Angel Of Death.
Posted: August 16, 2009
I don’t remember hearing Hank Williams that often around the house when I was a kid. My Dad was a Waylon and Willie guy, so I was more or less raised on 3rd generation country music, of the “Outlaw” variety. I wouldn’t discover David Allan Coe, Townes Van Zandt, Kris Kristofferson and those guys until I revisited my roots in my late 20’s. Johnny Cash was on TV every Saturday night so I was always well aware of him, but I didn’t realize his true majesty until much later.
Country music always sounded good to me, I always had a place in my heart for songs like “Luckenbach, Texas”, “Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain”, and “I May Never Pass This Way Again” they were simple songs that captured raw emotion. They were presented in such a direct, honest way that they were unforgettable. Even at my most jaded times as a young man, I still liked to hear those songs. They always connected me to my blood. Even when I wanted nothing more then to be as far away from my blood as possible. There is something to be said for that in and of itself. Music speaks to a deeper nature within you and the more direct the it is the more it resonates in the truth of your soul.
I own every song that Hank Williams ever wrote. Every night for 3 years I would fall asleep to his songs, in a time when I honestly had too say goodbye to the world every time I went to sleep because I thought I would not make it to the next day, Hank guided and protected my spirit in my rest. He wrote something like 150 perfect songs and was dead at 29. The depth and soul in his music speaks to my belief that music is a gift given to those who are willing to submit to its will. There is no other explanation.