AUSTIN CITY LIMITS FESTIVAL 2005 PREVIEW

Drive-By-Truckers
(Saturday @ 7:30; Heineken Stage)

By Jeremy Erwin

The Drive-By-Truckers could very well be the greatest band in the entire world. Three tremendous songwriters emerge from the deep south, hit their stride on their first record, slip their last three albums into the top ten list of nearly every year-end critics' poll and remain an under-the-radar phenomenon. Since the release of 2001’s Southern Rock Opera, a sprawling song cycle intertwining the rise and fall of Lynyrd Skynyrd and what the band terms “the duality of the Southern thang”, Drive-By-Truckers have remained the force to be reckoned with in American rock music; it’s just that most American listeners don’t even know they exist.
photo by Danny Clinch

Fronted by Patterson Hood, the son of former Muscle Shoals session bassist David Hood, the band rules its turf with a triple guitar lineup that immediately draws a comparison to another guitar heavy southern rock outfit, but the truth be told, Skynyrd never wrote songs this southern, let alone this good. While Ronnie Van Zant and company tossed off entire platters about good times and good ol’ boys, Hood and the band’s other principal songwriters Mike Cooley and Jason Isbel cover the South like a broadsheet, weaving tales of shit jobs, dealing drugs to feed the kids, and murdering the banker who forecloses on the family farm. Thanks to the band sharing lead vocal duties among its three songwriters, every track is a different voice on life in the margins that Jagger and Richards only pretended to live on the grooves of Exile in Main Street.

The beginning of this year saw the re-release of the DBT's first two records, 1998’s country-tinged affair Gangstabilly and 1999’s Pizza Deliverance; the rumor being that the band inexplicably recorded the songs for its second album first. Regardless, the band was obviously red hot from the start and continues through Southern Rock Opera, 2003’s Decoration Day and last year’s The Dirty South, upping its own ante with every release. At a time when it’s become a rarity for a band with one great songwriter to emerge from the muck of modern American rock, the Drive-By-Truckers have three; none of which appear to show any signs of writers’ block. Rarity? Hell, this is a triumph, one that should leave fans and critics alike dumfounded why there wasn’t a single tickertape parade south of the Mason-Dixon (or north for that matter) for a group of three guitar players who fight tougher than any Lee, Bush or Van Zant. Instead, this band who would be king works the trenches, rules the road instead of the airwaves and rarely if ever, looks back at its own face on a magazine cover. Somehow, it all fits, not that I could ever imagine a band who kicks an album off with a song about brother/sister incest sharing VH1 top 10 space with say, R Kelly.

See this band as often as you can. A couple of years ago, I pulled myself through a blizzard and abandoned streets to see Drive-By-Truckers for the first time, knowing them by name only. By the first chorus it felt like a pilgrimage. That’s all it took.

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