices of life, including the covers of musical blood brother and Nashville-shunned Wayne Hancock (“87 Southbound”, “Thunderstorms & Neon Signs” and “Why Don’t You Leave Me Alone”—which, recorded live on the road, sounds like a rewrite of Hank the First’s “Why Don’t You Mind Your Own Business”) and a driving-but-definitely-not-cryin’ cover of a song associated with Johnny Cash, “Cocaine Blues”. The standout original track, “Blue Devil”, is done on a four-track, for chrissakes. “Blue Devil” is the one track that crystallizes both the future and the past into one brokenhearted lament, in which Hank sings of “strayin’ from the good side” and ghostly acoustic guitars whine. It’s also the track that sounds the most organic and authentic—for the true explanation of those damn reincarnation blues look no further.
If you’re interested in the sound of real country—the heartaches, the honky tonk girls, the gutwrenching, godforsaken blues of this true American art form, pick up Risin’ Outlaw, for the Hancock songs and “Blue Devil” alone. Better yet, go see Hank III live, where he and his jaw-droppingly intense band (which include Duane Dennison of noise-punk legends The Jesus Lizard and fiddle player Don Herron of Grammy-nominated BR5-49) often play for three plus hours and his long tall visage and crying falsetto invoke the spirit of his grandfather even more strongly. And while you’re there, amazed that in this age of triggered vocals and digital editing a real, live band can be so goddamn good, ask him to play a new tune, “Pop Country Sucks.” After about four bars, you’ll begin to understand that “pop country” indeed does, but the real stuff never will: it just gets better—it gets reborn.
