My buddy Bubba has memories of Austin’s legendary Butthole Surfers front man, Gibby Haynes, and the stories are all mostly true. That’s a point of connection. Previous, there was odd memories of Austin’s The Big Boys, digging a little deeper, a song, “Gomes Pyle is God.”
I can recall the Go-Gos from when they were big, and on the radio, back when radio was a thing.
While this book’s title flashed through the late corona media feeds, I didn’t pick it up until recently.
Started slowly, but within a few pages, I was hooked, but then, although not a writer, the author has many years in music, and that poetical lure of a story-telling, alluring textual prose that harmonizes. Did with me, anyway.
One word: Lubbock.
Apparently, like so many before, her father escaped Lubbock, but she returned, as a child, and found some of the magic.
No, seriously, there’s a kind of magic in the flat lands, skies, and llano estacado.
“All the books I had read paid off—being well read is always an educational ace in the hole. It makes you think better, write better, figure stuff out better.” Page 52.
As I recall, the Blasters were the first wave of Cow Punk.
“Crossing all lines, welcome on any bill at any club, were the Blasters, the OG Americana band.” Page 94.
As both a respected musician, and best-selling memoir author? Credit for the term, “OG Americana…”
It covers her creative process, other behaviors, too, but I like the creative process at work. I don’t write songs, but the flow feels ever so familiar.
You know what really feels familiar? Some line, early on, about her favorite drug was alcohol, propped up by cocaine. Yeah, and I’m thinking here…
Salvation, there is always salvation. One of the best rock’n’roll memories.