BY ZACHARY HERRMANN

When it comes down to it, Hank Williams was every bit as punk as Sid Vicious. So with that thought in mind, there's really nothing more natural than seeing a punk rocker age into a well-mannered country artist. Jon Langford has done it (alright, so The Mekons always had one foot in each circle, but let's go with it) and so did Neko Case, albeit years before anyone knew who she was.

At this point in John Doe's career, he's got a pretty equal claim to both punk and country. With legendary Los Angeles band X, he's got the former, with The Knitters he has the latter and his solo career has embodied the intersection of the two. But for all the quality work Doe has done as a solo artist - Forever Hasn't Happened Yet and A Year in the Wilderness are certainly nothing to scoff at - he's always sort of lacked that extra, exuberant kick he had with X.

That was until he met The Sadies. The collaboration - it's one of those "no duh" sort of unions that seems too perfect for words - yielded last month's Country Club, a pleasing set of country standards and a few John Doe and Sadies originals. It's the sort of song collection perfectly suited to the spanking clean, dinner theater atmosphere at World Café Live in Philadelphia.

But rather than mail in a well mannered, by-the-books set on Thursday night, Doe played to his assets. When you've got one of the most talented backing bands on the continent, it's probably best to take advantage of the opportunity and tear the paint off the walls. OK, so things never get that rowdy, on stage or off. What did go down was nearly 90 minutes of blistering country classics, a few X and Sadies numbers and just an all around fabulous set.

The Country Club selections were all cranked up a bit from the album versions - Patsy Cline's "Stop the World and Let Me Off" got Doe a-swingin' and a-dancin' and Johnny Cash's always welcomed "I Still Miss Someone" kicked the night off just right. Doe and The Sadies gave the faithful covers a little more room to breathe during the show, leaving plenty of room for Sadies' guitarists Dallas and Travis Good to beat the twang out of their instruments.

Like two, towering psychedelic sons from a James Burton affair, the Good brothers (who actually stem from the loins of Canadian musician Bruce Good) rattled off one solo after another, trading notes and vocals with Doe. Though it would have been nice to get a full Sadies opening set (Sarah Borges and the Broken Singles were pretty damn good concession), the band put their stamp on every song, in addition to taking the lead on a few of their own ("Tiger Tiger" was a definite highlight).

Doe seemed more than willing to share the spotlight with his comrades, all of whom he seems to have an honest rapport with. While introducing Tammy Wynette's "Til I Get it Right," Doe laughingly refused one fan's request to sing "Stand By Your Man," offering to leave that duty to some other, more adventurous heterosexual man. Before he could finish, Dallas stepped up to the mic and started in on "Stand By Your Man," the rest of the band filling in until the whole thing trailed off in chuckles.

There were many pleasant little surprises throughout the night - X's "The Have Nots" (which felt awfully appropriate given the state of the economy) and "The New World" fit The Sadies perfectly as did The Knitters' "The Call of the Wreckin' Ball," which closed out the night. Given the country occasion, some of the covers were less surprising but, thankfully, no less wonderful.

The Good brothers ripped through a rollicking take on Merle Haggard's "Working Man Blues," another one of the many highpoints of the night. For all the ace guitar work going on though, the downbeats played exceptionally well to Doe's country-crooner image.

Maybe what's most impressive in the way Doe has grown as a musician is how his voice has matured. He's only gotten stronger as vocalist over the years, allowing him to tackle standards like "A Fool Such as I."  

Webb Pierce's "There Stands the Glass," which Doe dubbed "literally ... the most crying in your beer song," got more than a few of the audience members on their feet, softly swaying to the music with their partners. It was the sort of moment most punk rockers probably don't get to see when they look out from the stage.   

[Photos by Zachary Herrmann]