September 15, 2022 • 35 mins
From Lightnin' Hopkins to Destiny's Child, Houston has long been a bottomless well of American music and memory. Host Will Dailey introduces you to the big sounds and bigger stories that bring Houston to life, from Steve Earle's run-in with Townes Van Zandt to a murder mystery it took a guitar master to solve. Go behind the scenes and take a stroll through the places you should go now to experience the authentic Houston through music, culture, and food.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
Okay, double Elvis. In a situation familiar to many openers,
John Van Dever found himself before a rowdy crowd in
the late nineties seventies demanding that he get off stage
and that Bob Marley take his place immediately. The Folks singer,
(00:24):
looking like a youthful Santa Claus, gently cradled his acoustic
guitar to his right side after his second song, and
with a smile, grabbed the mic. Y'all, nobody wants to
see Bob Marley more than I do. That's why I
got the best seat in the house. Now, I've been
hired to play forty five minutes before the Whalers come on,
and I'm gonna do it. Now. Y'all can sit there
and yell for Bob Marley, where you can kick back,
(00:47):
burn one and enjoy the show. Well. One good thing
about music is that when a gentlemannered performer with a
bluesy punk soul vocal hits you with some true you
feel no pain. The crowd was with Vanderver for the
rest of the set, and in the end demanded and encore.
It's a telling story of Vanderver's power and artistic heart.
(01:10):
Tragically He was murdered in the mid nineteen eighties alongside
his girlfriend in what is thought to be a mistake
in high level drug robbery. But his magnetism, gentleness, and
talent persists, and it infiltrates this city to this day,
adding to the lord this town has to the songwriter,
the wandering troubadors looking to prove their true grit in
a place where the locals speak with such a rhythm
(01:32):
and musicality that you better have a good story, or
at least a well crafted version of the truth to tell.
I can see the old crowd laughing so loud, Lord,
I miss Alma loved once so dear. From the cold,
rocky mountains of Denver, I can almost see Houston from here,
Bobby Bear, written by Ray Willis. Houston was founded in
(01:59):
eighteen thirty six on a hot and muddy land near
the banks of Buffalo Bayou now known as Alan's Landing.
The location on this slow as molasses waterway winding way
down towards the Gulf of Mexico, made it a hub
for transportation and trade. However, water was in Houston's only
profitable liquid. Just underfoot was a whole lot of that
bubbling kinetic dinosaur juice that we choke on and that
(02:21):
makes the world go round. Crude oil about five hundred
million years worth was waiting underneath, ready to get tapped
like a keg. And when it was that black gold
created the gravity of a black hole. And with the
oil shooting skyward, this Texas boom and its electric promise
of opportunity drew the people towards Houston with the burning
intensity of a celestial object, stories and song in tow
(02:44):
Forty four thousand Black Americans migrating out of the South,
Mexican Americans, and Asian Americans all rolled into Houston with
their music, their faith, and their food, transforming it from
a trade post mud pit into the fourth largest and
one of the most culturally diverse cities in America. On
any night in Houston, you can hear the sounds of
this distinctly American musical tapestry emanating from every ward in
(03:07):
the city. Blues occasion, ziego, country, hip hop to Hano folk.
It's all equally at home in each town. And speaking
of celestial objects, is it any coincidence that NASA's headquarters
to explore the Final Frontier is located in Houston, Texas
the frontier state ground Control is telling Major Tom I
think not. Folks got to calling Houston the Manhattan of
(03:27):
the South, which is quite interesting because Houston actually has
more concentrated seating for performing arts than anywhere else in
the country, with the exception of you guessed it, Broadway
seats where you can and or could have seen the
likes of Destiny's Child, Lyla Wind, Butler, Clinton Zz Jamilian,
(03:49):
Lightning Hop, Hilary, Steve, Rodney, kraw Megan v Stallly, Kenny Rods,
Kelly Roll, Chris with Barbara Mandre, Vincebeck, Gangster, Robert Last,
DJ Spruce s gar Casey, musk ra Zero car Robert Earle,
Keene and Beyonce. So Houston Star Date. I don't know,
(04:15):
but here on Earth it's nifty two. Big Mama Thornton
is recording a little song called hound Dog, a low,
double entendre masterpiece about throwing a jigglo out of her
house that sold half a million copies and spent fourteen
weeks topping the R and B charts. Not bad. Four
years later, though, a singer on the Ups named Elvis
made his own version to Jivy two and the screaming began,
(04:37):
riots ensued. Such is the power of a song. This
is the moment R and B in the blues cross
pollinate a different groove, thus declaring rock and roll's arrival.
Talk about gravity, the song was the epicenter of a
new universe. Also in the nineteen fifties and the fifth
ward of Houston, Clifton Shane one of the many Louisianians
who had migrated to the Bayou city from New Orleans,
(05:00):
who was onto a new sound combining French creole music
with R and B stylings. They called it zydeco and
he became its king. And then there's sugar Hill Studios,
the oldest continuously operating studio in the United States. It
has helped launch the careers of Lightning Hopkins, the Big Bopper,
Destiny's Child, George Jones, and Freddie Fender, and also Beyonce
(05:22):
maybe you've heard of her, But there's more. In the
sprawl of Houston, there's plenty of room for the folk
singer songwriter scene, which played a pivotal stop on the
journey for musicians building their chops and moving on to
experience the bright lights of Nashville, including Towns, Van Zandt,
Guy Clark, Willie Nelson, Moucinda Williams, Lyle Lovett, Nancy Griffith.
I mean, if it's capturing Steve Earle and holding the
(05:44):
heart of Beyonce, then you've also felt the orbital pull
of Houston, Texas. This is Sound of Our Town, a
podcast about the music that shaped the cities of America.
It's about where you are going and where you want
to go to find here and feel the best music
(06:04):
happening right now, What sounds and places of shape the
city's culture, and what new sounds continue to define it.
It's about getting together in a room to listen and
why that matters. So whether you're quickly dropping in, landing
for a long stay, or longing for more musical connection.
In each episode of Sound of Our Town, I'll introduce
you to the real places in sonic stories echoing in
(06:26):
a particular city, so that your travel is enriched with music.
My name is will Daily. I'm an independent songwriter and performer.
I've had the good life and graceful struggle of playing
everywhere and anywhere for the past twenty years. With this
first season of Sound of Our Town, we are visiting
ten cities and twelve episodes. This is episode nine, and
(06:47):
we're going to Houston, Texas. If you take the highway
far enough out into the prairie, away from the hazy
lights and oil fields of the city, you will be
greeted by the stars. Sure, maybe summer satellites or space stations,
(07:12):
but locate ursa major and follow the edge of the
Big Dipper to the North Star. If you have excellent vision,
you might be able to see Towns of van Zand
a true Texas music legend waving back at you from
Pilaris his sound waves of wild heartbreak rambling through the cosmos.
Towns a cult singer, songwriter, bad boy with a heart
(07:33):
of gold, kind of hero, never signed the big record deal,
yet is considered one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
Just ask his friends Emmy Lou Harris Merle Haggard, Guy Clark,
or Willie Nelson. Towns did say the sky is full
of songs just waiting to be pulled in. While he
was pulling Poncho and Lefty and waiting around to die
down from the atmosphere, he was also pulling in a
(07:54):
cult of devoted songwriter disciples into his orbit. Each dying
to capture the magical warm heart, humor, despair and risk,
and his music artists just want to get closer and
closer to the truth when you deal with it in songs.
You have seen in seventy one such devoted protege making
a Houston pilgrimage was Steve Earle. Earl crashed a party
(08:16):
in nineteen seventy two for the birthday of Jerry Jeff Walker,
who was turning thirty three years old. Relentless and determined,
a seventeen year old Steve Earl hitchhikes to the party.
It's an action that hopefully everyone on earth has done
for love, just trying to put yourself within the possible
path of your desire, hoping that the stars a line
and you get your shot. Well, any life or in
(08:37):
the musical arts has done the same for the love
of a scene or their idol. Earl posted up at
the party, towing the line between networking and not getting
kicked out by the birthday boy. And sometime around two am,
just when Steve thought his hustle was up, the front
door kicked open and Towns van z Aunt came crashing
through it, dragging the night behind him looking like it
(09:00):
cost him to do what he does. Sometimes that is
what we love an artist to be. A heroic reflection
of the struggle, gravity was re established around a new
star of the party. Van's aunt quickly took to a
game of craps and lost every dime he had along
with his beautiful buckskin jacket. Earl didn't share a word
(09:20):
with him that night. He didn't need to. He found
his hero and now it's your turn to crash Houston.
Right after this, when I traveled to Houston for this episode,
(09:43):
I had the best sound from my current favorites. Postonos.
Rome is an ultra portable smart speaker that is about
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it fits in your suitcase, your backpack, or your Fannie pack.
And when I dropped the suitcase down the escalator, I
didn't even have to work because of Rome has a
shock resistant design that protects it from falls or bumps
(10:05):
on hard surfaces. It was everything else that broke a
room was totally fine. My favorite feature is how long
a Rome battery lasts. No matter if you're on the
go or if you just forget to charge your room,
you can still enjoy listening to your favorite podcasts and
music for up to ten hours. And if you can't
find an outlet, you can charge your room in no
time with the custom designed wireless charger. So get rome
(10:27):
and get ready for your next adventure. Learn more in
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you've taken the Southwest Freeway or Highway fifty nine, or
(10:48):
a bus or train, or you rode a horse across
the plains into Houston. You just get there like your
seventeen year old Steve Earl Chase in the music. And
when you do, you will immediately start sweating. It is hot. Also,
it's probably hurricane season, so there's that. Being on the
Gulf of Mexico, you technically have now entered a humid
subtropical climate. But I digress. The point is you need
(11:11):
to unwind with a cold beverage and unclenched your weary body.
It's time to figure out your first stop. I suggest
you head to Midtown and find Axle Rat. If you
are thirsty, Axle Rat is ready to water you. It's
a beer garden, it's a music venue. It's a hammock
grove underneath a neon tree. No hallucinogenics involved. I'm not
a botanist, but there is a neon tree there. It's real,
(11:33):
and there's over thirty beers on tap and about a
hundred more bottled somewhere in the back of this once
upon a time grocery store from the mid twenties. You're
bound to get whatever your liquid itch you have scratched.
Like it's grocery store beginnings. Everyone is welcome, even dogs.
Since it opened in it has been a true community
hank spot and loves nothing more than featuring the best
(11:54):
local players while holding a hundred and fifty patrons. The
intimate floral decre immediately washes away the stress that comes
with getting anywhere these days, and the music at Axle
Rat is curated by Wonky Power Records, the local Latino
owned music production company that has been serving the kind
of diverse and talented nights to the venue that reflect
the melting pot of Houston, featuring some of the hottest
(12:16):
Houston musicians. Depending on the day you mosey in, you
might catch Cumbia Music Night with Sombayou, or maybe La Witch,
or here Kermit Rough and shredding on his trumpet As
you unwind underneath and neon tree. Some starlight that reaches
(12:39):
our eyes has long since burned out. Once upon a
time in Houston, one could open their front door and
wind up in a honky talk bar. Washed away the
workday with a cold, one ask someone to dance, and
spend the evening holding them tight for a two steps.
But those rooms have burned up upon entry into the
twenty one century, which makes the light of this stress
(12:59):
free spot shine even brighter. Shoe Shine Charlie's Big Top Lounge.
It looks like someone gave up halfway trying to convert
a toy store into a bar. It is the local
extension of the Continental Club, which is a more upscale,
big sibling room that in the past was integral for
acts like Stevie Ray, Vaughan and Double Trouble and Paul
Ray and the Cobras. The Big Top came to life
(13:20):
when vintage circus paintings were found preserved on the walls,
and soon discovered that the building was home to Playhouse Toys,
a Houston institution for many years beginning in the nineteen forties.
The name is a tribute to the master of ceremonies.
Shoe Shine Charlie Miller. Charlie was pulled down to Houston
as soon as the new Continental Club was up and
running to lend a hand to the manager, Pete Gordon. Really,
(13:43):
he was there to whip him into shape and give
him hell, as well as keep all the musicians in
line too. Everyone who knew Charlie loved and adored him,
but they would never risk the backlash standing too close
to a shine Stand nicknamed Pitiful without getting a buff.
His band introductions were legend dairy and a true honor
when Charlie would bring them up on stage and butcher
(14:04):
their names like Ali Hondo, Escalator, or loudly and proudly
announcing Jonathan Richmond on stage at the Continental Club as
Jonathan Winters. Charlie has passed, but as shine Stand watches
over the Big Top nightly with pride, especially on their
no cover Tuesdays for Christopher Seymour's Horny Tonk Knights. Seymour,
(14:25):
a songwriter from the rolling pine covered hills up state
South Carolina, also felt the polt to Houston. There is
a golden era tamper Pepper throughout his show and a
hell of a good time, but you can feel the
lineage listening to the band play and Big Top on
a Tuesday night. It's a divine no cover stop and
two stepping is strongly encouraged. The nerves, or the common
(14:52):
name the butterflies. They don't arrive and take over the performer.
The same for every show venue or stage. Some gigs
are infest it with butterflies and some not at all.
It's possible there is only one little pack that just
travels around artists to artists, delivering anxiety to every performer
waiting in a green room. But some venues have their
very own species of relentless butterfly nerves, like those curated
(15:16):
and bread. Over the fifty plus years that Anderson Fair
retail restaurant has existed against all the odds, standing the
test of time for all those songwriters that just want
to step into a simple spotlight before a blissful, silent dark.
Decades of music has passed down generation to generation in
the Montrose area of Houston, an ideal nesting ground for butterflies.
(15:40):
They've staggered, drunk on whiskey and unwelcome from the belly
of towns Van's Aunt into the mouth of Nancy Griffith
to sober up and then dance a little closer in
the heart of Guy Clark as he sang, ain't no
money of poetry. That's what sets the poet free. I've
had all the freedom I can stand a line that
(16:00):
only strengthens the swarm. They know they can get to you,
because there is a galaxy worth of artists who will
do this no matter what, as long as there is
a building with a stage to stand on in a fair,
as the regulars call it still stands with the help
of every hammer, every nail, and every volunteer over the years,
being the most significant room in the state of Texas
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for the solo acoustic performer. In the nineteen seventies, when
it really was a little village, the sign could say close,
but there will be thirty people inside. It was a
world inside a bubble. So this gaggle of butterflies have
spent time in the hearts and minds of Robert Earl,
Keane Slade Cleaves and Rambling Jack Elliott, leaving their mark
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even after you left the stage. Because if you want
to come back again to play Anderson Fair, you better
have a new song. You better have too, not for
the radio or mass consumption, but a song to share
that isn't for everyone, but a song for someone or something.
The but her flies got to Lucinda Williams and tried
to get those seeds that would bear the fruits of
(17:04):
her labors. Their tireless wings added more weight into the
poetry of Eric Taylor's lyrics, and they did try with
John Vanderver, but he seemed to enjoy their company a
little too much. And then there's the young journalist who
had been covering shows and artists for the college paper.
When Lyle Lovett finally got his shot at opening a
show and not just writing about it. If he never
(17:25):
got down, he stayed up there for years, harnessing those
monarchs and blue wings until he was ready to take
his songs to the rest of the country. I'm sure
some a fair butterflies went with him, but certainly not
all in that kaleidoscope of flutters would disperse if they
ever saw towns Van's aunt approach the rickety front door again.
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Some legends are beyond their sway, fostering artists like Griffith
and love It for the rest of the country to
fall in love with. In the nineteen eighties, only encourage
the power of the jitters you get approaching the stage
at a fair. Now they are relentless. They have all
that history built up in their wings and their cocky
as hell, all because of the songs and the songwriters
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that have taken the stage and instilled the legacy a
true listening room where they have, on occasion handed money
back to a talker so they can enjoy their night elsewhere.
But it rarely happens. It feels too good to be there,
like arriving at a family home preparing the most important
meal of the day. Artists don't covet the stage at
Anderson Fair for money or fame. They get up there
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to live and who doesn't want to listen to that? Now?
I can't ask you to waste your time in search
engines looking for good food in this gumpo of cultures
(18:51):
responsible for one of the best food scenes in the country.
There are over ten thousand restaurants representing cuisine for more
than seventy countries. So let me just narrow it down
to a manageable level and get you fed with the
pre and post concert eat First Up Street Kitchen a
true hidden gem, and please don't tell our other hidden gem.
(19:11):
I said that there are seven tables. It seats maybe
thirty people tops, and it's in Houston's hip East End. Now,
to be a Thai restaurant and call yourself street to
kitchen means you plan to bring the real deal. It's
the brainchild of chef Ben Chawan Painter and Graham Painter.
They bring fresh, authentic Thai food and spirit to Houston.
Not that water down, sugarloaded americanized tie where you pat
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yourself on the bag for a little spice, but a
place where the spice actually has flavor and dimension. And
then there's your post show. Maybe you've gone to some
classic rooms in town already announced late and you realized
you're starting for top notch late night Vietnamese in midtown.
My restaurant is a Houston institution serving out of this
world Foe stir fried noodles and traditional Vietnamese food long
(19:56):
into the night on the weekends, and you won't be alone.
It's a below of your family owned restaurant that's been
serving the late and early crowds since the nineteen seventies.
Anthony Bourdain called their Foe the best in America. Steaming
bowl will be your best bet to refuel your jets
after a night of club hopping around town, and there
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are many ways to melt your face in Houston just
being there. It's likely to happen. Some nights you need
the truth and wet and weariness of a songwriter to
shadow your heart and thus make it whole. Other nights,
you're willing to sacrifice a few brain cells to get
your hair blown back by a hard hitting rock band.
I get it. So I'd like to suggest a location
where you can align this melting of the body with
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the melting that a great night of music will catalyze
within you. Plan an evening at the White Oak Music Hall,
a beautiful new complex built in two thousand and sixteen.
It's a major stop for national acts hitting the highways,
as well as the most talented local and regional cats
in the area. There are three different stages in this
one venue, providing a Goldilocks frame of how to get
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melted if you are in the mood for a show
under the stars and the Big Texas Sky. The Lawn
stage is an outdoor amphitheater type of setup which can
hold three thousand folks and has a gorgeous view of
the Bayou in the Houston skyline. It also has a
cross berreeze, which on a hot night in Texas is
like striking oil. The big names come through here Tam
and Pola, Flaming Lips, Vampire Weekend, Glass Animals, and Deaf Tones.
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Head inside and you've got two increasingly intimate options upstairs
or downstairs. Downstairs is the music hall, and here, within
the wood paneled walls with a sound and warmth reverberates,
three hundred to one thousand people can commune in song
and or dance. An approachable stage with excellent sight lines
and a two tiered bar are ready for you to
see the likes of Leon Bridges, Marcus Mumford, Two Chains,
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Mitsky and Purity Ring. And if you are still craving
a room with more snuggle, head upstairs to the stage
room for the most intimate of settings. This one will
surely fit just right. You went up to two hundred
of your closest friend can gather around to hear the
notes between the notes from troubadours, local acts and rockers
with a soft touch like William Fitzsimmons, Charlotte Sands and
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Man Man. It's important to remember that a good face
melting comes in all decibels and sizes. A city with
so many seats in rooms is a challenge to establish
which exactly gets the distinction of the Vatican of Houston
such a big town kind of feel like on the
other way with it, we stopped at some very big
(22:30):
rooms this season. Maybe it's time to ignore size and
get a ticket to influence. Since mcgonagall's Mucky Duck has
been pulling in the singer songwriters and troubadours of independent music.
Without this room and Anderson Fair, it's hard to imagine
Houston having such a rich history when it comes to
singer songwriters and mcgonagall's Mucky Duck. You're up close, and
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when I say close, I mean you're sitting on the
lap of the performer. Imagine if your cool friend had
a very large living room, installed an excellent sound system,
created a chill and subtle nightclub vibe, and build a
stage to host first class performers. You would want to
be there and you would feel at home. Except they
have a much fuller bar than your friend, and a
friendly waite staff who come table side, ever so quietly,
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to take your order before and during the show. The
Duck what the locals call it, encourages patrons to arrive
an hour early to find their table, get comfortable and
order some food and drink. It's an Irish pub that
doubles as an intimate venue. You fit in with a
guinness and some fish and chips. It's a family affair here,
so if you don't have someone to drop the kids
off with, you can bring them along, provided they can
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behave with a proper decorum during the show. No kids
that need iPads. Once the lights go down, prepared to
have your spirit and soul quenched by the music presented
in the truest and purest form. There's nowhere to hide.
There is no stage show. It's just the audience and
the performers, pure and simple, the most essential elements. There
is a simple philosophy for this family owned business run
(23:57):
by Rusty and Teresa Andrews. Make the artists the customers
feel welcome and appreciated. They've always put a premium on
nurturing up and coming artists and helping them build a falling.
This is on display during their Monday night open mic
where locals and maybe you have an opportunity to get
up on stage and work their craft in a sympathetic environment.
The stage is boasted past acts like j. J. Kale,
(24:18):
Terry Allan, Zach Brown, and Richie Havens, to name just
a few, and the calendar is always packed with a
wide range of performers. And in good fashion, they have
kept their Irish pub roots alive by hosting Tannehill, Weavers, Soulless,
and Maura O'Connell. This Vatican stop as another testament to
a city that loves their songwriters. We've all heard the
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saying everything is bigger in Texas, But what is it
exactly that's bigger. Is it the land mass, the number
of rattlesnakes, the hair, the sky, the dreams? The answer
is yes to all of the above, so core it
makes sense that Houston also hosts the biggest rodeo event
in the world that happens to be a twenty day
music festival that features the brightest stars in music. Truly,
(25:11):
if you want to immerse yourself in the event that
proves Texas is bigger, get your calendar situated anywhere from
the end of February through mid March for the Houston
Live Stock Show and Rodeo, an event where you can
actually buy a cow or watch cowboys riding rough stock
and barrel men running for their lives. And once the
(25:31):
dust settles in, the stage lights switch on the likes
of Gwen Stefani, Keith Urban, Tim McGraw, kaled To Knee Tijuana,
or Marion Morris will serenade you into the evening. It's
wild and richly Texans. This event also raises tons of
money for Texas youth educational programs and has been a
real institution here in Houston since nineteen thirty two. But
(25:56):
if Rodeo's really aren't your thing, maybe the We Are
One Fest is the calendar event for you. In mid November,
this event turns the Eleanor Tinsley Park into a two
day dance party. The One Fest is the brainchild of
local musicians who saw a hole in that great, big
lone star sky that needed some filling, a place where E, D, M,
rap and hip hop could all crash into each other
(26:17):
in a glorious cacophony of beats and verse and vibe.
Art is also a huge part of this festival, and
local muralists and street artists like Amber Slaughter and Rachel
Harvey turned the scene into a wild technicolor dream with
a creation of live installation and art pieces while the
Baby Gucci, Maine Grimes, Poppy Chief Keith in Virtual Wall
(26:39):
turn up the dial to ten and keep the crowd
vibrating for the next forty eight hours. Make sure to
keep an eye on the dates, as this sometimes as
held in May, but has been moving the timing around
the past couple of years, and now we have our
hit in gem. It's a sultry evening in Houston. Humidity
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index is maybe it's a Tuesday, but it's already been
a hell of a week, and you're desperate for a
reprieve from reality, from the bottomless inbox, from the mundanity
of the day. Times like this, it's important to remember
a good taco, a sweet melody, and a Medelo negro
can save your soul. You find yourself drawn to the
Warehouse district in the northeast side of downtown. The big,
(27:21):
blocky buildings have a sort of anonymity that feels comforting
to your current state of being. Over all of this,
suddenly you're hit by a ribbon of music sneaking down
the sidewalk and you follow your ears to a building
with no sign you try to open the orange door,
it's locked. This place is incognito, which only makes you
want to see what's on the other side of the
portal even more. You realize there is actually a small
(27:43):
sign and it only says knocked twice. You do. Miraculously,
somebody lets you in, and it's like you're in one
of those movies that are in black and white, and
then suddenly it's switched to color. Well, welcome to the
Last Concert Cafe. It's warm, eccentric, full of bright colors,
a hodgepodge of influences and art and pink flamingos and
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interconnected dining spaces that empty out into a beautiful open
air courtyard ending in a stage flanked by palm trees.
And yes, you will get the music and the medello
in that coveted taco. The food is on points, serving
authentic homemade text max every night. Local regional and internationally
acclaimed music acts who know to knock twice swing through
(28:24):
their Victor Wootton Gangs, the Grass and the Whalers could
be grace in the stage. Billy Gibbons of zz Top
is known to stop by on Thursday nights to catch
tunes and You're likely to run into any number of
local politicians and artists and weirdos here all in the
Chill list of moods. It's considered one of the most welcoming, expressive,
and creative experiences in Houston. Not bad for a place
(28:46):
no one can find with a locked front door. It's
yet another star amongst the Houston skyline that will exert
its magnetic pool, a true hidden gem. Okay, A few
things to prepare for your trip to Houston. First is
the documentary for the Sake of the Song. It's up
(29:06):
on YouTube and it's all about Anderson Fair and you
can hear from Lyle love It, Nancy Griffith, and you
can even see some performances from John van de verg.
You could also watch Urban Cowboy and see if John
Travolta is convincing as a cowboy. Or you could read
China Barry Sidewalks by Rodney Crowell. He put down his
guitar depend this rough and rowdy memoir of a kid
(29:28):
growing up in dirt poor Houston, something like a nineteen
fifties version of Tom Sawyer. You'll navigate the backwaters and
backyards of southeastern Texas with a young Crowell as your
tour guide. You'll be sitting front row in the beer soaked,
nicotine stained dance halls as the Houston Kid is exposed
to the wonders in the life affirming words and rhythm
of Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins.
(29:52):
Soaked in nostalgia, humor and sorrow. It's a full slice
of American pie, don't Texas Alam Modes style? Uh Yeah.
A couple of months after Steve Earl crashed Jerry Jeff
Walker's birthday party, he was on stage at the Iconic
(30:13):
Old Quarter getting heckled by a guy in the front
row with requests for Wabash cannonball. Think of it as
a folk room version of somebody yelling Freebird. Unflinching and
fearless even at seventeen, Steve Earl looked the heckler in
the eye, and, as best as one can make eye
contact with their hero, he delivered a spot on version
of Town van Zance lyrically complex Mr Mud and Mr
(30:36):
Gold directly to the songwriter himself. Thus began a friendship,
one that sustained Earl through his rise of the songwriting ranks.
Of Houston and beyond. Even after van Zance passing, Earl
released a cover album of his songs in two thousand
and nine, a connection that also played a role in
saving Steve Earl's life after he watched his hero passed
(30:56):
two young and fifty two, after a life of excess
in connection. That's it. That's what this podcast exists for.
Our digital connections are powerful and far flung, but it
has nothing on the act of standing in a room,
shoulder to shoulder, face to face. The artist needs it,
the audience is needed. The sonic exploration and creation and
introspection feeds so much. It's where we find authenticity to
(31:19):
uncover the vastness of our existence a few chords at
a time, but with your heart and with style. Like
the constellations have done up above, it maps out our lives.
The songs are more points of light connecting us through
space and time. The lineage of artists working together, chasing
each other, drawn to one another, that helps us, bringing everyone,
(31:40):
every chord, every sound, every word to keep oiling that
machine that helps us get from moment to moment, town
to town, heartbreak to crush and back again. The artists
need each other as much as we need you. I
got a call a few years back to open up
a show for Steve Earle, and I did a couple
more after that. It was a heavy night for me.
I fell pulled into orbit of not just Earl, but
(32:02):
of the path. It's hard for us to stay on
our path, no matter what it is. But should the
fates allow, we all have a ride to hitch in,
a party to crash at some point if we have
the courage and one more thing. Shortly after the murder
(32:22):
of John Van de Ver, his friend Bill Callings closed
up his one man guitar shop and dedicated himself defining
the murderers. Refusing to let the case for his friend,
a relatively unknown songwriter and his girlfriend go dark. Callings
worked with the Houston police to apprehend the killers and
send them to prison. Turns out the skills acquired for
the meticulous construction and repair of guitars was applicative to
(32:44):
cracking cases, but again it speaks more to the power
of friendship and music. With the ghosts laid to rest,
the guitar maker returned to his craft and began building
guitars again, and today Callings Guitars currently employs eighty four
people and make some of the bighest and most renowned
instruments in the world, turning out three thousand a year.
(33:05):
Bill Collings passed away in two thousand and seventeen. I
feel like he imagined many guitars that he crafted over
the years in the hands of John vanderver maybe on
stage at Anderson Fair. It is common to say that
we are defined by our actions and our words. That
may just be a short way to say that we
are defined by who we love, the company that we
keep in the art that we make. Thank you for
(33:42):
listening to episode nine nine of Sound of Our Town.
We got two more cities to visit this season in
one extra episode. That's very special coming your way, and
we get to keep going. If you share this with
a friend, if you follow us wherever you listen to podcasts,
and if you leave a review on Apple Podcasts, if
(34:02):
you want to chat about the music scene in your city,
hit me up on Instagram at Will Daily Official or
on Twitter at Will Daily. Sound of Our Town is
a production of Double Elvis and I Heart Radio. Hit
us up on I G at Double Elvis and Twitter
at Double Elvis f M. If you want us to
cover your town, your venue, or your backyard. The show
is executive produced by Jake Brennan, Brady Sadler, and Carlikarioli
(34:23):
for Double Elvis. Production assistance by Matt Boden. This show
is created, written, and hosted and scored by me Will Daily.
Additional writing on this episode by Ed Jurdy and Samantha Ferrell.
For sources see the show notes. Music for this episode
was composed and performed by me Will Daily. You can
check out my music on Spotify, Apple, band Camp, and
always at will daily dot com. And now I'm off
(34:44):
to the next gig. I got in the next city
to cover for Sound of Our Town. I will see
you soon and thank you for your ears.
Okay, double Elvis. In a situation familiar to many openers,
John Van Dever found himself before a rowdy crowd in
the late nineties seventies demanding that he get off stage
and that Bob Marley take his place immediately. The Folks singer,
(00:24):
looking like a youthful Santa Claus, gently cradled his acoustic
guitar to his right side after his second song, and
with a smile, grabbed the mic. Y'all, nobody wants to
see Bob Marley more than I do. That's why I
got the best seat in the house. Now, I've been
hired to play forty five minutes before the Whalers come on,
and I'm gonna do it. Now. Y'all can sit there
and yell for Bob Marley, where you can kick back,
(00:47):
burn one and enjoy the show. Well. One good thing
about music is that when a gentlemannered performer with a
bluesy punk soul vocal hits you with some true you
feel no pain. The crowd was with Vanderver for the
rest of the set, and in the end demanded and encore.
It's a telling story of Vanderver's power and artistic heart.
(01:10):
Tragically He was murdered in the mid nineteen eighties alongside
his girlfriend in what is thought to be a mistake
in high level drug robbery. But his magnetism, gentleness, and
talent persists, and it infiltrates this city to this day,
adding to the lord this town has to the songwriter,
the wandering troubadors looking to prove their true grit in
a place where the locals speak with such a rhythm
(01:32):
and musicality that you better have a good story, or
at least a well crafted version of the truth to tell.
I can see the old crowd laughing so loud, Lord,
I miss Alma loved once so dear. From the cold,
rocky mountains of Denver, I can almost see Houston from here,
Bobby Bear, written by Ray Willis. Houston was founded in
(01:59):
eighteen thirty six on a hot and muddy land near
the banks of Buffalo Bayou now known as Alan's Landing.
The location on this slow as molasses waterway winding way
down towards the Gulf of Mexico, made it a hub
for transportation and trade. However, water was in Houston's only
profitable liquid. Just underfoot was a whole lot of that
bubbling kinetic dinosaur juice that we choke on and that
(02:21):
makes the world go round. Crude oil about five hundred
million years worth was waiting underneath, ready to get tapped
like a keg. And when it was that black gold
created the gravity of a black hole. And with the
oil shooting skyward, this Texas boom and its electric promise
of opportunity drew the people towards Houston with the burning
intensity of a celestial object, stories and song in tow
(02:44):
Forty four thousand Black Americans migrating out of the South,
Mexican Americans, and Asian Americans all rolled into Houston with
their music, their faith, and their food, transforming it from
a trade post mud pit into the fourth largest and
one of the most culturally diverse cities in America. On
any night in Houston, you can hear the sounds of
this distinctly American musical tapestry emanating from every ward in
(03:07):
the city. Blues occasion, ziego, country, hip hop to Hano folk.
It's all equally at home in each town. And speaking
of celestial objects, is it any coincidence that NASA's headquarters
to explore the Final Frontier is located in Houston, Texas
the frontier state ground Control is telling Major Tom I
think not. Folks got to calling Houston the Manhattan of
(03:27):
the South, which is quite interesting because Houston actually has
more concentrated seating for performing arts than anywhere else in
the country, with the exception of you guessed it, Broadway
seats where you can and or could have seen the
likes of Destiny's Child, Lyla Wind, Butler, Clinton Zz Jamilian,
(03:49):
Lightning Hop, Hilary, Steve, Rodney, kraw Megan v Stallly, Kenny Rods,
Kelly Roll, Chris with Barbara Mandre, Vincebeck, Gangster, Robert Last,
DJ Spruce s gar Casey, musk ra Zero car Robert Earle,
Keene and Beyonce. So Houston Star Date. I don't know,
(04:15):
but here on Earth it's nifty two. Big Mama Thornton
is recording a little song called hound Dog, a low,
double entendre masterpiece about throwing a jigglo out of her
house that sold half a million copies and spent fourteen
weeks topping the R and B charts. Not bad. Four
years later, though, a singer on the Ups named Elvis
made his own version to Jivy two and the screaming began,
(04:37):
riots ensued. Such is the power of a song. This
is the moment R and B in the blues cross
pollinate a different groove, thus declaring rock and roll's arrival.
Talk about gravity, the song was the epicenter of a
new universe. Also in the nineteen fifties and the fifth
ward of Houston, Clifton Shane one of the many Louisianians
who had migrated to the Bayou city from New Orleans,
(05:00):
who was onto a new sound combining French creole music
with R and B stylings. They called it zydeco and
he became its king. And then there's sugar Hill Studios,
the oldest continuously operating studio in the United States. It
has helped launch the careers of Lightning Hopkins, the Big Bopper,
Destiny's Child, George Jones, and Freddie Fender, and also Beyonce
(05:22):
maybe you've heard of her, But there's more. In the
sprawl of Houston, there's plenty of room for the folk
singer songwriter scene, which played a pivotal stop on the
journey for musicians building their chops and moving on to
experience the bright lights of Nashville, including Towns, Van Zandt,
Guy Clark, Willie Nelson, Moucinda Williams, Lyle Lovett, Nancy Griffith.
I mean, if it's capturing Steve Earle and holding the
(05:44):
heart of Beyonce, then you've also felt the orbital pull
of Houston, Texas. This is Sound of Our Town, a
podcast about the music that shaped the cities of America.
It's about where you are going and where you want
to go to find here and feel the best music
(06:04):
happening right now, What sounds and places of shape the
city's culture, and what new sounds continue to define it.
It's about getting together in a room to listen and
why that matters. So whether you're quickly dropping in, landing
for a long stay, or longing for more musical connection.
In each episode of Sound of Our Town, I'll introduce
you to the real places in sonic stories echoing in
(06:26):
a particular city, so that your travel is enriched with music.
My name is will Daily. I'm an independent songwriter and performer.
I've had the good life and graceful struggle of playing
everywhere and anywhere for the past twenty years. With this
first season of Sound of Our Town, we are visiting
ten cities and twelve episodes. This is episode nine, and
(06:47):
we're going to Houston, Texas. If you take the highway
far enough out into the prairie, away from the hazy
lights and oil fields of the city, you will be
greeted by the stars. Sure, maybe summer satellites or space stations,
(07:12):
but locate ursa major and follow the edge of the
Big Dipper to the North Star. If you have excellent vision,
you might be able to see Towns of van Zand
a true Texas music legend waving back at you from
Pilaris his sound waves of wild heartbreak rambling through the cosmos.
Towns a cult singer, songwriter, bad boy with a heart
(07:33):
of gold, kind of hero, never signed the big record deal,
yet is considered one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
Just ask his friends Emmy Lou Harris Merle Haggard, Guy Clark,
or Willie Nelson. Towns did say the sky is full
of songs just waiting to be pulled in. While he
was pulling Poncho and Lefty and waiting around to die
down from the atmosphere, he was also pulling in a
(07:54):
cult of devoted songwriter disciples into his orbit. Each dying
to capture the magical warm heart, humor, despair and risk,
and his music artists just want to get closer and
closer to the truth when you deal with it in songs.
You have seen in seventy one such devoted protege making
a Houston pilgrimage was Steve Earle. Earl crashed a party
(08:16):
in nineteen seventy two for the birthday of Jerry Jeff Walker,
who was turning thirty three years old. Relentless and determined,
a seventeen year old Steve Earl hitchhikes to the party.
It's an action that hopefully everyone on earth has done
for love, just trying to put yourself within the possible
path of your desire, hoping that the stars a line
and you get your shot. Well, any life or in
(08:37):
the musical arts has done the same for the love
of a scene or their idol. Earl posted up at
the party, towing the line between networking and not getting
kicked out by the birthday boy. And sometime around two am,
just when Steve thought his hustle was up, the front
door kicked open and Towns van z Aunt came crashing
through it, dragging the night behind him looking like it
(09:00):
cost him to do what he does. Sometimes that is
what we love an artist to be. A heroic reflection
of the struggle, gravity was re established around a new
star of the party. Van's aunt quickly took to a
game of craps and lost every dime he had along
with his beautiful buckskin jacket. Earl didn't share a word
(09:20):
with him that night. He didn't need to. He found
his hero and now it's your turn to crash Houston.
Right after this, when I traveled to Houston for this episode,
(09:43):
I had the best sound from my current favorites. Postonos.
Rome is an ultra portable smart speaker that is about
six inches tall and weighs less than a pound, so
it fits in your suitcase, your backpack, or your Fannie pack.
And when I dropped the suitcase down the escalator, I
didn't even have to work because of Rome has a
shock resistant design that protects it from falls or bumps
(10:05):
on hard surfaces. It was everything else that broke a
room was totally fine. My favorite feature is how long
a Rome battery lasts. No matter if you're on the
go or if you just forget to charge your room,
you can still enjoy listening to your favorite podcasts and
music for up to ten hours. And if you can't
find an outlet, you can charge your room in no
time with the custom designed wireless charger. So get rome
(10:27):
and get ready for your next adventure. Learn more in
shop three new exclusive colors at Sonos dot com. So
you've taken the Southwest Freeway or Highway fifty nine, or
(10:48):
a bus or train, or you rode a horse across
the plains into Houston. You just get there like your
seventeen year old Steve Earl Chase in the music. And
when you do, you will immediately start sweating. It is hot. Also,
it's probably hurricane season, so there's that. Being on the
Gulf of Mexico, you technically have now entered a humid
subtropical climate. But I digress. The point is you need
(11:11):
to unwind with a cold beverage and unclenched your weary body.
It's time to figure out your first stop. I suggest
you head to Midtown and find Axle Rat. If you
are thirsty, Axle Rat is ready to water you. It's
a beer garden, it's a music venue. It's a hammock
grove underneath a neon tree. No hallucinogenics involved. I'm not
a botanist, but there is a neon tree there. It's real,
(11:33):
and there's over thirty beers on tap and about a
hundred more bottled somewhere in the back of this once
upon a time grocery store from the mid twenties. You're
bound to get whatever your liquid itch you have scratched.
Like it's grocery store beginnings. Everyone is welcome, even dogs.
Since it opened in it has been a true community
hank spot and loves nothing more than featuring the best
(11:54):
local players while holding a hundred and fifty patrons. The
intimate floral decre immediately washes away the stress that comes
with getting anywhere these days, and the music at Axle
Rat is curated by Wonky Power Records, the local Latino
owned music production company that has been serving the kind
of diverse and talented nights to the venue that reflect
the melting pot of Houston, featuring some of the hottest
(12:16):
Houston musicians. Depending on the day you mosey in, you
might catch Cumbia Music Night with Sombayou, or maybe La Witch,
or here Kermit Rough and shredding on his trumpet As
you unwind underneath and neon tree. Some starlight that reaches
(12:39):
our eyes has long since burned out. Once upon a
time in Houston, one could open their front door and
wind up in a honky talk bar. Washed away the
workday with a cold, one ask someone to dance, and
spend the evening holding them tight for a two steps.
But those rooms have burned up upon entry into the
twenty one century, which makes the light of this stress
(12:59):
free spot shine even brighter. Shoe Shine Charlie's Big Top Lounge.
It looks like someone gave up halfway trying to convert
a toy store into a bar. It is the local
extension of the Continental Club, which is a more upscale,
big sibling room that in the past was integral for
acts like Stevie Ray, Vaughan and Double Trouble and Paul
Ray and the Cobras. The Big Top came to life
(13:20):
when vintage circus paintings were found preserved on the walls,
and soon discovered that the building was home to Playhouse Toys,
a Houston institution for many years beginning in the nineteen forties.
The name is a tribute to the master of ceremonies.
Shoe Shine Charlie Miller. Charlie was pulled down to Houston
as soon as the new Continental Club was up and
running to lend a hand to the manager, Pete Gordon. Really,
(13:43):
he was there to whip him into shape and give
him hell, as well as keep all the musicians in
line too. Everyone who knew Charlie loved and adored him,
but they would never risk the backlash standing too close
to a shine Stand nicknamed Pitiful without getting a buff.
His band introductions were legend dairy and a true honor
when Charlie would bring them up on stage and butcher
(14:04):
their names like Ali Hondo, Escalator, or loudly and proudly
announcing Jonathan Richmond on stage at the Continental Club as
Jonathan Winters. Charlie has passed, but as shine Stand watches
over the Big Top nightly with pride, especially on their
no cover Tuesdays for Christopher Seymour's Horny Tonk Knights. Seymour,
(14:25):
a songwriter from the rolling pine covered hills up state
South Carolina, also felt the polt to Houston. There is
a golden era tamper Pepper throughout his show and a
hell of a good time, but you can feel the
lineage listening to the band play and Big Top on
a Tuesday night. It's a divine no cover stop and
two stepping is strongly encouraged. The nerves, or the common
(14:52):
name the butterflies. They don't arrive and take over the performer.
The same for every show venue or stage. Some gigs
are infest it with butterflies and some not at all.
It's possible there is only one little pack that just
travels around artists to artists, delivering anxiety to every performer
waiting in a green room. But some venues have their
very own species of relentless butterfly nerves, like those curated
(15:16):
and bread. Over the fifty plus years that Anderson Fair
retail restaurant has existed against all the odds, standing the
test of time for all those songwriters that just want
to step into a simple spotlight before a blissful, silent dark.
Decades of music has passed down generation to generation in
the Montrose area of Houston, an ideal nesting ground for butterflies.
(15:40):
They've staggered, drunk on whiskey and unwelcome from the belly
of towns Van's Aunt into the mouth of Nancy Griffith
to sober up and then dance a little closer in
the heart of Guy Clark as he sang, ain't no
money of poetry. That's what sets the poet free. I've
had all the freedom I can stand a line that
(16:00):
only strengthens the swarm. They know they can get to you,
because there is a galaxy worth of artists who will
do this no matter what, as long as there is
a building with a stage to stand on in a fair,
as the regulars call it still stands with the help
of every hammer, every nail, and every volunteer over the years,
being the most significant room in the state of Texas
(16:22):
for the solo acoustic performer. In the nineteen seventies, when
it really was a little village, the sign could say close,
but there will be thirty people inside. It was a
world inside a bubble. So this gaggle of butterflies have
spent time in the hearts and minds of Robert Earl,
Keane Slade Cleaves and Rambling Jack Elliott, leaving their mark
(16:43):
even after you left the stage. Because if you want
to come back again to play Anderson Fair, you better
have a new song. You better have too, not for
the radio or mass consumption, but a song to share
that isn't for everyone, but a song for someone or something.
The but her flies got to Lucinda Williams and tried
to get those seeds that would bear the fruits of
(17:04):
her labors. Their tireless wings added more weight into the
poetry of Eric Taylor's lyrics, and they did try with
John Vanderver, but he seemed to enjoy their company a
little too much. And then there's the young journalist who
had been covering shows and artists for the college paper.
When Lyle Lovett finally got his shot at opening a
show and not just writing about it. If he never
(17:25):
got down, he stayed up there for years, harnessing those
monarchs and blue wings until he was ready to take
his songs to the rest of the country. I'm sure
some a fair butterflies went with him, but certainly not
all in that kaleidoscope of flutters would disperse if they
ever saw towns Van's aunt approach the rickety front door again.
(17:46):
Some legends are beyond their sway, fostering artists like Griffith
and love It for the rest of the country to
fall in love with. In the nineteen eighties, only encourage
the power of the jitters you get approaching the stage
at a fair. Now they are relentless. They have all
that history built up in their wings and their cocky
as hell, all because of the songs and the songwriters
(18:08):
that have taken the stage and instilled the legacy a
true listening room where they have, on occasion handed money
back to a talker so they can enjoy their night elsewhere.
But it rarely happens. It feels too good to be there,
like arriving at a family home preparing the most important
meal of the day. Artists don't covet the stage at
Anderson Fair for money or fame. They get up there
(18:30):
to live and who doesn't want to listen to that? Now?
I can't ask you to waste your time in search
engines looking for good food in this gumpo of cultures
(18:51):
responsible for one of the best food scenes in the country.
There are over ten thousand restaurants representing cuisine for more
than seventy countries. So let me just narrow it down
to a manageable level and get you fed with the
pre and post concert eat First Up Street Kitchen a
true hidden gem, and please don't tell our other hidden gem.
(19:11):
I said that there are seven tables. It seats maybe
thirty people tops, and it's in Houston's hip East End. Now,
to be a Thai restaurant and call yourself street to
kitchen means you plan to bring the real deal. It's
the brainchild of chef Ben Chawan Painter and Graham Painter.
They bring fresh, authentic Thai food and spirit to Houston.
Not that water down, sugarloaded americanized tie where you pat
(19:33):
yourself on the bag for a little spice, but a
place where the spice actually has flavor and dimension. And
then there's your post show. Maybe you've gone to some
classic rooms in town already announced late and you realized
you're starting for top notch late night Vietnamese in midtown.
My restaurant is a Houston institution serving out of this
world Foe stir fried noodles and traditional Vietnamese food long
(19:56):
into the night on the weekends, and you won't be alone.
It's a below of your family owned restaurant that's been
serving the late and early crowds since the nineteen seventies.
Anthony Bourdain called their Foe the best in America. Steaming
bowl will be your best bet to refuel your jets
after a night of club hopping around town, and there
(20:18):
are many ways to melt your face in Houston just
being there. It's likely to happen. Some nights you need
the truth and wet and weariness of a songwriter to
shadow your heart and thus make it whole. Other nights,
you're willing to sacrifice a few brain cells to get
your hair blown back by a hard hitting rock band.
I get it. So I'd like to suggest a location
where you can align this melting of the body with
(20:40):
the melting that a great night of music will catalyze
within you. Plan an evening at the White Oak Music Hall,
a beautiful new complex built in two thousand and sixteen.
It's a major stop for national acts hitting the highways,
as well as the most talented local and regional cats
in the area. There are three different stages in this
one venue, providing a Goldilocks frame of how to get
(21:01):
melted if you are in the mood for a show
under the stars and the Big Texas Sky. The Lawn
stage is an outdoor amphitheater type of setup which can
hold three thousand folks and has a gorgeous view of
the Bayou in the Houston skyline. It also has a
cross berreeze, which on a hot night in Texas is
like striking oil. The big names come through here Tam
and Pola, Flaming Lips, Vampire Weekend, Glass Animals, and Deaf Tones.
(21:23):
Head inside and you've got two increasingly intimate options upstairs
or downstairs. Downstairs is the music hall, and here, within
the wood paneled walls with a sound and warmth reverberates,
three hundred to one thousand people can commune in song
and or dance. An approachable stage with excellent sight lines
and a two tiered bar are ready for you to
see the likes of Leon Bridges, Marcus Mumford, Two Chains,
(21:47):
Mitsky and Purity Ring. And if you are still craving
a room with more snuggle, head upstairs to the stage
room for the most intimate of settings. This one will
surely fit just right. You went up to two hundred
of your closest friend can gather around to hear the
notes between the notes from troubadours, local acts and rockers
with a soft touch like William Fitzsimmons, Charlotte Sands and
(22:09):
Man Man. It's important to remember that a good face
melting comes in all decibels and sizes. A city with
so many seats in rooms is a challenge to establish
which exactly gets the distinction of the Vatican of Houston
such a big town kind of feel like on the
other way with it, we stopped at some very big
(22:30):
rooms this season. Maybe it's time to ignore size and
get a ticket to influence. Since mcgonagall's Mucky Duck has
been pulling in the singer songwriters and troubadours of independent music.
Without this room and Anderson Fair, it's hard to imagine
Houston having such a rich history when it comes to
singer songwriters and mcgonagall's Mucky Duck. You're up close, and
(22:51):
when I say close, I mean you're sitting on the
lap of the performer. Imagine if your cool friend had
a very large living room, installed an excellent sound system,
created a chill and subtle nightclub vibe, and build a
stage to host first class performers. You would want to
be there and you would feel at home. Except they
have a much fuller bar than your friend, and a
friendly waite staff who come table side, ever so quietly,
(23:12):
to take your order before and during the show. The
Duck what the locals call it, encourages patrons to arrive
an hour early to find their table, get comfortable and
order some food and drink. It's an Irish pub that
doubles as an intimate venue. You fit in with a
guinness and some fish and chips. It's a family affair here,
so if you don't have someone to drop the kids
off with, you can bring them along, provided they can
(23:34):
behave with a proper decorum during the show. No kids
that need iPads. Once the lights go down, prepared to
have your spirit and soul quenched by the music presented
in the truest and purest form. There's nowhere to hide.
There is no stage show. It's just the audience and
the performers, pure and simple, the most essential elements. There
is a simple philosophy for this family owned business run
(23:57):
by Rusty and Teresa Andrews. Make the artists the customers
feel welcome and appreciated. They've always put a premium on
nurturing up and coming artists and helping them build a falling.
This is on display during their Monday night open mic
where locals and maybe you have an opportunity to get
up on stage and work their craft in a sympathetic environment.
The stage is boasted past acts like j. J. Kale,
(24:18):
Terry Allan, Zach Brown, and Richie Havens, to name just
a few, and the calendar is always packed with a
wide range of performers. And in good fashion, they have
kept their Irish pub roots alive by hosting Tannehill, Weavers, Soulless,
and Maura O'Connell. This Vatican stop as another testament to
a city that loves their songwriters. We've all heard the
(24:47):
saying everything is bigger in Texas, But what is it
exactly that's bigger. Is it the land mass, the number
of rattlesnakes, the hair, the sky, the dreams? The answer
is yes to all of the above, so core it
makes sense that Houston also hosts the biggest rodeo event
in the world that happens to be a twenty day
music festival that features the brightest stars in music. Truly,
(25:11):
if you want to immerse yourself in the event that
proves Texas is bigger, get your calendar situated anywhere from
the end of February through mid March for the Houston
Live Stock Show and Rodeo, an event where you can
actually buy a cow or watch cowboys riding rough stock
and barrel men running for their lives. And once the
(25:31):
dust settles in, the stage lights switch on the likes
of Gwen Stefani, Keith Urban, Tim McGraw, kaled To Knee Tijuana,
or Marion Morris will serenade you into the evening. It's
wild and richly Texans. This event also raises tons of
money for Texas youth educational programs and has been a
real institution here in Houston since nineteen thirty two. But
(25:56):
if Rodeo's really aren't your thing, maybe the We Are
One Fest is the calendar event for you. In mid November,
this event turns the Eleanor Tinsley Park into a two
day dance party. The One Fest is the brainchild of
local musicians who saw a hole in that great, big
lone star sky that needed some filling, a place where E, D, M,
rap and hip hop could all crash into each other
(26:17):
in a glorious cacophony of beats and verse and vibe.
Art is also a huge part of this festival, and
local muralists and street artists like Amber Slaughter and Rachel
Harvey turned the scene into a wild technicolor dream with
a creation of live installation and art pieces while the
Baby Gucci, Maine Grimes, Poppy Chief Keith in Virtual Wall
(26:39):
turn up the dial to ten and keep the crowd
vibrating for the next forty eight hours. Make sure to
keep an eye on the dates, as this sometimes as
held in May, but has been moving the timing around
the past couple of years, and now we have our
hit in gem. It's a sultry evening in Houston. Humidity
(26:59):
index is maybe it's a Tuesday, but it's already been
a hell of a week, and you're desperate for a
reprieve from reality, from the bottomless inbox, from the mundanity
of the day. Times like this, it's important to remember
a good taco, a sweet melody, and a Medelo negro
can save your soul. You find yourself drawn to the
Warehouse district in the northeast side of downtown. The big,
(27:21):
blocky buildings have a sort of anonymity that feels comforting
to your current state of being. Over all of this,
suddenly you're hit by a ribbon of music sneaking down
the sidewalk and you follow your ears to a building
with no sign you try to open the orange door,
it's locked. This place is incognito, which only makes you
want to see what's on the other side of the
portal even more. You realize there is actually a small
(27:43):
sign and it only says knocked twice. You do. Miraculously,
somebody lets you in, and it's like you're in one
of those movies that are in black and white, and
then suddenly it's switched to color. Well, welcome to the
Last Concert Cafe. It's warm, eccentric, full of bright colors,
a hodgepodge of influences and art and pink flamingos and
(28:04):
interconnected dining spaces that empty out into a beautiful open
air courtyard ending in a stage flanked by palm trees.
And yes, you will get the music and the medello
in that coveted taco. The food is on points, serving
authentic homemade text max every night. Local regional and internationally
acclaimed music acts who know to knock twice swing through
(28:24):
their Victor Wootton Gangs, the Grass and the Whalers could
be grace in the stage. Billy Gibbons of zz Top
is known to stop by on Thursday nights to catch
tunes and You're likely to run into any number of
local politicians and artists and weirdos here all in the
Chill list of moods. It's considered one of the most welcoming, expressive,
and creative experiences in Houston. Not bad for a place
(28:46):
no one can find with a locked front door. It's
yet another star amongst the Houston skyline that will exert
its magnetic pool, a true hidden gem. Okay, A few
things to prepare for your trip to Houston. First is
the documentary for the Sake of the Song. It's up
(29:06):
on YouTube and it's all about Anderson Fair and you
can hear from Lyle love It, Nancy Griffith, and you
can even see some performances from John van de verg.
You could also watch Urban Cowboy and see if John
Travolta is convincing as a cowboy. Or you could read
China Barry Sidewalks by Rodney Crowell. He put down his
guitar depend this rough and rowdy memoir of a kid
(29:28):
growing up in dirt poor Houston, something like a nineteen
fifties version of Tom Sawyer. You'll navigate the backwaters and
backyards of southeastern Texas with a young Crowell as your
tour guide. You'll be sitting front row in the beer soaked,
nicotine stained dance halls as the Houston Kid is exposed
to the wonders in the life affirming words and rhythm
of Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins.
(29:52):
Soaked in nostalgia, humor and sorrow. It's a full slice
of American pie, don't Texas Alam Modes style? Uh Yeah.
A couple of months after Steve Earl crashed Jerry Jeff
Walker's birthday party, he was on stage at the Iconic
(30:13):
Old Quarter getting heckled by a guy in the front
row with requests for Wabash cannonball. Think of it as
a folk room version of somebody yelling Freebird. Unflinching and
fearless even at seventeen, Steve Earl looked the heckler in
the eye, and, as best as one can make eye
contact with their hero, he delivered a spot on version
of Town van Zance lyrically complex Mr Mud and Mr
(30:36):
Gold directly to the songwriter himself. Thus began a friendship,
one that sustained Earl through his rise of the songwriting ranks.
Of Houston and beyond. Even after van Zance passing, Earl
released a cover album of his songs in two thousand
and nine, a connection that also played a role in
saving Steve Earl's life after he watched his hero passed
(30:56):
two young and fifty two, after a life of excess
in connection. That's it. That's what this podcast exists for.
Our digital connections are powerful and far flung, but it
has nothing on the act of standing in a room,
shoulder to shoulder, face to face. The artist needs it,
the audience is needed. The sonic exploration and creation and
introspection feeds so much. It's where we find authenticity to
(31:19):
uncover the vastness of our existence a few chords at
a time, but with your heart and with style. Like
the constellations have done up above, it maps out our lives.
The songs are more points of light connecting us through
space and time. The lineage of artists working together, chasing
each other, drawn to one another, that helps us, bringing everyone,
(31:40):
every chord, every sound, every word to keep oiling that
machine that helps us get from moment to moment, town
to town, heartbreak to crush and back again. The artists
need each other as much as we need you. I
got a call a few years back to open up
a show for Steve Earle, and I did a couple
more after that. It was a heavy night for me.
I fell pulled into orbit of not just Earl, but
(32:02):
of the path. It's hard for us to stay on
our path, no matter what it is. But should the
fates allow, we all have a ride to hitch in,
a party to crash at some point if we have
the courage and one more thing. Shortly after the murder
(32:22):
of John Van de Ver, his friend Bill Callings closed
up his one man guitar shop and dedicated himself defining
the murderers. Refusing to let the case for his friend,
a relatively unknown songwriter and his girlfriend go dark. Callings
worked with the Houston police to apprehend the killers and
send them to prison. Turns out the skills acquired for
the meticulous construction and repair of guitars was applicative to
(32:44):
cracking cases, but again it speaks more to the power
of friendship and music. With the ghosts laid to rest,
the guitar maker returned to his craft and began building
guitars again, and today Callings Guitars currently employs eighty four
people and make some of the bighest and most renowned
instruments in the world, turning out three thousand a year.
(33:05):
Bill Collings passed away in two thousand and seventeen. I
feel like he imagined many guitars that he crafted over
the years in the hands of John vanderver maybe on
stage at Anderson Fair. It is common to say that
we are defined by our actions and our words. That
may just be a short way to say that we
are defined by who we love, the company that we
keep in the art that we make. Thank you for
(33:42):
listening to episode nine nine of Sound of Our Town.
We got two more cities to visit this season in
one extra episode. That's very special coming your way, and
we get to keep going. If you share this with
a friend, if you follow us wherever you listen to podcasts,
and if you leave a review on Apple Podcasts, if
(34:02):
you want to chat about the music scene in your city,
hit me up on Instagram at Will Daily Official or
on Twitter at Will Daily. Sound of Our Town is
a production of Double Elvis and I Heart Radio. Hit
us up on I G at Double Elvis and Twitter
at Double Elvis f M. If you want us to
cover your town, your venue, or your backyard. The show
is executive produced by Jake Brennan, Brady Sadler, and Carlikarioli
(34:23):
for Double Elvis. Production assistance by Matt Boden. This show
is created, written, and hosted and scored by me Will Daily.
Additional writing on this episode by Ed Jurdy and Samantha Ferrell.
For sources see the show notes. Music for this episode
was composed and performed by me Will Daily. You can
check out my music on Spotify, Apple, band Camp, and
always at will daily dot com. And now I'm off
(34:44):
to the next gig. I got in the next city
to cover for Sound of Our Town. I will see
you soon and thank you for your ears.
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