Southern rock is more than just a sound or a state of mind—it’s an ethos, inspired by rebellion, devil-may-care swagger and a heavy dose of bluesy romanticism. Going on 20 years now, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley have praised iconic groups like Lynyrd Skynyrd while flouting the dark underbelly of conservative politics in the South, but rarely with the bled-through conviction of American Band. Hammering the point home, Cooley’s “Ramon Casiano,” named for a Mexican teenager murdered in 1931 by future NRA leader Harlon Carter, kicks off the album with a stinging indictment of border obsessions, while Hood’s “What It Means” protests the racial injustice behind the killings of Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin. Like “Guns of Umpqua,” “Surrender Under Protest” and the riveting “Ever South,” the overarching theme here is topical and tendentious—and yet the music never takes a back seat. Whether they’re laying down a Stones-worthy honky-tonk (“Kinky Hypocrite”) or a spooky alt-country groove (“Baggage”), the Truckers deliver with a sharp, teeth-gritted focus—thoroughly undaunted, if not outright angered, by the awful events that moved Hood and Cooley to take a stand in the first place. In today’s soundbite-driven culture, that’s saying something.