It should say a lot about a person, the oldest album they own. And, being in the running for Whitest Person Alive, it shouldn’t be any surprise that my first record is Hank Williams. There are several pre-1937 musicians - Robert Johnson, Lead Belly, Woody Guthrie – who would probably inaugurate a more extensive collection but I just haven’t come across affordable vinyl copies of their stuff (get ready for me to make plenty of excuses on behalf of my collection in future posts). Besides, my father was four years old when Hank Williams started his career and my father is super old.
When I was younger, the only thing I associated Hank Williams with was that his son sang the intro for Monday Night Football. Besides that, the first reference to his name I remember hearing was the Johnny Cash song “The Night Hank Williams Came to Town.” Honestly, I picked up this record simply because I had no country music in my collection. But I’ve grown to really enjoy it, especially the yodeling-singing and the fact that these songs are great for drinking.
The stereotype that country music is all about how much life sucks is never more alive than in Hank Williams’ songs. His subject matter is dark. Whether he’s writing autobiographically or about a cigar store Indian, everyone’s having their heart broken. I miss when the genre used to be an outlet for misery and rejection, before the plaid shirts of Garth Brooks and the general annoyingness of Keith Urban.
Blame it on the alcohol and pills, or maybe just general depression, Hank Williams was a lonely man. His songs are at once both hyperbolic and sincere, drenched in gloomy melodrama and at the same time sung with genuine pain. The Kurt Cobain of country music. And fifty years earlier.
favorite song: “Why Don’t You Love Me”
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