Ray Wylie Hubbard

Ray Wylie Hubbard sounds like the smartest guy in the roughest bar you have ever stepped into. His music is a thick, greasy stew of swampy blues, low-slung rock and roll, and country storytelling that feels like it was dragged through the mud of a Texas riverbed before being recorded. There is a tactile weight to the sound; you can almost feel the heat and the humidity coming off the speakers.

What makes him truly distinctive is the way he marries 'endarkenment' with enlightenment. He will drop a line about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse right next to a joke about a redneck mother, delivered in a raspy, deadpan growl that suggests he has seen it all and lived to tell the tale. His guitar work, often featuring heavy slide and deep, rhythmic grooves, provides a primal foundation for lyrics that are surprisingly philosophical and literate.

Start with 'A. Enlightenment B. Endarkenment (Hint: There Is No C)' to hear him at his most conceptually sharp, or 'Crusades of the Restless Knights' for a masterclass in modern outlaw songwriting. He is the bridge between the old-school cosmic cowboys and the modern grit of the Texas music scene.