My buddy Shelfo is always reminding me that “music is a force,” and, yes, it most certainly is.
Leave it to the Good Lord to bless our mortal, earthbound existence with the tools to create and combine rhythm, melodies and storytelling, as well as the ability to appreciate those combined elements. Together, those factors transcend cultural boundaries and speak directly to the soul.
East Texas has been a fertile lot of soil for many great music-makers to plow and harvest bountiful yields throughout the years. From the roots of boogie-woogie emerging from Marshall in the 1870’s to the soulful sounds of singer/songwriters as varied and eclectic as Clint Alford; Kim Cruse; Heather Little; Tommy Simpson and so, so, so many others in this day and age, there’s a wellspring of musical magic to be discovered from within the region.
As I sit to cobble the ensuing list together, it’s December, and a time when many custodians of public opinion are given to creating “best of” lists or compiling noteworthy news and events for the year and ranking them somehow. The purpose of this is not to provide a definitive best of/greatest hits of East Texas music, nor are these records ranked in any ascending or descending order, but to showcase some artists and bands’ work that you might want to check out.
As far as the criteria for what is listed here goes, all of these are full-length records. There are a metric ton of great East Texan acts working and recording now, and putting out singles, but for the sake of this endeavor, I wanted to stick with full-length albums that carry the listener through some sort of journey. Also, again, there’s a ton of great music out there, but as far as genres go, what I’ve stuck with here is mostly representative of the singer/songwriter trope or blues/rock bands.
Another caveat: as the whole point goes, every band or artist listed below, or the resulting album, has to have some sort of East Texan tie-in. One more thing before we get started: every one of these artists/bands, with the exceptions of Lightnin’ and Townes, are acts that I’ve seen live, and many of them multiple times. While the focus of this list is on the records described, do yourself a favor and go out and catch these acts live when you can.
There’s always going to be a need for live music, as long as people have the need to get out and have some fun. Although some East Texans would be loath to admit being seen in a honky-tonk to catch a band, there’s always some musical magic being made, not just in bars and whatnot, but also in coffee shops, restaurants and all sorts of other gathering places, and chances are on any given night, that magic is taking place not too far from wherever you hang your hat.
A round-up of some great East Texan discs:
–––– Lightnin’ Hopkins ––––
Texas Blues Man (1967, Arhoolie) – There really is no method to how this list is presented. Not chronologically or grouped by different types of sounds, BUT it would seem criminal to not put Sam “Lightnin’” Hopkins in the pole position.
Lightnin’, who was a product of Centerville, and spent a great deal of time around Crockett, was the walking definition of the word “mojo,” and although the number of songs out there that he recorded are legion, this 1967 collection really demonstrates what a mesmerizing presence Lightnin’ Hopkins really was. With just his voice and an electric guitar, Lightnin’ compels the listener to “Watch My Fingers” on one cut, on which he shows his unique guitar prowess, which is unmistakable even to casual blues fans.
Songs like “Slavery,” “Tom Moore Blues” and “Bud Russell Blues” could be covered by others, sure, but Lightnin’ owns these songs. Nobody has ever come close to capturing the sort of mojo of Mr. Hopkins, and nobody will.
–––– Willis Alan Ramsey ––––
Willis Alan Ramsey (1972, Shelter Recording Co.) – To date, the “green album” as some fans have referred to the self-titled masterpiece from the bard of Highland Park is the only album. For many years, when asked about the status of a follow-up, Ramsey would quip, “Well, what’s wrong with the first one?” Reportedly, a second album is, at last, in the works, but this writer ain’t holding his breath.
What’s here is a sort of Rosetta Stone for Cosmic American Music, and though Ramsey is more thought of as a product of North Texas (by way of Alabama), part of this record was tracked in Tyler, and he used to play a lot of shows in Nacogdoches, way back when.
Songs like “Northeast Texas Women” and “Satin Sheets” seem embedded as a part of our DNA at this point, and to hear the original “Muskrat Candlelight,” which the Captain and Tenille covered as “Muskrat Love,” with the ridiculous synthesizer sounds, is downright captivating. In Ramsey’s hands, the song sounds like something that has been amid our consciousness all along as opposed to the exercise in cheese that “Captain” Daryl Dragon and Toni Tenille made of it.
Willis’s record has been out of print for many blue moons, but he’s on Spotify now, if you’re into that sorta thing.
–––– Townes Van Zandt ––––
Live at the Old Quarter, Houston, Texas (1977, Tomato) – The man whom no less than Jack Ingram once proclaimed as the Christlike figure of Texas country music had his finest moments on record with a live double album recorded in downtown Houston at the original Old Quarter location.
The album, which strips everything down to the bare essentials of Townes’ voice, his guitar and those incredible songs, of course, is one of the most incredible collections of great songs in the American canon.
Imagine this scenario if you will: an album of songs so amazing that it OPENS with “Pancho and Lefty.” Yep, that’s what you get here. Nothing but killer and absolutely zero filler. From Townes channeling Lightnin’ Hopkins on “Brand New Companion” to hilarious talking blues numbers (“Fraternity Blues” and “Talkin’ Thunderbird Blues”), the man was at the peak of his powers when these songs were delivered before a rapt audience in 1973. When the recordings from those live performances were released to the public in 1977, Townes’s legend had grown substantially, but it would take friends like Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard to bring his godlike songwriting skills to mainstream audiences through covers of his songs.
–––– Gabe Wootton ––––
Old Quarter Live Sessions, Volume One (2020, Old Quarter Records) – Like the cornerstone record listed above this’n, any recorded document of Gabe Wootton needs to focus, simply, on the man delivering his songs. Wootton’s debut album, which was the first release on Old Quarter Records, was recorded before a live audience at the new Old Quarter, in Galveston.
There are traces of Van Zandt, Prine, Mississippi John Hurt and others in Wootton’s songs and performances, but at the end of the day, nobody is doing what Gabe Wootton is doing. A product of the East Texas Pines now calling the island home, it was more than appropriate that Wootton’s first dive into publicly available recorded product be a solo acoustic live album.
Catchy and poignant in his songwriting, Wootton’s performances are all strong of voice, and his guitar ranges from strummy barroom bard fare to delicate fingerpicking, and of course, with Gabe Wootton, there are enough hilarious between-song jokes and stories that make it worth the price of admission themselves. While the ethereal greatness of a song like “Ghosts” must be heard, so must the story about the weed eater with the handlebars. Trust me on this one.
–––– George Jones ––––
50 years of Hits (2004, Sugar Hill) – Is there any wonder, given the richness of stories and cultures that settled the region that one of our nation’s greatest musical treasures hailed from East Texas?
George Jones, the great “Possum,” himself, grew up in Saratoga, and for a while lived near Colmesneil, where he owned and operated Jones Country, of which many folks still have fond memories of great shows. This late-career retrospective covers a lot of ground, and songs like “Window Up Above” show what a great songwriter Jones was early in his career. His takes on classics like “Bartender’s Blues,” and of course, “He Stopped Loving Her Today” still sound as fresh and poignant now as they ever did.
I once knew a guy who hated George Jones’s music, and since that revelation, I don’t believe I’ve spoken to him.
–––– Willie Nelson ––––
Nacogdoches (2004, Pedernales Records) – Nacogdoches is not one of the better-known records in Willie’s discography, but the album, which was recorded at Dana Woods’s Encore Studio in the town for which it’s named, is a fine showcase of songs, East Texan talent on the production side and the late, great Paul Buskirk, a Nacogdoches resident who was a sort of mentor to Willie when he was a young, struggling songwriter.
Buskirk co-produced the record with Willie, and plays mandolin on the songs, which are a showcase of standards. Willie had already done one landmark collection of standards in the ‘70s (Stardust) but this one should be special to East Texans given the context.
You might have heard “How High the Moon” and “Columbus Stockade Blues” done many times before, by countless others, but there’s just always something special about the way Willie Nelson makes a song his own.
–––– Michael O’ Neal ––––
Family Business (2014, self-released) – Already a cult hero among Texas country fanatics for his hardscrabble blue-collar ballad “7 12’s,” when he released Family Business, O’Neal is a pure poet.
His scratchy vocalizations and way of bending words to fit his meters and melodies is, in my mind, similar to the late, great bard of Athens, GA, Vic Chesnutt.
On Family Business, O’Neal writes about what he writes about better than anyone else: chronicles of his upbringing and poetic musings about family members and friends. As unique as O’Neal’s way of putting words together can be, there’s a universal conceit running through every one of the man’s songs. When you hear him sing about “Ms. Elsie,” who walks with a cane and is kinda shaped like a ball, and her gold Oldsmobile, you get it – we all had a caring “Ms. Elsie” in our neighborhoods, growing up, or somewhere in our childhoods.
O’Neal’s song “Brown Uniform,” about his mother’s struggles in working to raise he and his sister is one of the best-written lyrics you’re liable to hear, and when he sings about a tear brought to his eye while watching his sister walk down the aisle in “Jenny Lee,” you’ll find yourself affected in the same way.
–––– Adam Carroll ––––
Far Away Blues (2005, Blue Corn Publishing) – The “New Dylan” sensation was a thing that music writers once upon a time switched out names and faces of every so often. Generational talents such as Bruce Springsteen; John Prine; Tom Waits and Ryan Adams, among others, wore that tag, at one point in their careers. In Texas, however, the comparison to Townes Van Zandt is what really makes for a sustainable career as a singer/songwriter.
Adam Carroll, hailing from the Tyler area, got the Townes comparison a lot more than most of the literate twentysomething songster crowd of his day, when he first emerged from the crowded field as a favorite of the Cheatham Street Warehouse scene in San Marcos. Carroll is still going strong, and playing great shows, along with his wife, as a duo, but early albums like Far Away Blues make it easy to see how his legend was minted.
The uncluttered, uncomplicated arrangements (courtesy of producer and bona-fide Texas legend Lloyd Maines) create a feel of a good jam session on a backporch, or among a group of old-timers down at the fire station, or at the “AFL-CIO,” which is a song about just that sorta thing.
From rollicking (“Alright”) to beautiful (“Rice Birds,” “Love Song for my Family”), Carroll covers a lot of ground on this record. Several East Texan locales are namechecked throughout the lyrics on Far Away Blues, and although it’s hard to describe in so many words, this album just conveys that feel of the region.
–––– Toadies ––––
Rubberneck (1994, Interscope) – Although they are most associated with the Dallas-Fort Worth scene, particularly the early ‘90s cadre of bands labelled “The Fraternity of Noise,” the Toadies played so much in East Texas in their heyday that they might as well have been a regional act, plus their classic tune “Tyler” actually uses the titular locale for inspiration.
Frontman Todd Lewis, who now goes by the stately sounding Vaden Todd Lewis, has a scream for the ages, kind of like a southern-fried Robert Plant or Chris Cornell. He and his band’s brand of mojo is something akin to a cross-pollination of ZZ Top, AC/DC and the Talking Heads, and on some songs, like “Happy Face” and “Quitter,” Lewis’s presence comes across like Michael Douglas’s “Falling Down” character. It doesn’t help matters that if you look at live footage and music videos from the band’s ‘90s heyday, he kinda looks like “Falling Down” guy, but that’s another matter for another time.
Trends will come and go in music, but generations from now, kids will still be headbanging and singing along to the band’s massive hit “Possum Kingdom.”
–––– Beef Masters ––––
Psilocybin Rodeo (1995, self-released) – Ah, the halcyon daze of the ‘90s when anything loud, heavy and/or “grungy” could get some sort of traction, and indie experience was the equivalent of a Harvard MBA in the eyes of major record labels.
Nacogdoches’ own Beef Masters checked all those boxes and self-released their second album Psilocybin Rodeo. Known for their loud, raucous live shows and their accompanying trippy light shows, which included film collages of all manner of oddities, at the core of everything the band did was good, melodic songs. Multi-layered epics like “Blur” co-exist alongside raging slabs of hardcore like “Slow” and sludge-metal numbers like “Bugeyed” and “75.”
Sadly, this album, like so many indie releases of its era, is lost to the sands of time, but although it’s out of print, copies can be found for those willing to search. I will also say this about this band: movie producers in the late ‘90s missed a golden opportunity to utilize the band’s power ballad “Blur” in some teen thriller movie typical of the day’s zeitgeist, no doubt in a scene where key characters are leaving a party only to be faced with some unspeakable horror(s). If ever there were a song tailor-made for such a scenario, that’s the one.
–––– Country Willie Edwards ––––
Midnight Cowboy (2021, self-released) – There is a timelessness to Country Willie Edwards (no relation to this writer, unless I’m trying to impress you) and his music. Really, the man and his music are inseparable.
One look at him, and one listen to his seemingly endless flowing fountain of songs, and you’ll no doubt agree that the man was born to write and sing great songs. On his 2021 release Midnight Cowboy, Willie, along with longtime stalwart Thomas Oliver on drums/percussion, create an enormous sound with just the two of them, but with songs as good as “Angels of Antioch” and “When I’ve Finally Gone Crazy,” it’s not like they have to try too hard.
A product of the tiny farming community of Sardis, Willie really came into his own in the Nacogdoches music scene. Slowly, but surely, his gifts have been embraced by larger segments of the populace, including none other than Charley Crockett, who covered the title song off this record, and made it a highlight of his recent $10 Cowboy record.
–––– Kacey Musgraves ––––
Same Trailer, Different Park (2013, Mercury) – Golden’s own hometown heroine Kacey Musgraves had been kicking around for quite a while before her major label debut in 2013, and it seems just like yesterday, to me anyways, that her “Merry Go ‘Round” single stood starkly apart from just about everything else on pop country radio in its day.
Musgraves is a great vocalist and a singular songwriting talent, and although her music has gone in a more earthy, organic direction through the years, Same Trailer, Different Park is still a great song-to-song listen.
Catchy as though her songs might be, there’s an elevated consciousness afoot in everything she writes. Songs like the aforementioned single, which holds a sardonic lens to the monotonous lifestyles that seem commonplace with young people in many rural East Texan towns and “Follow Your Arrow,” which extols acceptance, curiosity and open-mindedness, both seemed so daring when they were release
–––– Heather Little ––––
By Now (2024, self-released) – Lindale native Heather Little is known, if at all, as the girl who wrote some massive hits for Miranda Lambert, but anyone in East Texas who has seen her perform, usually solo acoustic, can attest to her spellbinding qualities as a performer and songwriter.
Little’s By Now is about as much of a must-listen that I can think of released in 2024.
Harrowing songs like “Better by Now” and her own reading of “Gunpowder and Lead,” which more or less made her aforementioned fellow Lindale native’s career, are as great as anything you’re going to hear anywhere in recent memory. “Five Deer County” might be the most perfect, cinematic ballad I’ve heard since Chris Knight’s “Down the River.”
It’s also telling of the power of a young artist’s work when a legend like Patty Griffin takes part in the proceedings, which she does on “Hands Like Mine.” n
