Wayne “The Train” Hancock – Any Old Time
Live from Jovita’s
Wayne “The Train” Hancock specializes in spinning the pain and suffering he derives from woman troubles into songs that make a body feel quite a bit different. It’s a wonderful thing to consider how typical tears in your beer songs don’t necessitate that any tears have actually been shed. In fact, most times, they feel the exact opposite, giving way to the elation that – despite all of the sadness that might be dripping out and spreading around on this evening, or making this day feel like a plow or an anchor – is the theme, as if there’s one less thing to worry about for the time being. The ties are cut and there is a certain separation, an amputation that will always leave a scar, but will eventually just remain as a tale to tell, something that was once vivid and stinging turning into a numb and distant afterthought. The female troubles that Hancock chronicles walk hand-in-hand with the long and sprawling road that he and the boys find themselves endlessly pursuing in a classic case of the allure that draws men with instruments, vans and buses in. The women are out there in a similarly endless supply, there for the meeting and the dalliances, the romps and the blurry conversations, but the real feelings are reserved for those special ladies back home, holding down the fort, raising the babies and waiting diligently for that bus or that van to finally bring their men back home to them. The wait and the road break spirits mercilessly and it strains everything to a point that something has to give. Hancock writes about the tough times and the women whose patience is honorable, but waning quickly before finally evaporating, the way one would write about full moons, knowing that, like clockwork, they’ll be coming back around again soon. There’s no getting away from the prelude or the consequences, no matter how hard anyone tries.