Drakkar Sauna pays tribute to troubled men

"He called Wallace a weirdo," Stolz says.

"Yeah, we gave him the CD, and he wanted two more. He called me a weirdo for not taking the money and tried to stuff cash in my hand." Cochran sounds at least a little honored. Asked if Charlie Louvin was flattered by Drakkar Sauna's tribute, he demurs. "I mean — maybe, but to assume he was flattered would require a certain amount of hubris."

Neither Stolz nor Cochran seems anything but proud of the abilities. "I only know five chords," Cochran says. "I never took mandolin lessons or guitar lessons, and that's usually apparent when we play." But they often doff their cowboy hats to other local performers and collaborators. They take compliments quietly, and remember bad reviews well. "We've gotten a couple of shit sandwiches," Stolz says.

But Wars and Tornadoes proves that Drakkar Sauna is good beyond gimmicks. It reveals the band's musical intuition and folk fluency and allows Cochran and Stolz to pay their respects to those who came before.