As the Director of the Center for Texas Music History at Texas State University, I’m excited to stay on top of all that’s being done in the field of Texas Music and let me assure you that it is a great way to spend one’s days. Texas music and culture reflect the state’s diverse and contested past, and every month, it seems that there is not only a new artist appearing on the stage to sing her or his truth but a writer helping us to understand how those truths fit into the larger narratives of Texas history.
I wrote
Progressive Country: How the 1970s Transformed the Texan in Popular Culture
This is one of the books that had me inserting an unsolicited “did you know that...” into just about every conversation I had while reading it. Terry Allen is a singular visual and musical artist whose story exemplifies what a rich and contrarian place Texas is.
I knew something of what I might find in a Terry Allen biography, and yet there’s so much more: 1950s Lubbock wrestling promoters and Thai psychedelic bands, David Byrne and Marcel Duchamp, and, most compellingly, the lifelong love of partners Terry and Jo Harvey Allen. I cannot imagine many authors up for the task.
Brendan Greaves expertly delivers as one of those rare characters who understands that Allen’s roles in fine art and country music are not only on equal footing but of a piece. Greaves also oversaw the masterful reissue of Allen’s iconic albums Juarez and Lubbock on Everything, which makes it all the sweeter.
Drawing on hundreds of interviews with Allen himself, his family members (including actor and poet Jo Harvey Allen, his wife and artistic partner of more than sixty years), and his many notable friends, colleagues, and collaborators (from musicians like David Byrne and Kurt Vile to artists such as Bruce Nauman and Kiki Smith); full access to the artist's home, studio, and voluminous journals and archives; and over twenty years of collaboration and friendship with Allen, author Brendan Greaves limns a revealing portrait, as deeply researched as it is intimate, as provocative as it is poetic, of a singularly multivalent storyteller…
Tara Lopez suggests something new, prioritizing punk’s diverse expression over its tired origin myths. By turning our attention to the 1990s El Paso scene that produced bands like At the Drive-In, Lopez gives us a granular, expressive take on all the things that draw us to punk: its liberatory potential, DIY ethos, and ability to impact individual lives.
Through accessible oral histories, we get a sense of how vital punk rock could be against the backdrop of border politics and in a scene off the beaten path where DIY takes on new meanings. As a punk-curious 90s adolescent myself who listened in on El Paso from Austin, Dallas, and South Texas, this account resonated deeply—there was much that was familiar, but even more to learn.
An immersive study of the influential and predominantly Chicanx punk rock scene in El Paso, Texas.
Punk rock is known for its daring subversion, and so is the West Texas city of El Paso. In Chuco Punk, Tara Lopez dives into the rebellious sonic history of the city, drawing on more than seventy interviews with punks, as well as unarchived flyers, photos, and other punk memorabilia. Connecting the scene to El Paso's own history as a borderland, a site of segregation, and a city with a long lineage of cultural and musical resistance, Lopez throws readers into the heat of…
I met Eddie Wilson in the early 2000s, and hearing his stories over a meal at his restaurant Threadgill’s (the spot where Janis Joplin got her start) put me on the road to becoming a Texas music historian. With a glint in his eye, he would describe the unbelievable goings-on at the Armadillo World Headquarters, the Austin venue he created in 1970: Willie Nelson’s transformation on finding hippie audiences, Bruce Springsteen trying to prove himself in Central Texas, Australian rockers AC/DC in their first American appearance, live recordings of Frank Zappa and Freddie King.
This book, a history of the Armadillo and a memoir of Wilson’s time in it, is as comforting, funny, and engaging as sitting down over a chicken-fried steak and hearing those stories firsthand. Wilson’s writing partner, Jesse Sublett, expertly shapes Wilson’s speaking voice for the printed page. Stir in a gallery of the Armadillo’s vibrant poster art as an appendix, and you have an instant classic.
The book isn’t as new as the others here, but it’s ready to be new again as Eddie Wilson turns his attention to a podcast version of the book, talking with the musicians and artists who called the influential venue home. Be on the lookout.
"Eddie's story is by turns hilarious, informative, and the living spirit of its age...[He] piles the most unlikely anecdotes on top of one another, creating a land of enchantment and an order of chemically altered consciousness that rescues an era I'd thought not so much lost as forgotten. Not only am I thrilled I've read this story and wish I was in it, I wish I'd written it." -Dave Marsh, from the foreword "The Armadillo World Headquarters ...was one of the most exciting, and remained one of the most exciting, places in the United States for the years that it…
If the Armadillo World Headquarters is one central node of countercultural country music in Texas, Willie Nelson’s Fourth of July Picnics was the other. Where the Armadillo closed down in 1980, though, Willie’s picnics persist as an annual institution to this day. Author Dave Thomas has extensively researched the phenomenon and crafts its half-century history well.
The resulting volume is a riveting account that uses the sun-baked Texas ritual as a launching pad for stories encompassing all of America. A newspaper journalist, Thomas has an eye for detail and an ear for turns of phrase that kept me turning the pages long after I should have turned out the lights. If you ever wanted to read about a sort of country music, Woodstock Groundhog Day, this is that book.
In 1973, a forty-year-old country musician named Willie Nelson, inspired by a failed music festival the year before, decided he was going to hold his own party. He would stage it in the same remote and rocky field where the previous festival had withered. And he’d do it in July: not the hottest part of the Central Texas summer, but “damn sure close enough,” according to music journalist Dave Dalton Thomas. As unlikely as it seemed in 1973, Willie kept the event going, minus a year off here and there, for half a century.
Lead Belly is a ghost that haunts all of American music. His voice is at the center of Bob Dylan’s folk revival as much as it is behind the Beatles’ British Invasion. When Nirvana made their final live recording, they closed with a Lead Belly tune, Kurt proclaiming that Lead Belly was his favorite artist. And yet, when most people talk about Lead Belly, they are repeating lore propagated by a small group of white folklorists and gatekeepers rather than seeing Lead Belly—that is, Huddie Ledbetter—as a full historical individual with agency in his own story.
In this deeply researched account, Curran corrects the record. I was riveted by her ability to re-center Ledbetter and draw a complex portrait of the man while also placing him within the wider context of racial exclusions and white supremacy in the midcentury music industry and academy. Much of the world’s popular and vernacular music sounds different to me now, with Curran’s retelling of Lead Belly’s story also in my ears.
Known worldwide as Lead Belly, Huddie Ledbetter (1889-1949) is an American icon whose influence on modern music was tremendous - as was, according to legend, the temper that landed him in two of the South's most brutal prisons, while his immense talent twice won him pardons. But, as this deeply researched book shows, these stories were shaped by the white folklorists who 'discovered' Lead Belly and, along with reporters, recording executives, and radio and film producers, introduced him to audiences beyond the South. Through a revelatory examination of arrest, trial, and prison records; sharecropping reports; oral histories; newspaper articles; and…
My book explores the foundations of the Austin music scene in the countercultural 1970s, a moment when, as the story goes, the “hippies” and the “rednecks” came together around a new style of country-rock music in venues like the Armadillo World Headquarters and Soap Creek Saloon and through artists like Willie Nelson and Doug Sahm. The developments put Austin on the map, leading to the global success of the South by Southwest festival and the Austin City Limits television program.
In a broader sense, the book uses that scene to examine Texas's identity in the rapidly changing 1970s. The progressive country flourished against the backdrop of civil rights and women’s liberation, the oil crisis and Watergate, Vietnam, and the partisan realignment of the Lone Star State.
I come by my interest in history and the years before, during, and after the Second World War honestly. For one thing, both my father and my father-in-law served as pilots in the war, my father a P-38 pilot in North Africa and my father-in-law a B-17 bomber pilot in England. Their histories connect me with a period I think we can still almost reach with our fingertips and one that has had a momentous impact on our lives today. I have taken that interest and passion to discover and write true life stories of the war—focusing on the untold and unheard stories often of the “Average Joe.”
October 24, 1944, is not a day of national remembrance. Yet, more Americans serving in World War II perished on that day than on any other single day of the war.
The narrative of No Average Day proceeds hour by hour and incident by incident while focusing its attention on ordinary individuals—clerks, radio operators, cooks, sailors, machinist mates, riflemen, and pilots and their air crews. All were men who chose to serve their country and soon found themselves in a terrifying and otherworldly place.
No Average Day reveals the vastness of the war as it reaches past the beaches in…
October 24, 1944, is not a day of national remembrance. Yet, more Americans serving in World War II perished on that day than on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, or on June 6, 1944, when the Allies stormed the beaches of Normandy, or on any other single day of the war. In its telling of the events of October 24, No Average Day proceeds hour by hour and incident by incident. The book begins with Army Private First-Class Paul Miller's pre-dawn demise in the Sendai #6B Japanese prisoner of war camp. It concludes with the death…
