For a man whose music is about as based in a hardcore honky-tonk tradition as any current artists, Wayne Hancock’s attitude is perhaps surprisingly irreverent. “If I have to listen to the radio, I listen to hip-hop or rock and roll, almost never country,” Hancock recently admitted during a conversation with The Badger Herald.
“It’s not that I really like the hip-hop or rock I listen to; I probably couldn’t even identify any favorite artists or songs. It’s just that I get really sick of country radio, and not even just the Nashville bullshit that we all hate.”
Wayne “The Train” Hancock is part of an increasingly anomalous subculture of Western-swing-based honky-tonkers, playing music that Hancock himself correctly calls “hillbilly jazz,” jumping, singing party music tailor-made for clubs and bars like those on which previous generations of country-stompers made their reputation.
Although he has written and recorded several acclaimed albums, on which his superior and timeless-sounding songwriting shines, it is live that Hancock finds both his greatest fame and greatest pleasure. “To me, it’s more important that I come to your town and do a good show and pay my bills than to be a big star,” he says.
Hancock returns to Madison Nov. 6, at the Club Tavern. His shows are famous for their extended length (there have been more than a few times on which Hancock has almost literally been forced to stop playing) and their consistently high energy level. The sets are never pre-determined, and Hancock is not afraid to launch his talented band into something it hadn’t rehearsed (“Who wants to do stuff you rehearse?”)
So committed is he to live performance that, as he spoke to the Herald two weeks ago, he was foregoing his doctor’s advice to check into a hospital in order to treat the staph infection he had recently acquired so he could keep playing.
His music is an enticing blend of country traditions, from Jimmie Rodgers-style yodels and Texas balladeers to rockabilly and jump blues. His songs seem to emerge from the wellspring of American music, and his voice — which often sounds uncannily like that of Hank Williams, Sr. — does even more to create the impression that Wayne “The Train” is a child of the music that has enriched his life since he was a young man.
“My parents were WWII-era people,” Hancock explains, “so I heard a lot of different styles growing up. My sister was a big Beatles fan, and I always liked hillbilly jazz and hillbilly boogie. I’m a big Hank fan, too. [I also like] lots of boogie, blues and ballads — just good dance music. It’s American, man.”
Like anybody whose twang or moan doesn’t fit in the increasingly narrow-minded framework of the mainstream music from Nashville, Wayne Hancock has been labeled “alt-country,” a designation he does not take too kindly.
“I think it’s bullshit. It’s the same as somebody calling me retro, to which I say, ‘fuck off!’ I grew up in the ’60s, and I do music from that period. Like any good music, it’s timeless. I can’t get on the Opry. They told me I had to stand in line; I said I’m not fuckin’ standing behind Hal Ketchum or whoever. I’d rather come out and do the small shows. I kinda look at that as sort of a duty,” he says.
“You know,” Hancock continues, “now that I think about it, I’m country. Fuck everybody else. I’m kidding; there’s a lot of good musicians out there making damn good music, but you don’t hear about it.”
Anybody who wants to experience Wayne “The Train” Hancock’s infectious brand of driving dance music should take any opportunity to do so, before this “Train” rocks off to another city, another show and another group of people to experience and enjoy one of the last of the true honky-tonk warriors.
Wayne Hancock plays at Club Tavern, 1915 Branch St. in Middleton, this Friday, Nov. 6, at 9 p.m.
