Before Hank Williams, songwriters tended to say what they meant though metaphor. But after Hank Williams, they were free to say what they meant. Recorded during a brief, five-year period of a brief, 29-years-long life, the music collected on 20 of Hank Williams’ Greatest Hits was not only the wellspring of modern country, but also rock ’n’ roll—and, to a certain extent, R&B and soul. Like balsamic vinegar reduced in a pan until it develops into something at once sour, bitter, earthy, and sweet, the music on Greatest Hits—which came to life between 1947 and 1952—took the barest of artistic ingredients and managed to activate the whole of the emotional palate: For the bold (whether by nature or by liquor), there was “Hey, Good Lookin’” and “Move It On Over.” For the lovelorn (ditto the above), there was “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” Meanwhile, “Jambalaya (On the Bayou)” presaged the ensemble-cast wildness of Bob Dylan, while the imagery of “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”—the whip-poor-will, the midnight train, the disappearing moon—remains one of music’s closest approximations of haiku. Popular song had covered this territory before—country, Broadway, Italian opera, German lieder. But none had gotten to the point as quickly or so urgently as Williams’ music. The inquest marked the singer’s death at New Year’s Day, 1953—mere months after the release of Williams’ last single, “I’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive.” Serious as he was, he always knew when to laugh.