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Hank Williams III makes his own mark on country music
BY L. KENT WOLGAMOTT / Lincoln Journal Star
Friday, Mar 24, 2006 - 12:01:29 am CST

AUSTIN, Texas — Sitting at a corner table in a Mexican restaurant on South Congress Avenue, Hank Williams III is on and off his cell phone during a run of interviews to promote “Straight To Hell,” his new CD.

“I’ve had an emergency go down,” he said when the phone rang during our conversation. His younger sisters Hilary and Holly had both been badly injured in a one-car accident in northern Mississippi that morning and he was clearly concerned about them. “They’re tough girls, they’ll pull through,” he said as much to reassure himself as anything.

Then he turned his attention to the talk, leaning in close to the recorder, his braids swinging out from under the trucker’s cap emblazoned with the Confederate flag to nearly hit the table, then bang into his vest decorated with spikes and embroidery and a prominent marijuana leaf patch.

He’s tall and lean like the grandfather he never met, honky tonk legend Hank Williams — the touchstone for traditional country singers from George Jones to Alan Jackson.

Like his dad, Hank Williams Jr., aka Bocephus, Hank III is outspoken and not reluctant to mix some rock into his country.

Hank III’s also well-spoken, fully engaged in the conversation, just as he is on stage.

A day later, Williams and his band headlined the South By Southwest Americana showcase and did it his way, playing until after 3 a.m., an hour after closing, so he could do a full show that started with his raw, stripped-down country and ended up with the hardcore rock by his Assjack band.

When he sat down for the interview and heard I was from Lincoln, Williams said, “Knickerbockers. We’ll be back there in a couple weeks. We just played there not four or five months ago.” In fact, Hank III will be at Knickerbockers on Monday night.

Here’s my conversation with him:

Q: That’s a hell of a record you’ve made.

A: All right man, we had some fun. We did it on a little machine, do it yourself. Trying to show all those bands out there you don’t have to spend $200,000 and be in debt to your label. Get an easy machine, a couple of good mikes and line it up. None of us have audio degrees. As long as you can get the basic idea recorded, you can find a friend that will help you line it up in the end.

Q: So you guys did this all yourselves, just get in one room and fire away?

A: It took two months, but we did it ourselves — one month of recording and one month of getting the tones where they’re supposed to be, getting it to where it’s a little respectable when you do an interview with Mix magazine or something. We were trying to get it to sound as good as we could.

Q: You don’t pull any punches with your lyrics either.

A: We’ve always been kind of like that. I’m the kind of guy if you ask me a question I’ll tell you the truth if it’s hurting me or not. If it’s good or bad, I’ll cut to the chase and that's the way it is. We finally got the respect from the label. They understand that’s our crowd, man. We sing to those small bars. Most of those kids are looking for a good time and are all buzzed. But that’s our crowd we kind of cater to.

Q: Some of the stuff about pop country you’re just dead on right.

A: Some of it is a shame. It’s a weird deal. Me and my friends, we don’t even think about that or even listen to it. It’s so yechhh. That’s all I can see.

Q: Some of you guys show up in the little bars and they turn up to see the stuff that isn’t all manufactured.

A: “We show up with no lighting guy and no backdrop or any of that. Just our gear and here we are, we’re going to try to do our best for you. Some days the voice is doing great on the country side and some days it’s all messed up. But we’re out there doing what we do.

Q: I love going to your shows where you do the country stuff first and then end up with the Assjack stuff. It shows you music is music.

A: Oh yeah, man. That’s what makes us very unique. Most bands play for 50 minutes nowadays, we go out there and put on a 2½-hour show. You’re getting an hour 15 of country music, we do this middle ground stuff called the Hellbilly Side, then we end the night off with the Assjack heavy metal hardcore. That makes us a lot more unique.

I could have took the easy way and just been a cowboy, looking good, trying to make my money off Hank Williams and being this clean-cut guy. But I always wanted to be myself and go against the grain. We’re kind of like the Kurt Cobain of country music in a way.

Q: But it seems natural this way. It would seem contrived if you were trying to be Hank Williams 50 years later.

A: Oh, I hear you. At first, I did do a couple months in Branson, just saying, “Hey, this is a Hank Williams show and I’m learning how to sing. I’ve been screaming for years and I’m figuring out how to sing a melody. Then I’m going to go out there and carve my own way.”

The old folks ate it up for a couple months. And that’s all it was, two months and then it was back out there doing my thing.

Q: When you were learning to sing, did it surprise you how much you sounded like him?

A: It just surprised me how hard it is. There’s only one Hank Williams, man. Singing that high-voiced style, them bluegrassers, I don’t see how they do it — Jimmy Martin, Bill Monroe — it’s just a natural thing, man. For Hank Williams to sing some of them songs at 7 in the morning (on the radio), it’s amazing.

There is definitely some high nasally things, but I hear night and day differences between our voices. His was the one, man. Mine ain’t the best and it ain’t the worst. I use it and abuse it as much as I can out there on the road, man.

Q: Of all these things you do, is there one that’s the favorite, that you like doing better, or is it all just you?

A: It’s all me. As far as the shows go, it just depends on if I’ve got a voice or not. Sometimes the country set feels great. If I’m having a rough night and I’m wanting to deliver and I can’t because the voice is all messed up, I’m feeling for the fans sitting there who have to put up with me. That gives me a bad feeling, but I’m always working every day trying to keep it.

When I’m at home creating, I definitely put more time into some of the rock because I’m laying down the guitar tracks, doing the drums, doing the bass, doing the vocals. So I have to concentrate a little more on everything. On the country side of it, I usually only just do the acoustic and lyrics and have the players come in and do what they do. It’s a never ending process of learning, man.

Q: So what’s up with that second CD?

A: I’ve always been into ambient bands, noise bands, stuff to calm you down. It was basically my way of having fun. I just got some mix samples and threw some sounds in there. It was for the true fans who were going to sit there and fast forward and all that stuff. Some of it’s real stripped down, just me and a tape recorder and a guitar. It’s real old school to a point. It’s just this little ambient thing to come down to, to put on when you’re going to sleep, to put on when you’ve got to drive 50 miles and want to kill some time.

Q: Do you feel you have a responsibility or anything, given your name and your legacy?

A: I’m just doing what I do. As far as me trying to out-write or outdo Hank Williams, that will never be done. If I’m trying to put myself to beating Bocephus, that’s impossible things, man. I’m just out here trying to do the Jeckyll and Hyde show and get respect from the people who are my true fans, man.

Q: When did you know you wanted to be a musician, when you were a little kid?

A: I was a drummer at first. I got my first drum set when I was 10 and my first set of rock albums. I play drums until this day. I just did a project four weeks ago I was a drummer on. That’s what got me into music and I always thought I’d be a player, to a point.

I had a one-night stand that waited three years to tell me I had a kid, man. The judge said, “Playing music ain’t no real job, you’re going to have to get a real job and come up with this $42,000 back pay and $500 a month.” And I’m out there playing drums in a punk rock band making $25 to $100 a week, if that. I wanted to rock out as much as I could first, because you get old in the rock world by the time you’re 26. I wanted to rock out as hard as I could and grow older with the country blues kind of style. That got reversed on me.

That judge said, “Playing music ain’t no real job.” I’m like “Well, f*** you, I can make it a real job and like it.” I got into it, was a little green at first. I had to show these guys I’m a little different, I like doing things my way. Fortunately, that’s the way the independent world works. You signed me for me. You didn’t sign me to be with some producer and do that dude’s songs. That ain’t how it works.

I got in there and started learning the ropes, started hanging out with the right people — Wayne “The Train” (Hancock) and Dale Watson showing me my vision. Then just constantly working on our unique style and our diverse crowds. We’re definitely not the average country band. Some people hate it, some people don’t.

Q: To me it’s real, raw country music.

A: There aren’t many true rebels out there. We’re definitely carrying the torch for underground, non-pop country.

Q: That seems to be coming back ... I hear bands like you and Shooter Jennings and Dale and Wayne and others ...

A: It’s always out there, it’s just if it’s coming to the surface or not. I think everybody’s understanding that the world isn’t this pretty, wonderful place that's all perfect. That’s the whole deal. Everybody’s getting more real, man.

Q: Do you ever get burned out — you’re playing all these little places every night.

A: Oh yeah, man, every time I’m home all I’m doing is creating music and trying to rejuvenate myself for the road. I’m 33 now, but in reality I’m about 42 as far as the way I’ve been beating the road down and living, man. I do get burned out and I do try to put off as much energy as I can every night. Fortunately, I have the workaholic thing in me. I’ve always got to be doing something. It’s one of those things. I might be burned out, but it’s like a fighter, you’ll still get up there and do your thing.

I’m going to work the road as hard as I can. I’m 33 now, I’m going to work 180 days until I’m 50, try to do that much. When I’m 50, I’m going to take a break. Not call it quits, but I’m not going to kill myself on the road anymore. I’m going to enjoy the other side of life.

Reach L. Kent Wolgamott at 473-7244 or kwolgamott@journalstar.com.

If you go

What: Hank Williams III with Bob Wayne

Where: Knickerbockers, 901 O St.

When: 9:30 p.m. Monday.

Admission: $15, 18 and over