Galleywinter

Stoney LaRue’s latest release, Aviator, comes just a mere three years after his Velvet.  That’s a record breaking pace for an artist who made fans wait near Guns N’ Roses lengths between albums after his Red Dirt Album release way back in 2005.  Stoney has always been unique.  A teddy bear wrapped in biker gear. His early efforts were jam bandy at times and full of a well-deserved bravado.  Stoney’s always been one of the most talented cats around vocally, and in those early days nobody owned a listening room quite like him.  For reference, find the legendary Sidecar Pub Galleywinter bootleg show with Bleu Edmondson from 2004.  His own tunes and voice were there right alongside Jim Croce and Neil Young. Through each incarnation Stoney has undergone since he’s grown more comfortable in his own skin.  He’s transitioned from mostly covering other folk’s songs to developing his own songwriting voice.  Most often that writing voice is bolstered by the pen of the fantastically underrated Mando Saenz.  Saenz gentle, wry nature seems to have brought out the truest and best in Stoney LaRue’s artistic soul.  They began their collaboration on Velvet and it has truly found the sweet spot with Aviator.  Every track, save for a Freddy Powers cover (“Natural High”) is a Saenz co-write.

The venerable Frank Liddell is at the production helm of Aviator alongside Michael McCarthy and a host of A players.  The album was recorded to tape and eschewed digital techniques that afford the … Keep Reading

When I wrote this cover story feature piece for Lone Star Music magazine five years ago, Wade Bowen was in a period of self-induced creative transition. Switching his band up, expanding songwriting partners, bringing in new producers, booking agents and management.  That gamble certainly paid off.  Now as 2014 is coming to a close, Bowen is yet again pushing himself forward.  However, this time it’s by going backward somewhat.

What I mean by that is Bowen’s latest record is free of the pressure of having to make it.  He’s made it.  On his own, gambled terms.  With this new record, Bowen is free to gamble in a new way: by listening to his heart completely. Following the muse of your soul isn’t always easy when you have a band, crew and family of dozens relying on you.  Free from the confines of fitting into any preconceived boxes or external pressures, Bowen delivers his finest collection of songs.

Bowen’s always had a wide creative palatte fostered by a varied. personal music fandom.  Yet, the stuff he laid down in the studio always maintained a heavy, serious overtone that belied the more lighthearted facets of his personality.  This new incarnation features a healthier balance of “Walking Along the Fenceline” alongside “Drinka the vodka!”

All of these career adjustments and freedoms allowed Bowen to make a well-rounded record that accentuates all his best qualities, but with a newfound experimental side. The country aesthetic is woven into each song via Bowen’s voice, but the … Keep Reading

There’s just something about the Texas Music scene that defies logic.  It may be the staid and repetitive nature of the music the last few years or the extremely overcrowded market. Right or wrong, there is a pecking order based on who started first and not necessarily talent in many cases. Guys that have been doing it since the late 90’s, even if unoriginally and without reaching their full potential, are handed virtual lockdowns on venues and top notch musicians.  In essence, the scene is like a big high school; with several acts who should’ve graduated long ago still hanging out like Wooderson in the movie Dazed and Confused.  Texas music is like a big bubble that forces you to breathe improperly until you emancipate yourself from it.

I’ve said it before and it bears repeating. Our scene is a lot like the hair metal movement of the 80’s. It sprung out of a hardcore LA club and rock scene. It was vibrant and competitive. It was a spirited and friendly competitive environment in which the bands attempted to snag a record deal, the hottest girl in the club that night, or the best blow and/or smack from some top rate dealer. Sometimes all three in one night.

The market was flooded with wannabes, burnouts, has-beens, never-weres, talents, no talents etc. All trying to jump to the next rung.

Sound familiar?… Keep Reading

Few artists are transcendent.  There are those that make a mark so indelible that even a tragic, untimely death can’t lessen the tight grip they have on our collective consciousness.  Such was the case with Texas guitar virtuoso Stevie Ray Vaughan.  The man cut his teeth in the dives of Dallas, helped break open the Austin scene and slummed at Cheatham Street before becoming an international superstar.  Tales of SRV’s talent and excess are commonplace and we won’t rehash them here.  Just know that he was more than the sum of those narratives.  He was a talented singer, songwriter and producer as well.  He had the artistic abilities to stretch beyond 1-4-5 blues and did so on occasion, but he always knew where home was.  He was an old soul with a Texas spirit that embodied all he did.  After beating around throughout the 70s, Stevie Ray shot to fame and infamy in the early 80s on the strength of his live shows.  He was a throwback bluesman with Hendrix-esque intensity and mystique, all in an original Texan package.  Stevie Ray Vaughan climbed mountains that seemed impossible both personally and musically.  He overcame many obstacles, including a great number of self-inflicted ones, to become the preeminent post-Hendrix guitar player.

Had Stevie Ray Vaughan lived he’d have turned 60 today.  He was robbed from us nearly 25 years ago at the age of just 35.  His life made him a legend, his death escalated that notion and his music confirms it … Keep Reading

Hal Ketchum was a mainstay on country radio in the 90’s.  Huge hits like “Small Town Saturday Night”, “Past the Point of Rescue” and “I Know Where Love Lives” resonated with audiences far and wide.  Ketchum’s songs also embodied certain trends that would later escape Nashville and flourish in Texas.  Specific, heartfelt, smart, melodic and distinct. Ketchum cut his teeth in the burgeoning Texas troubadour scene of the 1980’s that blossomed on the shoulders of Robert Earl Keen and Lyle Lovett.  A regular gig at Gruene Hall and an independent record release led to Nashville, which led to his grand successes.

As the years wore on, Ketchum’s musical muse wore out.  He found making music less enjoyable and lacking the fulfillment to which he’d originally been attracted.  As this inspirational fade began, a health issue paralleled this.  Ketchum was diagnosed with a neurological disorder called acute transverse myelitis, a companion disease to multiple sclerosis.  Ketchum was achingly familiar with the hell that living with an MS disease can be, as he lost his mother at a young age to the affliction.  Touring became more of a challenge and less frequent.  Studio time became less enticing and more of a hassle.

And so it went for the next decade or so.  Then, something funny happened.  Music seduced Hal Ketchum again.  In a most unlikely place.  Ketchum had removed himself from many of the trappings of modern life, decamped to a secluded cabin in Wimberley and worked on treating his MS ailments … Keep Reading