Band Of Heathens Q&A
By Richard Skanse
May 2008

Under ideal circumstances, any and all interviews with the Band of Heathens would only take place in a single room with all five Heathens present and accounted for. The in-jokes would fly fast and furious, with everyone riffing off of each other's tangents and freely hitching along on each other's trains of thought in the same way that the band's three songwriting frontmen swap verses and guitar solos over a solid but loose-limbed rhythmic bed of harmony laced, soulful roots rock. The end result would be a proper group portrait of the band as true-to-life as their 2006 debut, Live at Momo's , or last year's CD/DVD, Live at Antone's . Seasoned groove guru Ray Wylie Hubbard used this same five-guys-in-a-room method when producing the Heathens' brand new, self-titled studio album, effectively capturing the full organic seep and flow of the band's live show like the proverbial lightning in a bottle. Good thing, too, because anything less would have been a disservice to not only founding band members Gordy Quist, Ed Jurdi, Colin Brooks, Seth Whitney and relative “new guy” John Chipman, but also to all the fans who voted the Heathens “Best New Band” in the 2006-2007 Austin Music Awards.

Now, having acknowledged the way the Band of Heathens should be interviewed, especially in light of them being selected as LoneStarMusic.com's Artist of the Month to mark the occasion of the May 20 release of the aforementioned Hubbard-produced studio album, what follows is unabashed heathenism. Due to the band's understandably busy schedule of late (goes with the territory of being one of the hottest bands in town), we were only able to catch up with two of the five Heathens — singer-songwriter/guitarists Quist and Jurdi, and we had to make due with talking to them one at a time. We talked to Quist via a very shaky cell-phone connection (“Can you hear me now? How bout now? Reception's good here, but the music's really loud …”) minutes after the band finished its set at Larry Joe Taylor's Texas Music Festival, and we connected with Jurdi via a more stable connection during the band's ride back home to Austin. But nobody needs to know that, so let's all just pretend that we did conduct the following interview with the whole band in attendance, albeit with third singer-songwriter/guitarist Brooks, bassist Whitney and drummer Chipman all pleading the Fifth, refreshing their drinks or sneaking off to the little Heathens' room during the portion of the interview presented here. Yeah, it's a stretch, and it's definitely not the Heathens' way, but just play along and we'll all get through this together. . .

Read Richard Skanse's full interview with
some of the Band of Heathens

 

Old 97's
By Lynne Margolis
April 2008

For a guy who rocks out with what seems like such reckless abandon, Rhett Miller, Old 97's' lead singer and songwriter, really sounds more like a mild intellectual than a Dallas native with a wild streak, a Replacements-rooted musical sensibility and a love for Texas twang, British beats, fuzzed-out punk and power pop. He's a responsible husband and dad who takes care of the kids while his wife naps; who finds peace and sanity on their 3-1/2-acre Hudson Valley spread, an hour and a half outside of New York City. He talks about his bad-boy days, but he also was a top student who earned a scholarship to the elite Sarah Lawrence College (which bandmate/bassist Murry Hammond talked him into giving up in the name of pursuing their rock ‘n' roll fantasies). Clearly, he didn't need a B.A. to write the kind of clever, relentlessly hummable tunes that characterize Old 97's' output: “19,” “Murder (Or a Heart Attack),” “Jagged,” “Time Bomb,” “Rollerskate Skinny,” “Up the Devil's Pay” … even “Oppenheimer,” a song about falling in love on a street named after the father of the atomic bomb, is impossible to scrub from the brain's running soundtrack once it lodges itself there.

Fifteen years into his music career, he's still with the same bandmates (the others are lead guitarist Ken Bethea and drummer Philip Peeples ) and still gets excited about the music they make together – which, on the upcoming release, “Blame It On Gravity,” contains more of the instantaneously connecting melodies and lyrics we've come to expect from this foursome. They may have named themselves after a train wreck, but they've never sounded like one – despite those loose-sounding arrangements that sometimes seemed like they could derail at any moment. The fact that they didn't is proof of just how tight they really were, but this time around, under Salim Nourallah's production, the music's so taut, it bounces like a trampoline – and jumps with the same sense of adventure. And the guitar work … well, Miller rightly says Bethea has hit a career peak; whether he's twangin' or rockin' – or both – it's nothing less than sterling throughout.

Read Lynne Margolis' full interview
with Rhett Miller of Old 97s

 

Aaron Watson Q&A
By Lynne Margolis
March 2008

Aaron Watson's a talker. During a 40-minute interview, he went pretty much a mile a minute the whole time in his charming Amarillo-honed accent, with which he declared straight out that he's a good ol' boy and likes hangin' out with other good ol' boys. In the best Texas tradition, of course. Whether it's hip or not to admit that anymore, he doesn't care. To him, it merely means friendly people who take care of their own. It's the way he feels about his fans, too. He wants them as friends – as people who like him enough to come to his shows and chat awhile afterward, too. Who look forward to seeing him when he shows up, and vice versa – and who will understand when he steers the bus off the road semi-frequently to spend time with his wife and future baseball-star sons, Jake, 23 months, and Jack, 4 months.

Our interview tallied up at an incredible 4,700 words – one of my longest ever – and I asked about six questions the whole time. It's great when an artist has lots to say and knows what it is (except when your fingers start to hurt from all that typing!). Then again, I've noticed talkin' a lot is a Texas good ol' boy thing. We started out discussing an itinerary that included six upcoming nights off, about which he declares, “I'm pretty excited. I'm goin' home to see my baby boys.” His accent is on “baby” – the first syllable. It's a colorful, musical way of talking. Just like Aaron, himself. I didn't even need to wind him up. He just jumped in and, like the Energizer Bunny, kept on going and going.

Read Lynne Margolis' full interview with Aaron Watson

Paul Thorn Q&A
By Lynne Margolis
February 2007

“Paul Thorn may be the best kept secret in the music business. He and writing partner Billy Maddox turn out songs like a Mississippi Leiber & Stoller that put me in mind of Harry Crews creations – absolutely Southern, absolutely original, full of heart and humor and surprises and streetwise details of trailer parks and turnip greens and love and lust that have the unmistakable ring of truth. And he sings them with the soul and pure joy of a true artist.” — Kris Kristofferson

That description is as good as any for this son of a Pentecostal preacher who began singing at tent revivals and collecting coins in a tambourine at age 3. Thorn learned early on how to turn every Southern-culture-on-the-skids experience into alternately hilarious and moving tales of trailer-park lust, lover's vacations, dying heroes, undying love, damnation, salvation and the many roads to redemption, all dressed up in righteous rock ‘n' roll. His set-ups and songs are delivered in full-on Southern hick mode, but don't let his Tupelo, Miss.-born cornpone accent fool you for a minute. He's a serious student of human nature whose preacherman cadences and rise-up messages really will grab your soul.

Read Lynne Margolis' full interview with Paul Thorn

Matt Powell Q&A
By Lynne Margolis
December 2007

“Songwriting is all I really have. It's the only thing that can't be taken from you. In the grand scheme of the world, it's my only stock; the only proof that I've ever existed at all. People come in and out of your life. Bands play and break up. Record deals go south. Promises get broken. Friends and lovers pop in and pop out but the songs survive. I can remember a song and for a little bit it takes me back to the time when I wrote it. You can sugarcoat anything with anything: fancy vocals, tons of instruments, lots of lights, a video, but at the end of the day it's the song that really matters.”

Matt Powell has been a musical presence in Austin since his arrival nearly a dozen years ago. Yet, like so many musicians, he's still struggling to make ends meet as an artist. So he's doing what several of his peers have done – he's packing up his gear and heading down that well-trodden path from Austin to Nashville. The former surfer – he left behind his beloved Outer Banks, S.C., to follow his muse – is hoping to catch a wave of momentum with the release of his latest album, New Kind of Something .

Drawing from many musical styles, Powell has crafted a fine album of tunes best described as Americana; New Kind of Something both draws upon and encapsulates his pop leanings, his love of bluegrass and some grounding in blues, country, rock, folk and just about any other roots-music form. He can't put his finger on an exact description because, he says, “It's still shaping into its own thing.

Read Lynne Margolis' full interview with Matt Powell

Doug Sahm
San Antonio, TX
November 6, 1941 – November 18, 1999
by Michael Devers
November 2007

LoneStarMusic.com was not quite a month old when we received the news of Doug Sahm's passing. The shock and grief throughout the Texas music community was both widespread and deep. In the years that have followed as the Texas music scene has expanded we have seen Sahm's influence and stature continue to grow. Not only with veteran Texas artists who've been around long enough to have caught a Sahm gig, but also artists who have just recently played their first gig. In 2002 the Bottle Rockets recorded a full disc of Doug's songs (the Songs of Sahm), Bruce Robison's most recent title track is a tribute to Sahm, and just a little over a month ago when asked during an interview for the ACL Fest what he thought of first when he thought of Texas music, newcomer Mario Matteoli (formerly of the Weary Boys) answered, “Doug Sahm needs a statue on Town Lake!”. And that's just the tip of a very large iceberg.

With today being Doug's sixty-sixth birthday we felt it was high time to feature Doug Sahm and create a new tradition. November 6 th will from here on out be celebrated as Doug Sahm Day here at LoneStarMusic.com. For those of you who may be wondering what the fuss is all about – ladies & gentlemen, Mr. Doug Sahm:

Read Michael Devers' full article on Doug Sahm

Ryan Bingham Q&A
By Michael Devers
October 2007

It is undoubtedly premature and perhaps even silly to compare Ryan Bingham to Woody Guthrie at this stage of his career. Woody Guthrie is an American legend, having influenced artists like Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Steve Earle and having written one of the most memorable songs in our nation's history. Ryan Bingham has previously released three independent discs (mostly out of print) and has just put out his major label debut, Mescalito, and is unknown to 99.x% of the US population. But the similarities between the two at the same stage are striking.

Woody grew up with a fractured and difficult home life in Okemah, Oklahoma and didn't learn to play guitar until he moved to the Texas panhandle town of Pampa. After limited success in Texas, Woody relocated to Los Angeles where he was embraced and people began to take notice of him and his honest songs documenting the times and the life of the working people (with an occasional cowboy song in the mix). Woody was a hard traveler with a magnetic personality and he was embraced from people of all walks of life almost immediately upon meeting them.

That same kind of instant likeability has served Ryan Bingham well. He once took a trip with promoter John Dickson to a town in Louisiana where he knew no one, decided to stick around a while, and was leading the town parade one week later. Bingham also faced a difficult upbringing full of uncertainty, bouncing between West Texas and Hobbs, New Mexico. He learned to play guitar and write songs while on the rodeo circuit with the many nights spent sleeping in the back of pickup trucks in a dusty rodeo arena adding a gravel to his voice. He left the rodeo circuit to pursue music full-time and after kicking around Texas for a few years, he decided it was time for a change. He and band mate Matt Smith left for Los Angeles where the circumstances that led him to becoming label mates with Willie Nelson and that “other” Ryan (Adams) were almost immediately set in motion. With Mescalito featuring such stellar songs as “Bread & Water”, “Dollar A Day”, and “Hard Times” it's clear that Bingham has a gift for translating the struggle of average working people as well.

Plenty of other artists have started off with great potential only to end badly so only time will tell if Ryan can build on the promise he's shown and someday earn the Guthrie comparisons. For now a great debut record and an eagerness to drive sixteen hours for two hundred dollars and a chance to promote that record is a strong beginning.

LoneStarMusic sat down with Ryan shortly before the album was released to talk about the new record, how he got there, and that fateful coin flip that occurred as the 2006 MusicFest drew to a close.

Read Michael Devers' full interview with Ryan Bingham

 

Kevin Fowler Q&A
By Lynne Margolis
September 2007

Kevin Fowler doesn't just emulate country music's proud good ol' boy image of a hard-drinkin', hard-drivin', heart-breakin' he-man. He embodies it. Right down to his big, thumb-hookin' belt buckle, hair-hidin' hat, thirsty Ford pickup truck, lost ‘g' lingo and a repertoire saturated with songs such as “The Lord Loves the Drinkin' Man,” “Loose, Loud & Crazy” (the namesake tune of his last album); and “Bring It On” (the title of his latest). Then there's that “100 % Texan” independent streak, which led him to self-release his first several albums before signing to Houston native Clint Black's Equity Music Group label – an independent, of course – before recording “Crazy.”

And don't forget his huntin' and fishin' habit. Hell, he's even got a special Web site, www.kevinfowleroutdoors.com , for fellow fans of catchin' critters. And instead of cruises and ski trips, his followers can sign up for a huntin' excursion on a Texas ranch, where they can all join the “Drunk-Ass Redneck Choir” as Fowler sings one of his hell-raisin' anthems, “Beer, Bait & Ammo.” (Visualize your favorite little bell-tingling-on-a-wooden-screen-door, last-stop-before-the-edge-of-civilization shop here.)

But hold on there just a minute, pardner. Does a guy who takes his wife and three girls – ages 13, 6 and 4 months – out for sushi on a Wednesday night in Austin sound like a drunk-ass shit-kicker to you? How about a guy who writes a love song as sweet as “Bring It On's” “Best Mistake I Ever Made” – inspired by one of his own little gals? Or a guy who so adores his country icons, he'd turn the line “don't touch my Willie” into a tune about his reverence for Mr. Nelson?

Perhaps that's the secret to balancing the yin and yang of being Kevin Fowler: don't ignore your sweet side, and don't take any of it – including yourself – too seriously.

Read Lynne Margolis' full interview with Kevin Fowler

Bleu Edmondson
Q&A
By
Michael Devers
August 2007

Bleu Edmondson has always been something of an enigma in the Texas Music scene, a fact that even he acknowledges with the very first line of a recent bio – “You really can't tell what you just saw after seeing The Bleu Edmondson Band perform live.” Bleu burst onto the Texas Music scene with his debut CD Southland in 2001 and very quickly recorded his second CD, The Band Plays On . The disc would hint at Bleu's willingness to take chances with a title track that became a Texas radio staple despite clocking in at six plus minutes (daring), a lead track, “Southland”, that should have been the title track of his first record (confusing), and whereas most Texas artists will throw on a Guy Clark or Townes tune, Bleu chose to cover a Harry Connick Jr. song (unpredictable).

Despite the success of his first two CDs and a tremendous live following it would be another four and a half years before Bleu would return to the studio to start work on his third album of all new material. In between he released a live recording ( One Voice ) and did so in true Bleu style. The disc is raw and full of energy, with none of the overdubs or studio-sweetening of so many “live” recordings these days.

Bleu would take that “here I am for better or worse” spirit with him into the studio for Lost Boy , by far his most daring and introspective work to date and in this writer's opinion the best work he's done period. Bleu took some time from a rare weekend off to speak with LoneStarMusic.com about Lost Boy and what the future may hold for Bleu and the band.

Read Michael Devers' full interview with Bleu Edmondson

 

 

We're barely two months into it, and already 2007 is shaping up to be the best year ever to be a Joe Ely fan. Provided, that is, that you can keep up with him. On Feb. 9, Ely will celebrate his 60 th birthday with the release of his most rockin' album in more than a decade, the more-fun-even-than-its-title Happy Songs from Rattlesnake Gulch. It's his first release on his brand new independent label, Rack 'Em Records (a fitting handle, coming from a guy who once assured us “you'll lose your ass” if we were ever drunk or foolish enough to challenge him to a game of pool). That same day will also see the release of his first book, Bonfire of Roadmaps . Published by University of Texas Press, Bonfire is a collection of Ely's private journals culled from a lifetime on the road — nine mini-epic, free-form “rambling poemblogs” documenting not only highlights and lowlights from the journey of one of the last true American gypsy troubadours, but also offering what fellow Lubbock-bred maverick Terry Allen has approvingly called “a glimpse into the heart of music.” Fittingly, all of the songs on Happy Songs from Rattlesnake Gulch were originally written (and in some cases, recorded) during the same span of time as the journal chapters featured in the book — roughly from the end of the Vietnam War up to hurricane Katrina.

But wait! There's more! On March 6, Ely will issue his second Rack 'Em release, an acoustic CD called Silver City (Pearls from the Vault VOL. 1) comprised entirely of songs he wrote way, way back before the Flatlanders were even a notion , much less a legend or a band. Two of the songs — including the title track — have appeared on earlier Ely albums as full band tracks, and “Indian Cowboy” popped up with a Butch Hancock vocal . . .
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Joe Ely

For some listeners, the release of Billy Joe Shaver – Greatest Hits on Compadre Records (Shaver's first greatest hits compilation) will be somewhat of a revelation. Scanning the list of 18 studio and live tracks – including two previously unreleased cuts – will be a eureka moment for some longtime and fledgling fans alike when they recognize the titles of songs recorded ages ago by Willie Nelson or Johnny Rodriguez, or perhaps ones they have heard performed recently in concert by young artists paying homage to the Godfather of Honky Tonk.

Though he has never been as well known among casual music fans outside of Texas as the bigger stars who recorded his tunes – everyone from Waylon Jennings to Elvis Presley – he has always been a songwriter's songwriter. And he's definitely an artist who lives up to the oft-used “authentic” label tossed around in alternative country circles, a musician who has felt the pain or joy of which he sings.

With time healing a small portion of the hurt from multiple personal tragedies – his mother, wife and son Eddy passed away between 1999 and 2000 – Shaver did enjoy a memorable 2006. (Eddy, by the way, posthumously teams up with his father on electric guitar in the cut “Step on Up.”)

He was inducted into the Texas Music Hall of Fame in August and then, on Oct. 13, with ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons presiding, Shaver married Wanda Lynn Canady, for the second time. Unfortunately, the boisterous senior citizen cracked a vertebra in his neck during some “Indian wrestling” hi-jinks with a buddy after the wedding, and is still under medical treatment.

During an interview with Lone Star Music, Shaver says the CD is a chance for him to revisit some old friends, and in the process, he realized that his writing style really hasn't changed much at all, from decade to decade. Unlike many rock and roll stars, who may seem rather silly playing songs about teen-age pursuits, Shaver's lyrics have an aura of timelessness and carry enough emotional weight that they still seem poignant. And best of all, Shaver says he can't wait to write some new ones. It's what he was put on this earth to do.

Read Gregory Barr's full interview with Billy Joe Shaver

Mike McClure Q&A
By Gregory Barr
December 2006

As a sought-after producer and songwriter, Mike McClure has spent years putting his sonic stamp on top-selling CDs by the likes of Cross Canadian Ragweed and Stoney LaRue.

And now, more than a decade after his breakthrough stint with Oklahoma country band The Great Divide and more recently, after releasing several EPs and CDs of his solo project material, he has just finished up creating and polishing just the right sound for another artist he is very familiar with: Mike McClure.

With the release of his latest CD, Foam , McClure says the 11 tracks that made it onto the final product illustrate that he has finally reached the point where his songwriting fits the sound and technical skills of his three-piece band. So if McClure just happened to be a college quarterback, this would be the time his coach would drag out the football cliché and say that “he brings the whole package” to his latest album, which just might catch the music industry off-guard as one of the sleeper hits of 2006.

Few artists who appeal to both rock and country fans might be comfortable releasing a CD that is so deliberately diverse in its styles. Certainly Shooter Jennings, son of country music superstar Waylon Jennings, is one of the only other artists confident enough to try. While there are numerous alternative country, “red dirt” or Texas bands that blend rock and country riffs together, few artists would take such a disparate approach.

Read Gregory Barr's full interview with Mike McClure

 

Although just about every artist and band making a decent living on the Texas/Red Dirt music scene today can claim at least some degree of spiritual lineage with the “outlaw country” movement of the ’70s, the fact is that very few of them actually sound like they could have held their own with the Waylons and Willies of yesteryear. Sure, those boys from Oklahoma in Cross Canadian Ragweed and any number of young Texans from Pat Green to Randy Rogers have all done their part to carry on the independent fire first sparked by their maverick forefathers, providing a brand new generation of discriminating country music fans a welcome alternative to the watered-down stuff still being pumped out of Nashville. But let’s face it — you’d have to be higher than Willie in Jamaica to mistake such latter-day “Texas country” anthems as “17,” “Carry On” or “Tonight’s Not the Night” for anything that the rednecks and hippies might have grooved to at Nelson’s inaugural 4th of July Picnic back in 1973. They’d all stand out like Rascal Flatts at a Larry Joe Taylor Festival.

Now, before you cry blasphemy and get your autographed Ragweed panties in a wad thinking I’m comparing today’s Lone Star (and Okie) mavericks to Music Row Cheese Whiz … that’s not my point at all. As Waylon himself proved on both “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?” and “Bob Wills is Still the King,” you don’t have to sound just like your rebel heroes to be a rebel yourself. Change is good, because too much of the same old thing — even the good stuff — is the root of all mainstreams. And yet … for every new generation of outlaws, there’s still room — and a need — for at least one true traditionalist. Back in the heady daze of Austin in the early ’70s, it was Asleep at the Wheel, who did sound just like Bob Bills and continue to fly the Western swing flag in the 21st century. In the ’80s, while Lyle Lovett and Steve Earle were shaking up the Nashville status quo by attacking it from out of left field, George Strait and Dwight Yoakam each hit just as hard with their straight-up takes on Texas dancehall honky-tonk and the long dormant Bakersfield Sound. Austin favorites Dale Watson and the Derailers followed suit in the ’90s; they were unabashed traditionalists who sounded as far removed from the rest of the No Depression-worshipped alt-country crowd as they did from Garth and Shania.

Which brings to our Artist of the Month for November 2006, Jason Boland. You’ll have to pardon the big set-up, but Boland — who started his career in his native Oklahoma but now lives with his wife in New Braunfels — is such an anomaly on the current Texas music scene. . . more

Read Richard Skanse's full interview
with Jason Boland

 

Kinky Friedman Q&A
By Richard Skanse
October 2006

By his own admission, Richard Kinky “Big Dick” Friedman hasn’t written a new song in close to two decades. It’s been a few seasons since he last took the stage with a guitar, too — most notably for a run of dates with fellow raconteur Billy Joe Shaver back around the turn of the century; Friedman dragged his old friend along for the ride even though Shaver was staring down the barrel of double bypass heart surgery. Somehow they both made it back to Texas alive — Shaver to get his ticker fixed and to write more songs, and Kinky to do more of anything he could think of except songwriting. Someone, somewhere — a fan in Ireland, specifically — suggested off the cuff that he should run for public office. As it just so happened, Kinky had recently spent a long, dark night of the soul washed up on a beach somewhere in Mexico, during which he had one of those “moments of clarity” Samuel L. Jackson talked about in Pulp Fiction. He left on a mission to find a higher calling in life than just singing his decades-old satirical country songs, shilling salsa, penning uproarious mystery novels and knocking out the occasional column for Texas Monthly. Serendipitously, all this happened while it was coming up on time for Texans to elect a new governor. Kinky mulled it over a box of cigars or two and came to the conclusion that became the slogan that launched arguably the most colorful campaign for public office in Texas history: “Why the hell not?”

That’s the Cliff’s Notes version, anyway — bypassing, for brevity’s sake, the whole back story of Kinky’s origins as a Chicago-born, Texas-raised, child chess prodigy son of a UT professor who chased a three-year stint in the Peace Corps (Borneo) with a wild and reckless career as the frontman of the infamous Texas Jewboys — arguably the most colorful (and unapologetically politically incorrect) country band in Texas music history. We can breeze past the whole Kinky-as-novelist years, too (during which he wrote about a colorful, unapologetically politically incorrect Jewish Texas country star turned private eye named — what else? — Kinky Friedman). Ditto his one previous trip to the political rodeo, running on a whim for Justice of the Peace in Kerrville back in the early ’80s (he didn’t win).

Read Richard Skanse's Interview with Kinky Friedman

Guy Clark Q&A
By Richard Skanse
September 2006

There's a scene in director James Szalapski's 1981 singer-songwriter/”new country” documentary Heartworn Highways in which Guy Clark is filmed in his Nashville workshop, fixing a friend's guitar. As he goes about his work — filing down the frets, squatting down to get eye-level with the newly repaired bridge — it's clear that it's a labor of love to him. Or at the very least, an immensely satisfying form of meditation. The appeal, Clark explains to the off-camera interviewer and film crew, is all in the meticulous details of the craft and the subtleties of the instrument itself.

“That's the whole thing about guitars,” he says. “That's why I like them … You can count on mathematics as far as the scale is concerned, but once it comes down to making them play right, every one's different. You know, they're really unique things, so you wind up treating every one of them different. And then when you work on them, you don't get bored. Which is one of my main aims.”

The whole scene, of course, is a metaphor for the man's songwriting. The word “craftsman” is never spoken, but it might as well be scrolled along the bottom of the screen in flashing letters. But that's OK. It's a great scene, as memorable as the one in which Townes Van Zandt brings a grizzled old blacksmith to tears by playing “Waiting ‘Round to Die” — or at least on par with the scene of Van Zandt pretending to be yanked down a hole by a ravenous, man-eating rabbit. And Clark of course knew what the filmmakers were going for, just as he surely knew just about every review or feature timed to the release his new album would contain the world “craftsman” — again — even if he hadn't named the record Workbench Songs. He's just plain stuck with it.

Read Richard Skanse's Interview with Guy Clark

Randy Rogers Q & A
By Gregory Barr
August 2006

Randy Rogers may have grown up the son of a preacher, but he has built up a reverent – and fervent – following on the Texas music scene by taking his band's authentic brand of musical gospel to the masses. And with the Sept. 12 release of his major label debut, Just a Matter of Time, Rogers seems ready to reap the rewards for his relentless touring and the countless hours of sweat equity he has invested in his career.

The 12-track CD, produced by Radney Foster, who was also at the helm of the Randy Rogers Band's acclaimed 2004 CD Rollercoaster, literally leaps out of the speakers with the hard-rocking, wall-of-sound opening track, Better Off Wrong, followed by the disc's first single, Kiss Me in the Dark. Combining intricate, breath-taking production values and memorable song-writing with hooks big enough to snare the proverbial five-pound bass with ease – not to mention a nuanced vocal performance by Rogers that easily transcends his other work – the CD seems already destined to secure a place on country music top-10 lists at year's end. For Rogers, the aptly titled CD, released on Mercury Nashville, puts him just where he dreamed he would be even back when he had finished his public relations degree at Texas State in San Marcos and began dabbling in music.

The new CD also reflects just how far the group has evolved. Already known as a tight-knit band, the individual players – Geoffrey Hill (guitar), Brady Black (fiddle), Jon ‘Chops' Richardson (bass) and Les Lawless (drums) – also get their chance to show off their improved musical chops, aided by Foster's arrangements.

Read Gregory Barr's full interview with Randy Rogers

 

Chris Knight Q&A
By Rob Patterson
July 2006

It's a LoneStarMusic.com landmark that Chris Knight is our spotlight artist this month. Unlike the other acts that have been featured and interviewed in this fashion, he's not from Texas, even though, if you listen to his music, he sounds like he sure as hell could be. And we'd be proud to have him. Instead, Knight hails from the one traffic light town of Slaughters, Kentucky. Yet he writes story songs that parallel the best from Texas songwriting icons like Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, Billy Joe Shaver and a host of others.

Prior to winning his first record and music publishing deals, Knight was a strip mine reclamation inspector who wrote songs in his spare time. But the 1998 release of his self-titled debut album on Decca Records signaled the arrival of a major new songwriting talent. Critics raved, comparing him to the likes of John Prine and Johnny Cash, but despite getting some play on Americana and Triple A radio, he lost his major label deal after Decca was folded into MCA/Universal.

Nonetheless, his music caught on in Texas more than anywhere else, thanks to heavy airplay on Dallas' KHYI for the song "It Ain't Easy Being Me." It remains after eight years the number one most requested song on the station, and helped spread the word on Chris Knight across the Lone Star State. Today, Knight is a frequent visitor and popular live act in these parts, playing some 60 dates a year in Texas.

Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Chris Knight

Ray Wylie Hubbard Q&A
By Rob Patterson
June 2006

Even if he had only written "Redneck Mother" - the anthem of the Texas progressive country movement of the 1970s that still echoes today - Ray Wylie Hubbard would be a true Texas musical hero. But after spending the better part of his twenties and thirties consuming, as he admits, enough booze and blow to give a buzz to a good-sized city, Hubbard got sober in the late 1980s and decided it was time to get serious about his art. He started delving into poetry, philosophy, spirituality and mythology and learned how to fingerpick guitar, and a whole new Ray Wylie Hubbard began to emerge. Anyone who heard his 1992 return to action, Lost Train of Thought , realized that the onetime wild man of redneck rock was ready to take his place alongside such Texas country-folk songwriting legends as Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark as an exemplar of the genre at its best. And his work has only gotten better with each album as he rebuilt his career via deals with the small Dejadisc indie label and then on the giant indie Rounder Records and steady gigging throughout the Texas music circuit and beyond, by which he also proved himself one of the most riveting performers in the Lone Star State (as well as a between song storyteller whose humor is so pungent and delivery so pitch perfect that you will laugh at the same jokes year after year).

Today, he is an icon to more than one generation of Texas musicians who have followed in his wake as well as the best advertisement for sobriety and the subsequent wisdom it brings. Happily living in a log home atop what he calls "Mt. Karma" in Wimberley with his wife and manager Judy (who is as beloved among Ray's friends and admirers as he is) and his son Lucas (who is turning out to be a killer guitarist), Hubbard has just released Snake Farm - his best and most rocking album yet - on the new Sustain Records label started by former Pat Green manager Jimmy Perkins via the largest major label group, Universal Music. Any callow youth who may doubt the adage about how life gets better as you age need only listen to Ray Wylie Hubbard and talk with him, as we do below, to know that it's true, and learn how keeping your artistic edge also keeps you young.

Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Ray Wylie Hubbard

 

Slaid Cleaves Q&A
By Rob Patterson
May 2006

Unsung, the new album by Slaid Cleaves, is one where he puts the accent on the first word in the term singer-songwriter. Though he's an acclaimed writer of songs in his own right, on it he does 12 songs written by other writers - all of them friends whose work he admires. On it, he performs songs by a number of his Austin peers like Karen Poston (whose "Lydia" he recorded on Broke Down), Chris Montgomery (who was in Aunt Beanie's First Prize Beets with Poston), Ana Egge, Steve Brooks and Peter Keane as well as his guitar player Michael O'Connor and Adam Carroll (who Cleaves calls his favorite young songwriter in Texas). The set also includes a number by acclaimed writer David Olney and songs by artists that Cleaves has run into in his travels like Graham Weber (who Cleaves inspired to move to Austin from Pittsburgh), Melvern Taylor and JJ Baron.

It's a brave move for Cleaves that works beautifully, standing beside his records of his own songs that have made him a popular artist on the national folk scene after he moved to Austin from Maine, where he grew up and first started performing. From his arrival in Texas, Cleaves was obviously a special talent as both a writer and, as Unsung proves, a singer as well. He won the New Folk competition at the Kerrville Folk Festival soon after his arrival in Texas and won a deal with Rounder Records that has helped win him an international audience. Though Cleaves is known as a road dog who spends a good bit of his time away from Austin on tour, his status as a beloved local favorite was proven by "Broke Down" - which he wrote with Unsung co-producer Rod Picott - being named Song of the Year at the 2001 Austin Music Awards.

Unsung isn't a "covers record," but rather a salute to and celebration of fellow writers whose work he enjoys and which inspires him. And it proves that whether it's a song of his own or written by another, Slaid Cleaves knows how to get to the very heart of a composition and deliver it in a way that touches listeners' souls.
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Slaid Cleaves

Radney Foster Q&A
By Rob Patterson
April 2006

It's almost ironic to think of Radney Foster as a musical veteran even after close to 20 years of making records, first with Foster & Lloyd and then as a solo artist, as well as writing songs recorded by Nashville stars like Keith Urban, Kenny Chesney, Brooks and Dunn and Sara Evans. Yeah, his hair may be graying, but he still boasts boyish good looks as well as a youthful exuberance in his records and performances. And he remains on the cutting edge creatively, no more so than on his latest CD, The World We Live In. Since Foster & Lloyd first came on the radio in 1987 with hits like "Crazy Over You," "Sure Thing," and "What Do You Want From Me This Time" as well as one of Foster's signature songs, "Texas in 1880," he's been one of the leading lights in bringing quality rock and pop influences into contemporary country without forsaking the music's roots.

His 1992 solo debut on Arista Nashville, Del Rio, Texas, 1959 , proved his continuing chart appeal with four Top 40 country singles, including "Just Call Me Lonesome" and - another one of his signature numbers - "Nobody Wins," which hit No. 2. After scoring a creative triumph in 1999 with See What You Want to See , Foster left the major label realm for the feisty Music City independent label Dualtone, where he continues to prosper, albeit in a different realm. The Del Rio native has also been one of the biggest Nashville boosters for young Texas artists like Pat Green and Cory Morrow, who he has written songs with, and the Randy Rogers Band, who he has produced two albums for.
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Radney Foster

 

Walt Wilkins Q&A
By Richard Skanse
March 2006

At a glance — and even on closer inspection — Walk Wilkins really doesn’t fit the profile of your everyday Texas country artist. At least, not the modern mold. At 45, he’s a good decade older than most of the big young dogs on the scene, including pack leader Pat Green. But you gotta wonder where Green and so many others who have come in his wake would be today if not for the quiet but profound influence of Wilkins and his songs. If Ray Wylie Hubbard is, as some young writers have called him, sort of an Obi Wan sage of Texas songcraft, then Wilkins kind of is, too; think of him as the younger but still wizened and battle-scarred Ewan McGregor to Hubbard’s Sir Alec Guinness. To wit: where most of the songwriters on the Texas scene today discovered guys like Jerry Jeff Walker through records handed down from their parents or older siblings, Wilkins was just old enough as a teenager growing up in Austin in the mid-’70s to see his heroes live and in their prime. Years later, when the upstarts back in Texas where grumbling about Nashville from afar, Wilkins was in the very belly of the beast, subverting the system by writing songs from the heart instead of by the book — and subsequently landing cuts of several of those songs on mainstream records. All the while, he still made frequent trips back to his native Texas, where, thanks in no small part to one of his biggest fans — Green — several of his songs had taken on anthem status: “Poetry,” “Carry On,” “Who’s to Say” and most notably, “Songs About Texas.”

But for all the success he’s had with other artists cutting his songs, any true Wilkins fan — Green included — will surely attest that Wilkins’ songs sound best when they’re done by Wilkins himself. His own records, like 2000’s Fire, Honey & Angels, 2002’s Rivertown and 2004’s Mustang Island, deserve pride of place in the collection of any self-respecting aficionado of Texas songwriters, or of great songwriters, period. His latest, Hopewell, is a quieter, more reflective. . .
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Walt Wilkins

 

WADE BOWEN Q&A
February 2006
By Richard Skanse

Not that we've kept an official record or anything, but here's an off-the-top-of-our-head rundown of some of the things that have happened since the last time Wade Bowen put out a new studio album (2002's Try Not to Listen ). Somewhere in the neighborhood of 879 new albums by other Texas artists hit the racks; that's just a guesstimate, but considering how many albums Willie Nelson alone put out in the last four years, probably not too far off. George W. Bush was elected president again, the U.S. invaded Iraq, the Dixie Chicks went from top of the country world to mainstream radio black lists and Los Lonely Boys went from San Angelo's best kept secret to Top 40 sensations. The San Antonio Spurs won two NBA titles, the Texas Longhorns' glorious Vince Young era came and went and the Astros made it to the World Series. And Jessica Simpson went from teen pop also-ran to household name (with a hit song featuring Willie Nelson).

Yeah, it's been a while. But Bowen hasn't exactly kept a low profile over the last four years. Contrary to the small town rumors that had him hanging up his guitar in exchange for a gig as an electrician, Bowen and his band — the later until very recently known as West 84 — have been working overtime to build and maintain their buzz on the Texas music scene from one end of the state to the other. (To wit: When we caught up with Bowen for this interview in mid January, he was en-route to Corpus Christi for a radio appearance, was looking forward to a night at home in New Braunfels, and was due. . .
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Wade Bowen

 

Jack Ingram Q&A
January 2006
By Richard Skanse

It really hasn't been that long since Jack Ingram released his last full-length studio album, 2002's Electric . But it sure feels like it — in part because so many of his peers on the Texas country/festival scene have been so damn prolific over the last five years, what with three studio albums each from Robert Earl Keen, Pat Green and Cross Canadian Ragweed, and not even Willie knows how many from Willie Nelson. It also feels like such a long time since Ingram put out a studio set because Electric was so damn good it whetted the appetite for more — and that five-track Extra Volts EP just didn't cut it.

But probably the biggest reason that it seems Ingram is long overdue for a new record is because the last four years have likely been the busiest of his career. Scratch that — the busiest, no doubt, of his life . Since Electric , Ingram and his wife have had two kids (with a third on the way). He's recorded three live albums, launched his own radio show ( Jack Ingram's Real. American. Music. Hour., originally on Dallas/Fort Worth's 99.5-FM “The Wolf” and now on XM Satellite Radio's X Country Station) and started the similarly themed “Jack Ingram's Real. American. Music. Festival,” which after three short years stands out as one of the best in Texas (it's held in September at Floore's Country Store in Helotes, outside of San Antonio). He also found time to star in the video for the CMA Award's “Single of the Year,” fellow Texan Lee Ann Womack's “I May Hate Myself in the Morning.” It's just hard to believe that same productivity hasn't resulted in him knocking out a slew of new studio albums to boot at a Ryan Adams-pace.

Well, the wait is over. Almost . Though he most certainly never went away, 2006 is going to be . . .
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Jack Ingram

Jerry Jeff Walker Q&A
By Richard Skanse
November 2005

In one way or another, Jerry Jeff Walker's always done his own thing. Back in the early '70s, when the native New Yorker built his reputation as the wildest of the wild bunch of Texas-based musical rascals eventually tagged as “outlaws,” he had already crisscrossed the country countless times as a folkie, rocker, street singer and professional restless gypsy. Even after finally settling — to use the term very, very loosely — in central Texas, he was still constantly on the go, flying to gigs in his own “Gonzo Air Force” jet and recording albums like 1973's legendary Viva Terlingua! and 1977's double live/studio opus A Man Must Carry On on his own anything-goes terms, even when he was still technically a major-label artist. So if ever there was a tried-and-true maverick artist who could get away with going completely independent, it was Walker. And in the mid-'80s, that's exactly what he did — jumping free and clear of the major label machine to found and run (with his business savvy wife, Susan), his own label, called (what else?) Tried & True Music.

Nowadays, of course, fans of Texas music put such high stock in a certain level of independence that artists are viewed a little skeptically if they don't stay as far off the mainstream radar as possible and at least start their careers on their own label; guys like Pat Green eventually signing with a major is one thing, but God help you if you debut on a major before selling out Gruene Hall on your own. But when Walker started Tried & True, it was still a novel enough idea to seem downright crazy. Two decades, a dozen self-released albums and one DVD (last year's The One and Only ) later, and its almost hard to imagine Walker running his career any other way. This month, to mark the occasion of Tried & True Music's 20 th anniversary, Walker's releasing a double disc anthology called The Best of the Rest , which collects the cream of the crop from five of his Tried & True albums: 1996's Scamp , the 1994 live album Viva Luckenbach , 1992's Hill Country Rain , 1991's Navajo Rug and the Tried & True debut that started it all, 1986's Gypsy Songman . We caught up with ol' “Scamp” at his home in Austin to talk about the new collection and the best of the rest of his plans for the coming months, including another 20 th anniversary on the horizon: that of his annual Birthday Bash in March.
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Jerry Jeff Walker

 

James McMurtry Q&A
by Rob Patterson
October 2005

James McMurtry is one of the premier Texas storytellers in song, and nowhere is that more apparent than on his latest album, Childish Things. Following on the heels of his smoking in-concert CD, Live In Aught-Three, it features some of his most finely etched portraits of characters living real and sometimes strange existences, marked by McMurtry’s mordant wit and gift for telling detail. The set also includes a rocking take on the old folk chestnut “Slew Foot” with Joe Ely trading vocals and a version of Peter Case’s “The Old Part of Town.” But the piece de resistance is his seven-minute long look at America today on “We Can’t Make It Here,” in which he details the failures of our government’s domestic and foreign policies with a keen eye for the problems our nation faces that rivals the best editorialists opining today. Recorded and originally released via his website in time for the 2004 presidential election, it is a song that is powerful and unflinching.

Greatness in the art of writing runs in the McMurtry family, as his father happens to be acclaimed novelist Larry McMurtry of “Lonesome Dove” and “Terms of Endearment” fame. Born in Fort Worth and reared in Virginia, James McMurtry first appeared on the Texas music scene in the late 1980s, winning the Kerrville Folk Festival “New Folk” contest. He came to national attention in 1989 with his first album, Too Long In The Wasteland, produced by John Mellencamp and released by Columbia Records. Over five more studio discs prior to his latest, McMurtry has refined his talents not only as a writer but also a singer with a droll potency and a guitarist of great skill and impact. Leading his trio the Heartless Bastards, with Darren Hess on drums and Ronnie Johnson on bass, McMurtry has become known as one of the most powerful live acts in the singer-songwriter genre. With his razor-sharp lyrical eloquence and music to match it, McMurtry is one of the masters of the Texas songwriting scene.
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with James McMurtry

Cross Canadian Ragweed Q&A
by Rob Patterson
September 2005

If there was ever a band that embodied the “one for all and all for one” notion, it's Cross Canadian Ragweed. Although lead singer, lead guitarist and primary songwriter Cody Canada gets the lion's share of the press attention, CCR is a genuine democracy and a true band of brothers. The group members all grew up together in Yukon, Oklahoma, a small town they have at least somehow managed to redeem from the fact that it's also where Garth Brooks hails from. As indicated by the title of their latest rocking platter, Garage , CCR started out as a bunch of guys who loved rock and country playing for the fun of it and have since worked their way up to become one of the top acts on the Texas music scene (which, as we all know, includes the Lone Star State's northernmost county of Oklahoma).

These days, the band is at least one-half officially Texan, as Canada and dummer Randy Ragsdale now live in New Braunfels. Bassist Jeremy Plato was also living there before he moved back above the Red River to the tiny town of Calumet, and rhythm guitarist Grady Cross has been holding down the fort in Yukon all along.

Lone Star Music caught up with Cross, Ragsdale and Plato by cell phone as they were on the bus to a gig after a break from their relentless touring schedule while the CCR family expanded. . .
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Cross Canadian Ragweed

Cody Canada of Cross Canadian Ragweed Q&A
by Rob Patterson
September 2005

Okay, this is LoneStarMusic.com and Cross Canadian Ragweed is from Oklahoma. But we all know that Texans and Okies are soul brothers. As CCR’s singer, guitarist and primary songwriter Cody Canada notes, “Oklahoma is the biggest county in Texas.” And CCR are one of the biggest bands in the Texas music scene. Joining up together when they were all still in their teens in the tiny Oklahoma town of Yukon, they’ve built a career from knowing how to rock the house, country boy style. Five independent albums and hundreds of packed gigs stoked a buzz that rippled all the way up to Nashville and caught the ears of music business legends Tim DuBois and Tony Brown, who signed up CCR as one of the first bands on their new Universal South label.

CCR’s first eponyously-titled major label album proved that these feisty (if also friendly) OklaTexans weren’t about to go Music Row. And their latest, Garage, reiterates that point with a killer one-two set of punches of real Texhoma rock’n’roll. As the title implies, this 14 song set is all about rocking out just like they did when the band first started, albeit with a good decade . . .

Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Cody Canada
of Cross Canadian Ragweed

 

Cory Morrow Q&A
by Rob Patterson
August 2005

Cory Morrow is a man who needs no introduction to Texas music fans. Along with his college buddy Pat Green, Morrow has led the charge for a generation of new songwriters and music makers, helping build a large and loyal young audience who are devoted to Texas music and the acts that play it. Since dropping out of Texas Tech in 1993 and moving to Austin, Morrow has built a viable career as an independent artist, starting out playing small clubs for a handful of people and now packing some of the biggest venues in the Lone Star State.

Morrow also made news last January when he was arrested in Austin for driving while intoxicated and cocaine possession, a legal situation that still hangs heavily over him. But perhaps adversity might also be his best inspiration, at least if his fifth studio album (and first studio recording in more than three years) gives any indication. Aptly titled Nothing Left To Hide, it represents a great artistic leap forward for Morrow, signaling a new maturity and assurance in his craft. Produced by Keith Gattis, the album features Morrow’s best crop of songs yet recorded with a quality that matches the work of just about anyone out there making Texas and country music today. So even if, for Morrow’s many fans, it’s another CD from an old favorite, Nothing Left To Hide also introduces a new Cory Morrow whose music is ready to go national without at all forsaking his Texas roots.
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Cory Morrow

 

Randy Rogers Band Q&A
By Richard Skanse
July 2005

Five years ago, Kent Finlay — owner of San Marcos’ beloved Cheatham Street Warehouse — took a shine to a young up-and-coming singer-songwriter who began showing up at his weekly open mic night. Of course, this was not the first time Finlay had done such a thing; many a now-well-established Texas artist (Todd Snider and Terri Hendrix come immediately to mind) has acknowledged Finlay’s club, songwriter circle and encouraging words as instrumental components in the launch of their career. But Randy Rogers’ story is a little different, in that Finlay took the kid aside and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse: “If you get it together and get a band, I’ll give you your own night.”

“Without Kent,” Rogers has said in the past, “I would probably be an accountant right now.” Instead, the Cleburne-raised preacher’s son is now, a few whirlwind years later, officially the next-big-thing in Texas music, poised to follow Pat Green and Cross Canadian Ragweed into the major league.

Shortly after Finlay’s proposal, the still freshly formed Randy Rogers Band recorded and released its debut album: Live at Cheatham St. Warehouse. Rogers and company were soon well on their way toward joining the ranks of Texas’ most popular young country bands, capable of packing Cheatham (among other central Texas haunts) to the rafters by the . . .
Read Richard Skanse's full interview with Randy Rogers

Two Tons of Steel Q&A
by Rob Patterson
June 2005

From humble beginnings as basically the only rockabilly band in San Antonio, Two Tons of Steel has become one of the most popular party bands in the Lone Star State. And they've also taken the classic rockabilly sound and molded it into something all their own.

Originally a trio of singer and acoustic guitarist Kevin Geil, upright bassist Ric Ramirez and drummer Chris Dodds called The Dead Crickets, they became so popular in their hometown that the San Antonio Current added a "Best Rockabilly Band" to their San Antonio Music Awards for the group. Then they graduated to Gruene Hall, where they've been doing their "Two Tons Tuesday" shows all summer for 10 years now, drawing some 12,000 fans over the course of last summer. They've also played in Cuba - which inspired the song "Havana Moon" on their new CD - and just returned from their first trip to Europe, where they're already slated to return not once but twice in 2006.

Along the way the group changed its name to Two Tons of Steel and added electric guitarist Dennis Fallon and veteran steel guitarist Denny Mathis. They can be seen in the IMAX film "Texas: The Big Picture" and the documentary movie "King of a One Horse Town." And now signed to the roots music indie label Palo Duro Records, Two Tons of Steel have just released Vegas, produced by Texas legend Lloyd Maines. Lone Star Music recently talked with frontman and main songwriter Kevin Geil about how the band has taken '50s rock'n'roll and brought it into the 21st Century.
Read Rob Patterson's full interview with Kevin Geil

 

Robert Earl Keen Q&A
by Rob Patterson
May 2005

For the last decade plus, if one were to say "Lone Star music," the name that frequently would come to mind is Robert Earl Keen. During the 1990s, the Houston native who now makes his home in Bandera became a Texas favorite if not icon, thanks to songs that run from sharp humor to vivid stories to poignant emotional ruminations.

Keen started playing music at Texas A&M University, hanging out on the porch at the off campus rental house where he lived with his longtime buddy, fiddler Bryan Duckworth. Fellow Aggie Lyle Lovett would often drop by and play with them, as immortalized in the song Keen and Lovett co-wrote - called "The Porch Song" in Keen's zippy version of it and "This Old Porch" in Lovett's more ruminative take. He landed in Austin after college and began working his way up through the clubs, releasing his first album, No Kinda Dancer, in 1984.

On the advice of Steve Earle - who warned Keen that in Austin the women are too pretty and the pot too cheap - Keen moved to Nashville, but unlike such peers as Earle, Lovett and Nanci Griffith, he didn't win a record deal while there. So by the end of the decade, Keen was back in Texas playing the clubs again.

Albums like his debut, West Textures and a live record he made at Dallas's Sons of Hermann Hall marked a rising new songwriter on the Texas scene. And steady road work across the state gathered fans who identified with his very Texan tales. By the time of Bigger Piece of Sky in 1993 and Gringo Honeymoon the next year, Keen moved from a more folk-oriented approach to a country-rocking band sound, as captured next on No. 2 Live Dinner . Meanwhile he was becoming one of the most popular live attractions in the state, eventually holding his own festivals, the Texas Uprising, which will this year be held in Corpus Christi and Fort Worth over Memorial Day Weekend.

On May 10, he will release What I Really Mean, and the date has been declared Robert Earl Keen Day across the state. But of course, for many Texas music fans, it's always Robert Earl Keen Day, thanks to the way he has all but defined the Texas singer-songwriter ethos for the new century.

Read Rob Patterson's full interview with REK

 

Jimmy LaFave Q&A
By Richard Skanse
March 2005

“There’s something that I gotta say
It’s been needed for a long, long time
They say the truth can set you free
Let me say what’s on my mind …”

That’s Jimmy LaFave, working his trademark honeyed rasp to its fullest effect on the opening verse of “River Road,” one of the standout tracks on his new album, Blue Nightfall. It’s a love song, of course — being that love songs are one of the three things LaFave does best, along with God’s favorite Dylan covers and rollicking, Memphis-roadhouse-style rock ’n’ roll; but it’s also, handily, an apt summation of the Austin-based singer-songwriter’s recent phone chat with LoneStarMusic.com. Though not generally known as a loose cannon along the lines of say, Charlie “What, should I not have said that?” Robison, LaFave isn’t a guy afraid to speak his mind and speak freely on the subject of the state of Texas — and American — music. Or, one sus