As a kid, we lived in the hills on the outskirts of town. We'd spend all day out in the woods playing, chasing animals, finding dead stuff, and doing things we weren't supposed to. Then at night we'd warm up by the woodstove, and dad would play the guitar. He didn't talk much, didn’t sing, so I didn't know the names of the songs he played or even what the music was called. Sometimes he'd pick up the banjo or harmonica. Mom listened to the country station during the day.
When I was a young teen we moved to the sticks where ironically I first heard rap music. Everyone loved NWA, Biz Markie, etc. Running around in Raiders jackets, LA Kings jerseys, and white sox caps. We didn't live there long, I only mention this to put things in perspective, gangster rap was in its heyday when I lived in the country. We moved back to the city and in the trailer parks is when I discovered Bocephus and put him on blast in between bouts of The Chronic.
Family Tradition had a special meaning to me because of this feeling that things were sure different in my dad's time than in mine. I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same, my son will face the same kind of mind-fuck on a whole new level.
Country Boy Can Survive was a big “F You” to the comparatively rich, preppy kids I went to school with.
I like to have women I’ve never had gave voice to an adolescent urge to get my dick wet, and offered something different than Too Short.
Kaw-liga was non-pc back in the nineties, a white man singing about wooden Indians.
I didn’t ‘get’ Waylon until I was a little older and first heard the song that took me back to the woodstove. As soon as I heard the opening riff on
Ramblin Man I recognized it as a song that dad played all the time on his guitar.
If you can’t tell, I love all kinds of country music now but Hank Jr. was the gateway drug.