Michael Shane Borden & the Diesel Kings, Lucas Hudgins & the First Cousins, Shootin' Pains, Bobby Earl Smith, and Brandon Rhyder

Dale Watson's impending departure to Baltimore is about to leave a gaping hole in the local honky-tonk scene. His shows are models of economy and grace that navigate the depths of neon delight and despair without lapsing into cliché – in other words, big boots to fill. Watson himself helps ease the transition on Michael Shane Borden & the Diesel Kings' self-titled Gulftone effort, as he and Borden wax rhapsodic about Ginny's Little Longhorn on "Honky-Tonk Time Machine." The rest of the Diesel Kings' itinerary hits Fort Worth's legendary "Jacksboro Highway," Borden's childhood ("Daisy Red Ryder," for all you Christmas Story fans), and the tabloid rack for "Truckstop Confessions." Somewhere, Dave Dudley is smiling... Lucas Hudgins & the First Cousins take things indoors for Honky Tonk Illusion, which Hank and Lefty would recognize as the real thing straightaway. Besides a smoky baritone novices might mistake for Watson's, Hudgins likewise has a way with words: "You've got my heart in your glove box, and you're driving it all over town." Ouch... If you think he feels bad, get a load of the Shootin' Pains, the Dicks minus Gary Floyd and electricity but with punk nihilism to spare. "I don't care if you go to church when you still act like a jerk" won't win them many friends in the Bible Belt, but like the song says, "I Don't Care." The rest of Mean Old Moon is just as crotchety and critical, "An American/My God" especially, and closes with a fine bit of Celtic swagger on "Drink and Fight"... Stepping in with the hangover cure is former Firedog Bobby Earl Smith with the low-key, heartfelt Turn Row Blues. Smith's subdued South Plains twang suits the careful acoustic arrangements, thus TRB sounds like a bunch of friends getting together. It is: Lloyd Maines, John X Reed, Casper Rawls, Freddie Krc, former Elvis guitarist James Burton, and son of Champ Warren Hood, who shines on "Little Fiddle Lick"... Brandon Rhyder likes soldiers and back roads, and must love Reckless Kelly, but Conviction is too swamped with trite turns of phrase and musical detours to go much of anywhere. "Between Here and the Front Door" has potential in a Cross Canadian Ragweed sort of way, as does the swampy "Back Roads," but overall the album founders when it should forge ahead. What would Dale Watson do?