Decades ago, before the first rock and roll idols turned music into a product, musicians played music the way cobblers mended shoes and carpenters built homes. It was a trade like any other job and men did it for work, for wage. Young men would pack their station wagons with gear and travel from city to city to play their songs. For these musicians, it was not only all they wanted to do but all they could do. They were not in search of fame or fortune. It was simply a life in music. Welcome to the world of Will Hoge. “I bust my ass every night, sometimes for $45 a pop,” he says. “I load my own gear, mortgaged my house to pay the band. But if you want it, you have to be willing to bleed.” Hoge’s sacrifices are second nature to him. He is what some refer to in the business today as a “career” artist, a dedicated, straight-talking guy more interested in longevity than a hit single, in building a fan base than winning a Grammy. Five years from now, you will not find him making sandwiches at Quiznos or copies at Kinko’s. He will be playing music. “In my mind I don’t have a choice. I want a career in music, and to me, a ‘career’ is not five years, but 35.” In life, and on his brilliant new album, Draw the Curtains, Hoge follows in the footsteps of musical archetypes like Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, Hank Williams, Van Morrison, Patty Griffin, Neil Young and Bob Dylan. These artists inspire him not just for their work, but for their approach to their art. They exist outside the traditional economic constraints of “success” and “failure,” and do their own thing on their own time. “They would all be playing music whether there was money in it or not,” says Hoge. “All of them would be homeless rather than do something else. In my mind, you’re either a musician or you’re not.” In a way, Hoge himself is homeless. That is, if you don’t think of a tour bus as home. That’s where he spends most of his time, 200 nights a year, zig-zagging the country, doing what the good Lord put him on this earth to do. He headlines most of those dates, but has also played supporting slots for the Black Crowes, My Morning Jacket and the Drive-By Truckers, among many others, as well as dates at Bonnaroo and the Austin City Limits festival. “I’m embarrassingly in love with rock and roll,” he admits. “It’s disgusting. We ride around and play rock and roll. On the bus after shows we listen to records and turn each other on to new music. When we get home we spend a little time with loved ones, but within about 72 hours of being home we’re back together listening to records again, or looking for guitars, or something. I can’t lie about it, it’s all-consuming.” So is listening to Hoge. Draw the Curtains, his first album in nearly two years and his fourth collection overall, is a tour de force of authenticity, covering sounds from country and roots to rock, soul and R&B. It’s music the way it was meant to be played, with a rock-is-my-life, let’s-hit-the-road attitude. “The thing we were able to do this time was not worry about the bullshit ‘what-sounds-good-on-the-radio’ thing,” says Hoge, who has recorded in the past for a major label. “You can’t chase a record. You get to the core, make it as good as you can make it and suffer the result.” Hoge appreciates the simplicity of the approach. “If it moves you, then it’s done. If it’s perfect—but you’re still not moved—then you’ve still got work to do.” “Washed By the Water” and “Silver Or Gold,” for example, gush with the passion and spirituality of Otis Redding-fired rock and roll. “Midnight Parade” resonates with the color and verve of early ’70s Springsteen. The rockin’ “Sex, Lies and Money” hints at the wryness of Warren Zevon. “Dirty Little War” emits the edgy frustration of Steve Earle. Throughout the album, the songs are roughly cut, with Hoge leaving the edges jagged. The basic tracking wrapped in 10 days, with post-production running just a few days after that. “There are imperfections on the record for certain. From a pop radio perspective there are things that would never fly. But ‘the chill factor’ kept us honest. Those chills became another member of the band in the studio. If they were there with us, we knew we were doing something right.” Hoge’s music is the unwavering sound of a born rocker. Hoge filters rock, soul, folk, blues and country through a prism of emotional authenticity. What emerges isn’t a reinvention of the wheel, rather something undeniable, and the very definition of a force of nature. It is the music a man makes as he approaches the peak of his craft. “Otis Redding is my favorite singer of all time. But he doesn’t sing about things no one else has sung. At first, the Beatles didn’t sing about anything original; they were just ripping off Little Richard. Muddy Waters borrowed from Robert Johnson. In the same way, ‘I love you’ is the most bullshit phrase in our culture unless you really mean it.” “And for it to mean something is all that matters. As a songwriter and performer, that’s all I can do – try to write good songs, plug my Telecaster into an amp, play the very best I can and hope good things happen.”