Drive-By Truckers

Though blessed with literary talent, punk values, and a Muscle Shoals pedigree, the Drive-By Truckers are also unreconstructed rednecks, embodying "the duality of the Southern thing" long before they sang about it on Southern Rock Opera. And like true Dixie rebels, their fierce loyalty to their cause has often courted tragedy before glory. On Gangstabilly, leader Patterson Hood thanks friends and family for persevering through "the 12 years or so leading up to it." But the band's righteous DIY ethic guaranteed that mostly just friends and family would hear this tour-de-force debut, a taut collection worthy of the Bottle Rockets, Ass Ponys, or Waco Brothers.

Thanks to slightly better distribution and clearer production, Pizza Deliverance finally garnered the Truckers some wider attention. If the disc suffers from traditional second-album padding, swaggering rockers like "Nine Bullets" and sweeping ballads like "Bulldozers and Dirt" are as sharp as Gangstabilly's best. The rowdy-to-sloppy Alabama Ass Whuppin' proves padding has nothing to do with the band's live sound. Still, despite Hood's wonderful stories, few numbers improve on the studio versions. Instead, the guitar-heavy attack (and brief cover of "Gimme Three Steps") just clears the way for the Truckers' masterpiece. The title Southern Rock Opera is partly a joke, but the complexity of this two-disc set rivals the Who's Quadrophenia, comprising historical, cultural, and autobiographical story lines that eventually cohere in a deeply affecting portrayal of Lynyrd Skynyrd's final flight. And, more than Quadrophenia, the project is strengthened by the tension between the band's lofty ambitions and their commitment to an earthbound sound. It finally won the Truckers the attention of bigger labels, but the excellent new Decoration Day shows how their rebel pride has matured, not mellowed. The cut entitled "Do It Yourself" is actually about suicide, which they now scorn with the fury of street survivors. Slow, somber, and perfectly titled, The Dirty South is another tuneful evocation of the dark side of Southern life. Over alternately jangly and sludgy guitars, Hood, Mike Cooley, and young gun Jason Isbell lament Reagan-era poverty ("Puttin' People on the Moon"), reminisce about their moonshine-swilling daddies ("Where the Devil Don't Stay"), and memorialize a legendary workin' man ("The Day John Henry Died"). Older fans will miss the Truckers' Skynyrd esque raveups, but the gritty self-pity and gin-u-wine gravitas of these tragic vignettes still make for the best new-school Southern rock you can buy. (FRANKLIN SOULTS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide