John Hiatt and the Goners

Rock music for the graying set has hit a grisly stretch. VH-1 has moved on. The first punk generation is still touring, but to smaller and smaller crowds and often as the oldest people in the house. Meanwhile, those god-awful PBS “rock” reunion shows seem bent on proving that, by age 45, middle-class Americans can’t shake their asses or even clap their hands in a meaningful way.

John Hiatt flies fearlessly in the face of that syndrome, releasing a cranky album celebrating getting older (he’s fifty) with the best band he’s ever had — slide guitarist Sonny Landreth is back in the fold. Hiatt kicks off with the lines I do my best thinking/Sitting on my ass in “Uncommon Connection,” a song that officially files for a divorce from the current culture. Hiatt plays biting, gritty rock music about walking the dog (literally, not in the blues sense), slurping up lousy coffee and driving his daughter to college. Hiatt’s strategy works well, finding a heartbeat by recognizing what’s actually there — the musical equivalent of a reversed vasectomy. Getting older doesn’t have to mean giving up, and Hiatt’s ready to deliver that message in the form of a swift kick in the oh-so-tender.