John Hiatt

“So, tell me why you deserve this job?” John Hiatt jokes as I sit down across a borrowed desk in his manager’s Nashville office. But the joke is lost on me. It’s not until I’m back in Atlanta at the Paste office that someone explains this bit of office humor. At the time, my reaction was, “Crap. He thinks I’m some punk kid with little life experience and no sense of his history, and he’s wondering why he’s wasting his time with me.” Although I’m in my 30s, I suddenly felt like William Miller in Almost Famous, and I wondered if the squeaky voice of adolescence would emerge from the dark shadows. In that split second pause, I recalled the story of a reporter literally running down the road, chasing Van Morrison after he bolted due to the journalist’s youth. It’s all falling apart (I think) and I’ve just sat down. Fortunately, someone interrupted with a cup of coffee for Hiatt and we moved on.

My intimidation stemmed from more than Hiatt’s status as a songwriter’s songwriter. Sure, this 51-year-old has been playing guitar since he was 11, was a professional songwriter at 18, had his first hit (for Three Dog Night) at 22, and has released 18 (mostly) critically acclaimed albums over 29 years. Sure, he’s been covered by dozens of artists, from Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Willie Nelson to the Neville Brothers, Paul Abdul and Iggy Pop. Not to mention Bonnie Raitt with her comeback “Thing Called Love” or the title track to the B.B. King-Eric Clapton Grammy-winning collaboration, Riding With the King. Or his own Grammy nomination in 2000 for Crossing Muddy Waters. Or the fact that he gathered a legendary collection of musicians—Nick Lowe, Ry Cooder and Jim Keltner—for Little Village (and one of his solo albums before that).

More than all of that, it’s Hiatt’s life experience that intimidated, as if I were interviewing a younger (and, truth be told, more cerebral and sardonic) Johnny Cash. Hiatt’s struggle with alcoholism and drug addiction is famous;. within a two-year period in the mid-’80s, Hiatt had his first child, was dropped by his label, entered recovery and got divorced. Then his ex-wife committed suicide. It was the second suicide close to Hiatt; he’d already lost his brother. Newly sober, with a new marriage and the responsibility of raising a young daughter and a stepson, Hiatt brought a hard-earned maturity to his next record, the seminal Bring the Family, still regarded as his high-water mark by many critics and fans. Throughout 18 years of marriage and sobriety, Hiatt has consistently delivered his rare blend of seasoned wisdom, wit and magnanimity.

Hiatt’s latest release, Beneath This Gruff Exterior, continues that tradition and delivers Hiatt’s most consistent set since the trio of albums following his sobriety: Bring the Family, Slow Turning and Stolen Moments. (This is not to dismiss his intermediate works, especially The Tiki Bar Is Open, overlooked in a September 11, 2001 release date). Hiatt returns with The Goners, the core musicians for both Slow Turning and Tiki Bar that includes guitarist Sonny Landreth, bassist Dave Ranson and drummer Kenneth Blevins.