“Hillbilly.” The earliest recorded use of the word is from the New York Journal of April 23, 1900. As you might guess from that publication’s city of origin, the term was not intended as a compliment. The journal defined a hillbilly as “a free and untrammeled white citizen of Alabama, who lives in the hills, has no means to speak of, dresses as he can, talks as he pleases, drinks whiskey when he gets it, and fires off his revolver as the fancy takes him.” Although this is not a completely accurate description of country singer-songwriter Marty Stuart, that has not stopped the Philadelphia, Mississippi, native from adopting the term with a vengeance. His 1989 MCA debut was called Hillbilly Rock. The title track from that recording, written by Stuart’s occasional songwriting partner, Paul Kennedy, reveals the origins both of Stuart’s sound and of his attitude: “It comes from Mississippi, and down in Alabam’ / creepin’ like a fever all across the land / from deep in the Delta on the Louisiana shore . . . “

Not surprisingly for an artist who willingly adopted the “hillbilly” title at the close of the most homogenizing and centralizing of centuries, Stuart has great respect for musical tradition. He spent much of his youth learning from the masters. He joined Lester Flatt’s band in 1972, at the age of 13, and played with him until Flatt retired in 1978. Stuart was also a member of Johnny Cash’s band.

Respect for tradition is not synonymous with stagnation, and Stuart has done more than simply ape the sounds of his heroes. He has carried the influence of Flatt and other bluegrass legends and Johnny Cash into his solo career. His first album, Busybee Café, has a substantial bluegrass and old-time country flavor that is aided by the presence of Earl Scruggs and Doc Watson and songs that include covers of tunes by Flatt and Scruggs and Bill Monroe. Busybee Café also features Johnny Cash, who performs his classic tune “Hey Porter.”

Hillbilly Rock displays several of Stuart’s distinctive sounds. Most of the songs on the album feature a driving beat, often set by a rhythm guitar, along with a tinge of rock ‘n’ roll and rockabilly. The upbeat tone set by the tide track—”as long as it’s breezy, as long as it’s fast / as long as it’s pumpin’ honey, it’s gonna last”—continues throughout the album, which includes covers of the rockabilly classics “The Wild One,” originally recorded by Johnny Horton, and Johnny Cash’s “Cry, Cry, Cry.” One notable new tune, cowritten by Stuart and Paul Kennerly, cries out for the recording talents of the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Alas, “Hard to Hold” premiered some 12 years after Elvis Presley either died or went into hiding, but Stuart does a fine job with this rendition of the time-honored cliche about a man who ain’t about to be tied down to no woman: “I’ve got to get me back to Alabam’ / there’s something baby you must understand / You can’t slip a ring around a travelin’ man / Honey I’m hard to hold . . . “

On his follow-up release, Tempted, Stuart makes clear to his listeners where he is coming from. The liner notes tell of a conversation with a reporter who asked the singer where he fit “in the scheme of country music these days.” These are liner notes, mind you, not a memoir, and so they may have been composed by a cokesnorting Corporate Suit in L.A. trying to sound like Stuart. But if they were, the Suit did a good job; “I was raised by the masters that invented the music around here, I’m one of their kids. I feel obligated to carry some of the pure things that they taught me into the 21st century. I mean hard rockin’ hillbilly music, that’s what I feel. I don’t know, maybe I’m a bridge between the past and the future.” The music on the disc backs up the words on the label. The newer covers and original tunes feature Stuart’s distinctive beat-oriented sound. As a bonus, he includes three covers of classic tunes. The album opens with “I’m Blue, I’m Lonesome,” written by Bill Monroe and Hank Williams, and closes with “Get Back to the Country,” by Neil Young. The centerpiece is a haunting version of Johnny Cash’s “Blue Train.”

Stuart’s best release to date is This One’s Gonna Hurt You which came out in 1992. It opens with “Me & Hank & Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” a dreamy visit to Hillbilly Heaven where Stuart meets Hank Williams. The legend tells him, “You just go on back down there. You make us proud / and remember, wherever you go there’s a little hillbilly in every crowd.” This One’s Gonna Hurt You also includes several examples of Stuart’s hillbilly patriotism, evident in song titles such as “Down Home,” “Now That’s Country,” and “Honky Tonk Crowd.” These tunes blend Stuart’s rock-inflected sound with just the right amount of twang. At times, the lyrics celebrate an idealized country existence: “This old Coupe de Ville knows where to go / just a mile or two down that old dirt road / There’s a rusty truck and a shotgun shack. / It ain’t much but y’all come back!” At other times they display a cornpone philosophy of life: “You know every man and woman ought to have a place to lay your burdens down. /Y’all can do it in the city, but it ain’t the same in the big old towns.” In the end, though, it all comes back to the music. “There was a debutante in Dallas who nearly blew my mind. She was raised on caviar and real fine wine / She didn’t like hillbilly music and that was more than I could take. I left that lovely little cowgirl waitin’ in the Lone Star State. / Cause I had to go where the music was loud. I’m right at home with a honky tonk crowd.”

Stuart’s latest release is 1999’s The Pilgrim. It is, in the industry’ lingo, a “concept album,” and the liner notes tell us that it is based on a true story. It may even qualify as a hillbilly opera. For this ambitious project, Stuart assembled an allstar cast that includes George Jones, Johnny Cash, Ralph Stanley, Emmy Lou Harris, and Earl Scruggs. The story evokes the folkie “saga songs” of the 1950’s and early 60’s. It’s about a misfit of a man married to the town beauty queen who, without actually cheating, starts consorting with another man—the Pilgrim. When her husband discovers this, he commits suicide in their presence. After years of suffering the disgrace of the scandal, the woman marries the Pilgrim, who has returned from his pilgrimage. The story line is strangely unsatisfying; it lacks drama. There is no adulterous act. The Pilgrim remains virtuous because of his ignorance of the woman’s marriage. The only action is a suicide by a seriously disturbed man who made the mistake of marrying out of his league. And then the story has a happy ending. Compare this with “The Long Black Veil,” a hit for Lefty Frizzell in 1959, or “Miller’s Cave,” recorded by Hank Snow in 1960. In the former, a man is hanged for murder because the only way he can exculpate himself is to reveal that he was in “the arms of [his] best friend’s wife” at the time of the crime. In the latter, a jealous man tracks down his no-good woman and her illicit lover: “caught her out one Sunday Morning, with a man they called Big Dave / Meanest man in Waycross, Georgia, I’d rather fight a mountain lion in Miller’s Cave . . . I said you’ll pay, both you and Dave / I must see you in your graves / They laughed at me and then I shot ’em / I took their cheatin’ schemin’ bones to Miller’s Cave / That woman made me feel unwanted, but I showed her I was brave / Most wanted man in the state of Georgia, but they’ll never find me ’cause I’m lost in Miller’s Cave.” These are stories with real drama, in which people pay a price for their acts, and happy endings would be out of place.

The Pilgrim‘s weak story line, however, is more than compensated for by some excellent mandolin work by Stuart and an intriguing use of guest artists. Who follows the “plot of a compact disc anyway?

Marty Stuart rose to prominence with a generation of performers who have been around for too long now to be considered “young” or “new,” the irritating buzzwords that accompanied their rise to prominence in the early 1990’s. This crowd has a well-deserved reputation for producing schlocky, middle-of-the-road music—more Wal-Mart than “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” However, this should not obscure the accomplishments of those performers who have made consistently good music. Stuart is one of the few of his generation with a fair amount of mainstream exposure (in radio play and Nashville Network appearances) who is ready to shed his status as junior partner to the legendary performers and assume his place as a star in the hillbilly cosmos.