CEDAR FALLS - A punk metal venue would be the last logical place for a blues banjo singer-songwriter performance.

But it's the first choice for William Elliott Whitmore.

"To me, that's where the fun is," Whitmore says between tour dates in Louisiana. "I've played shows for a country-type audience, but a punk rock audience has got more energy. They're so open to anything."

Whitmore's rootsy strummings originate from his Iowa upbringing, which he'll revisit during a Dec. 6 performance at the Reverb in Cedar Falls.

Though the Lee County native enjoys the warm Delta air, he is very much looking forward to heading back north.

"Iowa is the center of my spiritual universe," Whitmore says. "Coming back to Iowa is a special thing."

Whitmore's tour aims to support his debut album "Hymns for the Hopeless," a striking, heart-wrenching lament that blends blues, country, folk and a sprinkling of rock.

"It's pretty much all autobiographical in one way or another," he says. "It's a concept record that deals with the death of my folks, how I'm dealing with that. The story of the record is life and death, the circle of things. It's all true."

At only eight tracks, "Hymns" plays a 35-minute genre hopscotch that highlights Whitmore's gruff voice from beginning to end. The gravely vocals are so distinct he could copyright the texture, yet he has been told before to take voice lessons.

The album also showcases Whitmore's varied influences, ranging from '20s Appalachian folkster Dock Boggs to country bluegrass legend Ralph Stanley, of "Man of Constant Sorrow" fame. He also cites Captain Beefheart and Minor Threat as inspirations.

"I first started skateboarding when I was 15 and with that I started reading Thrasher magazine," Whitmore says. "That attitude really shaped everything to come for me. I knew that if I was going to do anything in this music business, it wasn't going to be through the country scene, but through the punk rock scene. That's where the hunger is."

Whitmore's experimental sound allows him to appeal to a wide variety of fans: young and old, those who sport cowboy hats and those who display mohawks.

He remembers the first time he stepped in front of a crowd glittering with spiked collars, thinking he'd be booed off the stage or pelted with rocks when he played his first banjo chords.

But no such assault occurred. And Whitmore has since opened for dozens of hard-core metal and punk bands in America and Europe.

"I think people are ready for whatever, as long as it's got soul," he says.

"Hymns" is a simple expression of Whitmore's soul, in its subject matter and production. The record is primarily Whitmore's vocals and banjo. A few songs are spiced up with his friends' bass, organ or percussion.

The simplistic recording of "Hymns" is intentional. Whitmore didn't want to create anything he couldn't recreate on stage.

"I didn't want to put too many bells and whistles on the record," he says. "The main thing is live. Recording is secondary. … I love being in the studio too, but getting energy back from the audience - that's what the live show is all about."