Charlie Poole (1892-1931) was a hard-living, plain-singing, banjo-picking raconteur, amateur baseball player, mill worker, boozer, and bootlegger whose name may not be as well known as, say, 
Jimmie Rodgers or 
the Carter Family, but who nonetheless helped define what country music later became. 
Poole's recordings for Columbia Records, with a group he called the North Carolina Ramblers -- he was born and resided in the state -- have probably never been heard even by most who set foot in the Country Music Hall of Fame (he has yet to be inducted), but for a relatively small cadre in the know, 
Poole is a giant. 
Loudon Wainwright III is one of the believers, and along with producer 
Dick Connette and a handful of collaborators (including 
Chaim Tannenbaum, 
David Mansfield, and 
Geoff Muldaur), 
Wainwright built this album around both old songs associated with 
Poole and new ones that help move the 
Poole story forward for today's world. 
Poole was not primarily a songwriter; he took what he heard elsewhere and bent it to his will. But he had an inimitable populist style, a whole lot of attitude and charisma, and the kind of sly humor that a sly humorist like 
Wainwright certainly can embrace. Of the 30 tracks spread across these two discs, all but nine were found among 
Poole's own, relatively small catalog. (Those who want to investigate should pick up the collection You Ain't Talkin' to Me: Charlie Poole and the Roots of Country Music.) Without attempting to replicate the acoustic string band sound of the '20s and early '30s, 
Wainwright gets to the heart of songs such as "I'm the Man Who Rode the Mule Around the World," "Moving Day" (with 
the Roches on background vocals), "The Letter That Never Came," and "Mother's Last Farewell Kiss," tunes that 
Poole waxed and which, in the hands of 
Wainwright, manage to open a window into the Depression-era life while remaining viable to contemporary ears. A sprightly "The Deal," known as "Don't Let Your Deal Go Down Blues" in 
Poole's hands, features the always mind-boggling mandolin playing of 
Chris Thile, and seemingly the entire 
Wainwright clan (including 
Rufus and 
Martha on "Only Old and in the Way") aids elsewhere. 
Loudon's new songs are intended not so much to conform to 
Poole's style (although they do that, too) as to embellish upon it. "Way Up in NYC" tells of the trip that 
Poole and his band took up north to the alien big city to cut records for Columbia, while "No Knees" finds him wondering -- presumably before it killed him -- what effect all the alcohol is having on him. The set's opening number and title track, "High Wide & Handsome," is another paean to living the high life that 
Poole probably would have endorsed. If even ten percent of those who hear 
Wainwright's tribute to this criminally under-recognized pioneer seek out the originals, then 
Wainwright will have accomplished his goal. Those who don't can just bask in some first-class Americana. ~ Jeff Tamarkin