There’s honoring a legend—and then there’s channeling one. When Lainey Wilson and Marty Stuart stepped onto the Ryman stage during the Opry 100 celebration, they didn’t just nod to Hank Williams. They brought his spirit back into the room.
It was quiet. Simple. And completely electric.
Under the warm glow of the Ryman lights, the two Opry members stood shoulder to shoulder and delivered a rendition of “Lost Highway” that didn’t feel like a performance—it felt like country music itself showing up to pay respects. And just to seal the moment, Lainey Wilson held one of Hank’s guitars. That’s not nostalgia. That’s history, humming in real-time.
A Song, a Guitar, and the Weight of Country Music’s Soul
Before the first note, Marty Stuart handed Lainey the guitar like he was handing her a sacred family heirloom. Truth be told, that’s exactly what it was.
Stuart, a longtime keeper of country music’s deepest traditions, didn’t have to say much. The gesture said it all. And Lainey? She looked like she was trying to figure out how to sneak the guitar offstage without anyone noticing.
Once they started playing, the room locked in.
“Lost Highway” is one of Hank’s most lonesome songs—a tune that aches with every line, something Rolling Stone spotlighted in their look at his rare radio show performance. Lainey’s voice, earthy and unpolished in all the right ways, wrapped around the lyrics like barbed wire. And when Marty came in with harmony, it felt like the kind of moment that only happens when two artists surrender entirely to the song.
The guitar had a warm, hollow twang that cut through the air with the kind of honesty you can’t fake. You could hear the age in the wood. It wasn’t just music—it was memory.
And when the final chord faded, Lainey grinned at Marty and said, “I gotta give this thing back now?” Everyone laughed, but no one really wanted her to.
They followed it with “Things a Man Oughta Know,” Wilson’s breakout hit. And somehow, it worked. The shift from a 1948 Hank Williams ballad to a 2021 country hit didn’t feel jarring—it felt like a handoff. A quiet reminder that country music, when done right, always comes back to the same truths.
No bells, no whistles. Just two voices, a borrowed guitar, and a song that still means something.
In a night filled with powerhouse tributes and big-name appearances, Lainey Wilson and Marty Stuart carved out a moment that didn’t scream—it whispered. And that whisper spoke louder than anything else.
Because when you play a Hank Williams song on Hank’s own guitar in the Mother Church of Country Music, you’re not just honoring the past.
You’re living in it.