Flanfire

When you think of Texas songwriters, a few names quickly come to mind: Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, Willie Nelson … and then everybody has others in their top ten.  But that is not an easy chore.  Do you include Buddy Holly?  Can a rock and roller make the list?  Is a Texas songwriter one who is from Texas and writes songs?  Or is it a person who writes “Texas songs” — and if so, what constitutes a “Texas song”?

Just for the record I will throw in one more name — and ask all of my readers to send me their own top Texas songwriter lists.  But before I get to the punch line here (and, yes, there IS a review of Kevin Higgins’ new CD, Find Your Shine, at the end of this story.  I will here and now say that Stephen Doster says this is one of the best records he has ever produced), there needs to be a little summary of how I got to Sunday night at Threadgills to see the legendary Billy Joe Shaver.

But where to start?  How about Wednesday night at the Amy Farris celebration show, where Dave Alvin, with tears in his eyes over the loss of “that red-headed brat,” playing like a man possessed (and Warren Hood sitting in for Amy on fiddle)?  Dustin Welch followed (as usual on Wednesdays), and Kelley Mickwee of the Trishas sat in with Dustin and I promised to make one of their two shows at Threadgills during the week.  Tidbit of value — piano player Scott Bucklin just moved down to Austin from Dallas and Dustin immediately got him to play in his band.  Worth the trip down just to see this guy (who reminds me a lot of Kevin Lovejoy).

I had also promised Molly Venter I would catch her “happy hour” show at Momo’s the next day, and it was easy enough to do, given that my pal Brett Randell played his first Momo’s show right after Molly.  Later, I stopped by Flipnotics, where Aimee Bobruk was hosting a bunch of songwriters, including herself, Jessie Torrisi (new CD out on October 29th at a show at Lambert’s), and Michael Hall (of the Wild Seeds).  Still later, I hopped over to the Hole in the Wall for the beginning of the farewell to Austin (and the entire US of A) tour for Jessie England, who is getting hitched and moving to Denmark (nice gig, eh?). 

Jessie’s band, the SNAFU Kitties, closed out the evening — upcoming is a CD release party that will be the actual going away party for Jessie.  Also on the bill were Jessie’s other band, Satellite or Slave,” which features Karla Mansour on guitar and vocals and Kim Vogelsang on bass and vocals.  Yeah, Jessie plays drums and sings (and slipped over to her keyboard for one song), and we all had a blast.  My other MAJOR reason for being there was to FINALLY catch a set from Lauren Gurgiolo and the Dialtons.  Lauren, who is playing lead guitar with Okkervil River, is an old friend who also plays mandolin and much more.  I know her through the Brothers Lazaroff and Elizabeth McQueen and such folk — and well remember a show some of those folk did out at the Cathedral of Junk. 

And thinking about Elizabeth leads to Willie (indirectly, perhaps) and thus to the subject at hand.  NOW I can get back to earlier on Wednesday (yeah, the same night I went to the Sessions at the Hideout!), when I was at Z Tejas to catch a set from Bill Carter, Will Sexton, and Stephen Doster — admittedly, these three Texas songwriters sang mostly other people’s songs.  But when Will and Bill were in Houston the other night at the Mucky Duck, they sang their own songs (even though my daughter asked me why Bill Carter was singing all of those “covers,” not knowing he had written so many songs she recognized).  [I have to specify that there may need to be a separate category for Texas FEMALE songwriters (we are SO blessed).]  And then there is this large in-migration of songwriters who move here, buy some cowboy boots, and develop a drawl (or not).

Now, moving on to Saturday night, I went out into the cold early to see Blues Mafia and Hector Ward and the Big Time at Tim’s Porch, then  stopped by Momo’s just to hang out.  Warren Hood was on stage, and he stuck around and sat in for a few songs with the handsome Dan Dyer, who was showing no visible effects from having most of his gear stolen earlier (in the day, or in the week, I forget).  I do know he and his band mates (Mark Williams, aka Gum B, on bass and cello, and Micheal Hale on drums) played the best set I have ever heard them play in the midst of this adversity.  Next time you stop by Momo’s, toss a dollar or two into the bucket for the Dan Dyer stolen gear fund.

But back to the Trishas — Savannah Welch just happened to be at Momo’s that evening with a couple of friends from her movie career, and once again I reminded myself that I had already missed the Trishas’ Friday show and had to get to the Sunday event — and I am glad I did.  Some of my favorite Billy Joe memories include one night at Threadgill’s when Brennen Leigh and brother Seth got to sit in and sing along on “I’m just an old lump of coal, but I’m gonna be a diamond some day,” and that night at the Broken Spoke with Kinky Friedman and Little Jewford along with Jesse Guitar Taylor — just a couple of months after Eddy Shaver’s untimely death on New Year’s Eve 2000.\

Nearing seventy, Billy Joe showed an eager Threadgill’s crowd that he is hardly an old man — dancing, singing a capella, admitting forgetting some lines to a brand new song, joking about drummer Jason MacKenzie being late to the gig, and belting out brand new songs that have the same fire and power as the ones he wrote decades ago.  First-timers included members of the Trishas, members of Stonehoney (whom I had just heard at Threadgill’s Old No. 1 for the bluegrass brunch), and members of Rosemary’s Garden, a rock band from southern California who were playing the Saxon later that evening and who missed their gig the night before at Momo’s and had the further insult of having their vehicle and trailer towed.  But what’s a little money when you end up watching a legend — a man I never get tired of going to see.  A man who just has to be one of the top Texas songwriters of all time.

KEVIN HIGGINS – Find Your Shine

All of which leads us to Kevin Higgins — better known, perhaps for his work with the Dust Devils (formerly the Cosmic Dust Devils), a band whose other lead singer is Barbara Malteze.  Kevin and Stephen Doster assembled an impressive array of musicians to help out — J. J. Johnson on drums, John Gammil on bass, John Leon on pedal steel, Chip Dolan on organ and accordian, and Warren Hood on violin and mandolin.

The liner notes for this record (written by Rob Patterson) state that Doster says of Higgins, “If William Faulkner was from West Texas, played guitar and wrote songs, they might sound like this.”  Patterson adds that, “Higgins ascends to the pantheon of eloquent and evocative American singer-songwriters [he should just say Texan] with that rare grit for articulating the fullness of human experience within splendid and alluring melodies.”  In short, Mssrs. Doster and Patterson envison Higgins as one of the real Texas troubadours — a man whose characters are “like painted portraits.”

But that’s what others are saying.  Doster told me it is important to listen to this record when there is nothing to distract you from its sheer beauty and poetry.  True right.  I recommend a late night snack after everybody else has gone to bed and the telephone will not ring.

This recording runs like a symphony — maybe like Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition” –or perhaps like Aaron Copland’s ballet, Rodeo.  Which is to say, this is a song cycle that paints a consistent portrait of rural America and real people searching for a little joy.  As such, each song is like a movement in the symphony, as Higgins takes us on a journey down “Blue Highways” and byways to show us that we have a wonderful country in which to “Find Your Shine” if we will just go where the wind takes us and learn how to love those whom we meet.  [Funny, Billy Joe says the same thing.]

The very first song sets the mood — “Way out in the fields, what once was a treasure, now just pieces of steel….”  these words describe the fears of those facing the horror of a tornado as it touches down on a “small farm in Nebraska that God had spared today.”  Already you realize that this is powerful stuff — Doug Burr powerful, but even more Texas traditional.  Gentler than, say, Steve Earle, more serious, say, than Robert Earl Keen, and much more hopeful than, say, James McMurtry.

“Monahans” opens with a memory of “my sweet West Texas girl,” whom our hero laments that, ”you grab ahold of something good and it’ll slip right through your hands.”  John Leon’s pedal steel and Malteze’s piano define this tune, which opens at a Dairy Queen in a small west Texas town.  “West Texas Aggregate” is about his brother down at Ray’s Garage where he hardens his heart and works on his muscle car — and much more.  Higgins sings, “This is my home, this is my place, these are my people, descending from grace” — with shuttered storefronts and every make and model car parked outside the bar because misery loves company.

“Curtains” (again the piano and pedal steel) laments the end of a family, “always seems like a long time, always seems like a dream to me now as our home becomes a house, and it seems like only yesterday, feels like only yesterday, this was our home.”  Indeed, as the property is now up for sale, ”Freshly painted walls where family pictures used to hang, glossed over all our memories, it’s as if we never came.”  

“The Levee Boys” is a memory of youth in the Bosque, boys who broke some windows, bent some laws, barefoot warriors … all for one and one for all.”  Then this family moved in from Albuquerque, with sullen faces and a lot of fighting and a boy named Curly whom they befriended and thus protected from his abusive father — until the law came and the family moved away, likely to continue its cycle of abuse.   The title cut, “Find Your Shine,” is a travelogue of oddly names places across America and a couple who run off from their home in search of a better life. 

“Infinity” opens with ”each of us a single thread, woven to the fine fabric of the grand design, she smiles, says the stars look great tonight…. All we are is all that is, there are no two moments quite like this … and all that matters now with our eyes above the clouds is to see the light.”  This is a beautiful song about “we create what we believe, we can live in fear, we can go in peace, we can give to God or always be at odds with our mortality.”   What a meditation this song is.  The final three songs are “Hanging On,” “Kickaround Kid,” and “Alone Star,” and since I know you will want to know what they are about, I will just let you find out the old fashioned way.  Kevin and Barbara, by the way, are performing out at the Iguana Grill on Lake (?) Travis on Friday at 6:30 pm.