Robbie Fulks is part of a unique and rarified fraternity – those striving to not only save/promote real country music, but innovate within its relatively tight framework. Guy Clark, Joe Ely, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Kinky Friedman, Johnny Cash, Bobby Bare, Dolly Parton, and Emmy Lou Harris – all have expanded the range, "definition," and popularity of country music. Add to that list Mr. Fulks, a Chicago-based fellow with a love of & feel for non-/pre-Nash Vegas country music, but he doesn't approach it like an overly eager crusader/caretaker. He infuses his brand of country with a thorough grounding in rough 'n' ready honky tonk with a nervy, satirical irreverence, with occasional forays in snappy, hook-laden rock & roll (which some might call "power-pop").

The Faithful gathered at Martyrs in Chicago. With just two guitars (Robbie & another fellow, didn't catch the name), bass, and drums, Fulks' combo held sway with his potent as single-malt scotch country, with a shot of not R&B but power-pop. Whereas the recorded version of "Let's Kill Saturday Night" is loaded with sprightly twang, the Martyrs' version roared like the Flamin' Groovies circa Shake Some Action or Elvis Costello's version of "What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love, & Understanding." But there was also snappy tradition-drenched country tonkin' with the Buck Owens-esque "She Took A Lot of Pills and Died" and a tribute to the recently departed Buckmaster, "The Buck Starts Here." Fulks combined the two (seemingly) divergent approaches with "Goodbye, Cruel Girl." Fulks peppered his between-song patter with salty, genially sarcastic asides – a born showman, he.

His recent platter Georgia Hard is a bit of a departure. It's somewhat a concept deal, dedicated to evocations of country music 1963-1973, when the Nashville sound aspired to some measure of sophistication with the rough edges smoothed-out but not to the point of pop. One might thing this was a previously unissued session by Bobby Bare, Roger Miller, or that rebellious Waylon. It's more "refined" than most other Fulks but he's not going Branson on us, no indeedy – bare yourself (pun intended) witness to "It's Always Raining Somewhere," "Coldwater, Tennessee," and the yearning, Merle Haggard-tinged, quintessential grabber of a title tune. Make no mistake: Robbie Fulks puts the "tree" back in country music.

Mark Keresman :: [August 2006]