If you've ever lamented the fact that popular country music has gone down the crapper (and if you haven't, you've never heard real country), Rex Hobart and the Misery Boys will be the best thing to happen to you in a long, long time. With an old-school sound that harkens back to mid-sixties legends like Buck Owens and Merle Haggard, Hobart and his four-piece backing band spin booze-sodden sad-sack tales of broken hearts. Everything you could hope for is here: songs about cheatin' ("Here Comes Nothing"), songs about fightin' ("Bridge Burners Union (Local 36)") and songs about the juice ("I'm Not Drunk Enough"). Although those unfamiliar with Bloodshot Records' output may think this sounds like a parody, Hobart and the boys are completely sincere. The honest lyrics and playing pick up the traditions fumbled by the current crop of country musicians, making it apparent why this style has been around for over a century.

Hobart's lyrics are candid and inventive, twisting lines like "I'll drink till the booze is up to my eyes / and turns all my teardrops to gold," until it feels like that's both the best and the worst thing he could do. On "Forever Always Ends", Hobart lays his pain bare with straightforward conviction: "Forever is just a word used by all us fools / to convince ourselves that we will never hurt again / funny how forever always ends." Unlike the current purvayors of misery, he even admits that his current situation is his own fault, saying "I always said nothing would come between us / cheating was the last thing I would do / but nothing just walked in the door / ...and she's looking pretty good". This straightforward honesty is a welcome return to the original storytelling roots of country.

As a compliment to these lyrics, you get top-notch playing from all five musicians. The cry of Solomon Hofer's pedal steel on "I'll Forget Her or Die Crying" makes the perfect backdrop for Hobart's bitter, lonely words. "Barstow Barstool" features a slow, swaying tempo that mirrors the sensation of sitting, brutally drunk and thinking "I wish you the brokenest of hearts". Not everything here is whiskey-slow, though. "It's My Turn" is pure honky-tonk, and "Let's Keep Lying Here" is ready made for two-stepping. This mix keeps the album from becoming a blur of woe and gives guitarist J. B. Morris a chance to deal out some fine guitar licks. Combining these skills with the rhythm section of bassist Blackjack Snow (great name, isn't it?) and drummer T. C. Dobbs, this is a band that can whup anyone else out there. Although the title is a wonderfully accurate description of the contents, this album gives me nothing but hope for country music.