Van Zant – My Kind of Country
When you rise from the fire, there’s the danger of taking yourself too seriously. Then add the yoke of being the continuation of southern rock legends Lynyrd Skynyrd, and there’s a certain frozen-in-the-spotlight nature that seems inherent. For brothers Donnie and Johnny Van Zant — helming Skynyrd and .38 Special, respectively — it is a duty and raison d’etre. But rather than live on the glory of the legacy they embody, the pair look back…all the way back…to the blazing, raging trail set by Hank Williams when country could be out of control.
Van Zant’s bulked-up, sweat-stained brand of populist country reinforced with the swagger of southern rock, established on their gold-selling debut Get Right With The Man, made the duo icons for the common guy getting by. To that end, they maintain a certain arena-ish swagger on My Kind Of Country. Sinewy guitar lines rise and intertwine, the beats crash a bit harder, and yet somehow there is that sense of what-the-hell Saturday night party. And like the Camaro-drivers they serve, this is not deep music, but rather a plane where cliches serve as depth and a lagging beat mirrors the laconic nature of how good ole boys live their lives.
For the on-the-road swagger of “Train” or the realistic knowing-what’s-coming-from-having-already-done-it of “That Scares Me”, this is an honest expression of the way Van Zant’s world turns; there’s nothing nuanced or deeply revelatory. Some people live close to the bone and the surface; for them, My Kind Of Country is a treatise of how today’s country boys survive.