“You see, itap like country music is his wife, and metal is his mistress,” remarked my friend Rick at the last night. “One pays the bills, and the other is his passion.”
Itap true, there are two sides to . In essence, Hank III is an opening act for himself, which could explain the lack of an actual opening act.
The first side is a rebel country musician who snubs Nashville pop-country culture and sings more traditional songs about heartache mixed with alcohol, and weed, and pills, and acid. Okay, so not quite traditional, but the fans still sport boots and cowboy hats and the music feels like something that is custom built for playing in your 20-year old pickup truck as you burn down dusty country roads.
The band Hank III has assembled is filled with impressive musicians. A banjo, steel guitar, fiddle, stand-up bass, impressive drummer and Hank, himself, on electrified acoustic, all amped up just a little more then they ought to be, creating a powerful “Hellbilly” sound.
“I can already tell you are making it feel like Friday night,” Hank III said about the exuberant crowd. The sold out show was packed, with hardly any room to move without spilling your beer.
Opening song “Nightime Rambling Man” laid out the plan of attack to the crowd for the evening: drink all the whiskey and smoke all the stuff. The crowd obliged happily.
Itap clear that Hank III has a beef with the watered down country music emanating from Nashville and the controlling culture and expectations created by its music industry. On the song “Trashville,” Hank III sings, “Well, I used to think that country was out of Nashville, Tennessee, I don’t think that country’s here, because they killed it ya see.”
“Well I think I’d rather eat the barrel, of a double-barrel loaded shotgun, than to hear that shit they call pop-country music, on 98.1,” sang Hank III on “Not Everybody Likes Us.”
This is what new country should sound like. Same as old country. But faster. Harder. And more reflective of today’s country youth. It gets rid of the sugary pop country ballads. Forgoes the sparkly outfits and fancy light shows. This is real country music, double bass pedals and all.
But as the stage went black, those in Cowboy hats started to file out. The crowd in black T-Shirts and scruffy unkempt beards moved forward.
Now was the time for the other side. Hank III’s mistress. The metal.
“Shelton went Melvins,” remarked Rick. It rhymed at the time, but was completely appropriate. Shelton, by the way, is the real first name of Hank Willlams III.
The second half of the show was more doom metal than the traditional speed metal sets that Hank III is known to perform. This is what Hank III really loves, and it has earned him spots as opener for prominent punk and metal acts.
So here was a blacked out stage with just a faint green glow on his guitar, and a random imagery-filled slideshow that for all we could tell was trying to explain the relationship between communism, George Bush Sr., pagan necromancy, alien abductions, the Kennedy assassination, abominable snowman, communism, Banana Republics, Fidel Castro, and black vampires.
Yes, it was just that random. But the music is ultimately not. Songs that span well over 10 minutes each, heavy riffs, driving drums, and not a country hook to be found.
This is where Hank III’s soul resides. It has a clear influence in the way he plays his earlier country set. Itap his passion, and while the crowd that stuck around for the metal set was smaller, it was clear that on stage, playing those dark riffs, is where Hank III wanted to hang his hat.
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