Patterson Hood

God forbid the Drive-By Truckers ever run out of interstate or cease runnin’ the occasional local route. If they packed away the three-guitar onslaught in road cases never to be unleashed again there’d be heavy hearts from Zip City to Colbert Heights. You get the feeling they enjoy it up there on stage and out there on the road. The eat-shit grins and full-tilt stage stompin’ are a dead give away. Who wouldn’t want to make a living chain smoking and spreading the gospel according to the DBT?

Though it may appear these are milk and honey times for the Truckers, evidently they walked on egg shells, or broken glass as it may be, for a time at least, a couple years back. Killers and Stars was recorded in 2001 and in essence it chronicles these rotten and ambiguous times, at least from the perspective of one Patterson Hood, the principle song writer in the most important band in America.

The stories spun on Stars are those of hardship and reluctant responsibility- see, “Rising Son “ and “Assassin“ for the details. It’s heartache and uncertainty served up at your favorite meat and three- substitute PBR for sweet tea. It’s impossible for just an acoustic six-string and Hood’s voice, marinated in Maker’s Mark, to hide his vulnerability and frustration. “Belinda Carlisle’s Diet” is a manic temper tantrum, “Everything is so elusive / Why you acting so exclusive?” he begs in a laryngitis howl. “Hobo“ and “Frances Farmer” (incidentally the lovely from yesteryear on the album cover) are as vivid songs as the finest from Dylan or Young. They conjure memories as if they were shot on grainy 8 millimeter...like you’re watching someone else’s home movies or a strangers family slideshow, an oddly enough-- no matter how rough and unglamorous it looked, it still seemed like a pretty fruitful life in those pictures.

The album was just released by New West, but I’ve had the good fortune of listening to it for years after picking one up at a solo set Patterson played some time ago. A part of me is reluctant to share it with the world, and I think Hood felt the same. An artist is never certain when to unveil, as some things always seem a work in progress. As for the Trucker’s an the ill fate we considered at the top of this review, rest assured with accomplished songwriters like Isbell, Cooley, and Patterson Hood these men could park the transfer truck and roll solo and the stories would still be worth seeing and hearing.