It's become a stale joke in Nashville that rock singers who come around to cut with Nashville cats are either seeking first aid for an ailing career, or trying to ease over into country careers. Some suspected that Leon Russell may have been brooding on the second possibility when he transformed himself into Hank Wilson earlier this year and cut 36 songs in marathon sessions with some of Nashville's finest. But now that Vol. I is out, it seems clear as spring water that he did it just because he loves the music.

Of the explanations thus far advanced for the Hank Wilson moniker, the most plausible is that he took Wil- from Hank Williams and -son from Hank Thompson. He draws from Williams' catalog for two songs—"Jambalaya" and "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"—and taps Thompson for one—"A Six Pack to Go."

The album contains no original material and is a virtual country sampler of 13 standards, from bluegrass to honky-tonk weepers, which is where Wilson seems most at home. He is successful as a country singer about 60% of the time. Russell's natural flair for gospel is not in evidence (perhaps on Vol. II?) and his approach to the disparate material isn't sufficiently unified. He af?? ??e style of honky-tonk c?? Ernest Tubb in his de?? ?? Mullican's "I'll Sail ?? Alone"—with start?? ?? effective results. But then he is clearly uncomfortable with things like "Battle of New Orleans." Mainly, it is a matter of how successfully he fits a style to a song in each particular case. When the two blend, as on "Lost Highway," the result is particularly satisfying.

His only allusion to the Russell/Wilson duality comes in an added verse to "Goodnight Irene": "Sometimes I live up in Tulsa/I take a little trip down to Nashville too/If there's one thing I can prove to you in this life/It's just I want to make love to you. Yes, yes." That's a long way from an explanation, but Russell has always been one to let his music speak for him.

The musicianship is among the best to ever come out of Music City and Willie Nelson has called this the country album of the year, although it falls short of that. In his dedication, Leon even hunted up Billy Byrd, Ernest Tubb's ailing former guitar player, and went so far as to imitate Tubb calling for a Byrd solo. Therein lies both the album's strength and limitation, for music so heavily derivative most often finally falls beneath the level of its source. Having so impressively paid his respects, perhaps on Vols. II and III Hank Wilson will show us who exactly he is. It's something to look forward to. (RS 147)

CHET FLIPPO