by Genevieve Williams
"Well he tied me with a plow line the next morning
And he had me deep in Texas the next day
A crazy screaming lynch mob waited in the streets of Austin
But he put me in the jailhouse and he threw the key away." Johnny Cash, "Austin Prison"
People in Austin are fond of saying that it's not like the rest of Texas. An odd claim to make for a state capital, perhaps, but there's something to the observation. The general perception is that Austin is artsier, funkier, and more liberal than the rest of the state, and if the perception is sometimes exaggerated, that doesn't mean that there's nothing to it. From its earliest years it was a municipal center, developing from a ranching and trading town into a high-tech city with a thriving music scene, highlighted by the long-running Austin City Limits music festival and by Antone's, one of the most famous blues clubs in the United States. As early as the late 1940s, unsung blues guitar hero Pee Wee Crayton wrote "Austin Boogie" in the city's honor.
6th Street is probably Austin's most famous avenue. Lined on both sides with clubs, bars, and restaurants, within a few blocks you can hear every kind of music known to Texas. Blues, country, Irish fiddle, salsa: it all meets and blends here in a massive melting pot. It's been possible to get a little lost on 6th Street, especially in the mid-to-late 1990s, when everyone was certain that Austin would be the next Seattle. Mike West, a South Louisiana singer-songwriter originally from Australia, sums it up rather neatly with "6th Street, Austin": "Then you must've been lost in/6th street in Austin/Wondering why you were still here/Looking for a cowboy with a college education/To buy you a Mexican beer." The prestigious South by Southwest music festival has been held in Austin since 1987, tapping into deep musical roots that make the city a cultural center for musicians of all stripes. Michael Martin Murphey, the "Cosmic Cowboy," based himself in Austin in the early 1970s, and in the song "Alleys of Austin" compared the city's music to a heavenly jam: "In the alleys of Austin and Heaven/The song they're playing is the same/The jam sessions sound like the gutters/As the muddy licks and sticks roll down the drain." Not that Austin hasn't changed: country musician and music historian Doug Sahm's "Cowboy Peyton Place," released after his death in 1999, is a homage to the city of 25 years past, written and sung with a pleasing ironic touch that the uninitiated tend not to associate with country music.
Though Austin is considered by many to be Texas' most charming city--and often its hippest as well, which isn't the same thing--West's observations concerning getting lost have been echoed by others, not least by classic country singer Jean Shepard, whose "All Alone in Austin" is as sad and lonely as only country can be. More recently, rising country star Blake Shelton's highly imaginative "Austin" identifies the city with a woman in a song about a couple who work out their differences on their answering machines: "She left without leavin' a number/Said she needed to clear her mind/He figured she'd gone back to Austin/'Cause she talked about it all the time." And although she hails from Dallas, Texas singer-songwriter Shelley Laine likewise identifies Austin with love in the song "Back to Austin": "So what are you waiting for, get on back to Austin/Get in that car, take your heart to the highway." On the other hand, Texas blues/country/rock/funk/singer-songwriter (whew!) Tom Faulkner declares that the best response to love's disappointments is to "Get Out of Austin," while the aforementioned Sahm declares that "I Can't Go Back to Austin" because of painful memories.
Austin has inspired some odd songs in its time. Most people are familiar with Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues," but there's a more obscure Cash tune called "Austin Prison," which has a somewhat different emphasis. While the narrator of the former song is avowedly guilty, there's some question as to the guilt of the latter: "A jury found me guilty three months later, twelve evil men with murder in their eyes/They even took me out and said now show us where you killed her/And that wicked judge said now I hereby sentence you to die/But here I am far away from Austin prison, my friend the jailer handed me a file." Then there's Johnny Winter's "Busted in Austin," which suggests that Austin just isn't a good place to break the law. And from way out on the fringe, there's the suite from ambient-sound duo Stars of the Lid, titled "Austin Texas Mental Hospital," showing that roots music isn't all that Austin has to offer.
Different from the rest of Texas Austin may be, but that doesn't stop the rest of Texas from acknowledging it. The blending and mixing of musical genres observed in Austin is a quality of Texas music in general; consider, for instance, Houston keyboardist Ezra Charles, who inhabits a territory somewhere between swing, rockbilly, and blues, and who's certainly not above a "Weekend in Austin." Even if, like country singer Shelley King, you're not ready to buy a "One Way Ticket to Austin," it might be worth your while to join local country-rockers the Shakin' Apostles for some "Austin Texas Blues."
Genevieve Williams is a freelance writer specializing in music, book reviews, and film. She is a former music editor for Amazon.com and a regular contributor to Blues Revue.
