November 30, 2004

Head Trucker Patterson Hood tries to avoid talking overmuch about "Southern rock," claiming that his roots, at least, sink much deeper into classic '70s forms.

Still, there's no denying the pedigree of the first ominous chords of The Dirty South, or the provenance of lyrics about moonshine, backwoods poker and father-son lineage ("Where the Devil Don't Stay").

A three-guitar attack – complete with howling slide and rhythms that crunch across the ear like a blackjack – only makes the association more inevitable.

What differentiates DBT is that the band works the genre, not the other way around. Songs like "Carl Perkins' Cadillac," "The Buford Stick," and "The Sands of Iwo Jima" traffic in images that would seem contrived in less-skillful hands.

The Truckers imbue such iconography with their own intelligence and resonance, which makes The Dirty South an impressive effort.

Matt Weitz