|
Surprising
LDS Echoes and Overtones:
Old
Time Music in Hi Tech Austin
by
Ron Simpson
We’re having an early dinner at Guero’s in Austin and Kim
is talking about Don Walser, one of the reigning kings of Texas
swing.
“The great thing about Walser,” he continues, “is he’s this
authentic, old-school Texas cowboy singer/songwriter/yodeler,
and one of the very few who’s been lucky enough–while he’s
still alive–to have found a young, contemporary audience that
totally appreciates him for what he is.”
And then all of a sudden our son Kim holds out his hands for
quiet, and sure enough, we can barely hear the radio on the
PA system over the noise in the place. The radio is tuned to
NPR, “All Things Considered.” Kim mouths the words, “Richard
Dutcher” and sure enough, reporter Howard Berkes, presenting
a piece on the surprising rise in popularity of Mormon cinema,
is in the middle of interviewing Richard Dutcher, talking about
the critical acclaim yet weaker-than-expected box office of “Brigham
City.” Provo movies on the radio in Austin? Unbelievable.
Soon the out-of-synch moment is gone, and we’re back into
our black beans and salsa verde and talking again
about Don Walser. His song, “I’m a Rollin’ Stone from Texas,” has
a featured spot in the heartwarming film, Secondhand Lions,
and this is only one of several recent national triumphs in
the career of the deserving and aging Austin cowboy.
Workin’ on
the railroad, sleepin’ on the ground,
Eatin’ Saltine
crackers, ten cents a pound.
Traditional cowboy singers like Don Walser are custodians
of a Spartan old-west ethic and value system long gone yet
much revered in present-day Austin, where a decidedly corporate,
big- bucks image has taken over. But on Friday night Austin
goes into collective denial and heads back into its beloved
past, lining up for dinner at Hill’s Café or Threadgill’s–or
better yet, for Texas barbecue and western swing dancing at
The Broken Spoke.
I’m
a Texas top hand, and I’m the number-one man
When
it comes to the matters of an old cowhand.
I
can ride ‘em, I can break ‘em and on Friday I’ll be makin’
My
way into town to dance to some old cowboy band.
“Don was always a regular at the best Austin spots like Threadgill’s
or Jovita’s,” continues Kim Simpson. So every weekend he’d
be at one of those top places. They totally loved him at The
Broken Spoke.”
“And you won’t believe this,” Kim continues, “But Don Walser
has ties to the Mormon Church. You know, he’s not in very good
health right now. His daughter and granddaughter are sort of
his main care-givers, and I go to church with them in South
Austin–Parkwood Ward.” A surprise indeed, and we get up to
leave Guero’s, hoping Don Walser will recover and find a second
wind.
I’m
a Texas top hand and I’ll bet my bottom dollar, Ma’am,
I’ll
wind up in the money at this year’s rodeo.
Well, winding up in the money isn’t exactly like it used to
be. Showtime in Austin is high tech stuff. Like Dell Computers.
We are reminded by our grandson Quinn that the Winter Festival
is on at his pre-school Saturday morning. We attend, and meet
Carol, the director of the University of Texas pre-school.
She holds a BYU master’s degree. We compliment her for the
new Playscape equipment in the yard. “Yes,” she smiles. “Michael
and Susan Dell [Dell Computers] had a child here for awhile,
and they gave us a million dollars which funded our Playscape,
among other things. It’s made a huge difference.”
There’s
nothin’ quite like the smell of fresh ploughed ground
On
the family farm with your kids all around.
The
good lord gave this country boy a place to run and play
And
work this ol’ John Deere every day.
So as the high-tech stakes grow ever higher, maybe it’s no
wonder that the high-touch, high-smell, family-values life
of the old-west Texas plains is so revered today in the music
of singers like Don Walser. Seems like Austin today is all
about style, attitude. While we’re chasin’ our millions, let’s
be loose, be cool. “Keep Austin Weird,” says the local bumper
sticker, co-sponsored by the record store where Don Walser
is featured.
Another
Great Story
There’s another great story in the Austin tapestry of today
that weaves in threads of music, Mormons, BYU, Dell Computers
and Austin, which rhymes with Boston, as you’ll see. It’s the
story of Kevin Rollins, who grew up in Utah.
I
ain’t got a cent in these old worn out jeans
Gotta
stop eatin’ steak and go back to beans
Kevin and his brother Craig were part of a band from Orem
called The Gents. Unbelievably, The Gents won the national
battle of the bands in 1968 when Kevin was just 14 years old.
In those days one of my companies was The Sound Column Agency.
We loved The Gents and admired the way Kevin Rollins got a
very usable sound with just a cheap, student-line guitar. (Very
much a Texas thing to do.)
After a mission and graduation from BYU, Rollins paid some
dues, working for a time as a business consultant in Boston,
where his reputation grew and an assignment eventually made
him a consultant to Dell Computers. Dell was impressed, and
brought him aboard.
Today, as Clyde Weeks writes in the weekly Orem-Geneva
Times, “Rollins is president and chief operating officer
of Dell Computers. He is a polished management professional,
who doubles as a fun-loving fiddle player, and sings wisecracking
lyrics about rival companies at [Dell Computer] gatherings
in Round Rock, Texas.” (Round Rock is a North Austin Suburb.)
I’ll
pick up a ten spot in Houston I know
Ridin’ a
bronc in the big rodeo
Kevin Rollins has been good for Texas. He is credited with
steering Dell through the recent hi-tech pullback and landing
it back on its feet. And so Kevin Rollins, with his Boston
business savvy and his easy Texas style and natural affinity
for Austin’s music tradition, has ridden the hi-tech bull for
prize money. He and his wife Debra were credited in 1999 with
giving the multi-million-dollar centerpiece gift to create
The Kevin and Debra Rollins Theater in the Long Center, a several-venue
arts complex in the Austin suburb where they live. Mighty fine
ridin’, Cowboy.
The
sky is crying
It’s raining and uncharacteristically cold during our few
days in Austin. I thump on some upright basses for sale, find
some unfindable prize vinyl in the used record shops, and think
about another Austin legend, the late blues guitarist Stevie
Ray Vaughn, who died young in a tragic helicopter wreck. We
walk along the river toward the statue of Stevie Ray in his
raincoat and flat leather hat and remark what a fitting day
it is to see it: just a bunch of crows and gackles, one rainy-day
jogger, and us. We remember Stevie Ray singing, “The sky is
crying...”
Write
one for your mom...
What
Will It Take?
Heading for the airport to fly home, I’m still amazed that
I’ve heard NPR talking about Mormon movies in Austin of all
places, and I’m wondering what will it take to create a generation–a
catalog–of great Mormon movies.
Just a couple of months before I flew to Hollywood to attend
the Billboard Film Music Conference. With Clint Eastwood as
the keynote speaker, and a who’s who list of film-composer
presenters, the heartwarming surprise favorite of that jaded
audience turned out to be Austin’s Robert Rodriquez, creator
of the Spy Kids movies. A filmmaker with that old-west
cowboy ethic, Rodriquez is a young director known for creating
his own music as he builds a film.
Wearing his Austin uniform, including a wrinkled denim shirt,
well-worn boots and a years-old cowboy hat, Rodriquez presented
examples of his film and film music work and then closed by
urging the aspiring film composers in the room to write what
they know. “Go home and start tonight,” he said. “Write a theme
for you, for your father, one for your mother, themes for each
of your kids, for your dog.
“My mom,” he continued, and then unexpectedly, Rodriguez choked
up. “My mom,” he started again, softly, “shops at supermarkets.
She raised ten kids. She loves Gershwin. MGM golden age musicals.
Sure, I could call Danny [Elfman] or ten other guys and say
write something for this character,” he went on. “But I’m the
one who knows this person. I’m the one who can nail
it.”
Who will be the Robert Rodriguez of Mormon film?
I’m
a rolling stone from Texas
Rolling
stone from the plains
I’m
a rolling stone from Texas, boys
I
long to be back there again
The late fiddler Kenner Kartchner worked the Arizona frontier.
Late in life, after bluegrass and western fiddling again had
started to become hip, he placed in the top ten several different
years in the Weiser, Idaho fiddling contest. He came from Mormon
pioneer lines and would be an extended-family cousin of mine.
He told how itinerant Texas cowhands would drift across the
borders into New Mexico or as far west as Arizona, bringing
with them the latest Texas tunes and the latest dance styles,
shared around campfires or at impromptu country dances. “That’s
how I would keep up to date,” he’d say, acknowledging the Texas
trademark in a lot of the music he played.
That was just after the turn of the last century. Can’t see
as its much different today.
_____________________________________________________
“All
Things Considered,” NPR, January 15, 2004, Melissa Block,
Michele Norris co-hosts
Don
Walser lyrics excerpted from “Dare to Dream: The Best of
Don Walser”
Kim Simpson, a PhD candidate in American Studies at the University
of Texas, Austin, is a specialist in contemporary music history,
including the Austin music scene
Kenner Kartchner material from Frontier Fiddler: The Life of a Northern Arizona Pioneer, by
Larry Shumway (1990: University of Arizona Press) and interviews
with the author
Clyde Weeks’ quote on Kevin Rollins from historical cover
story, “Orem band The
Gents Win National Battle of the Bands, Part I” Orem-Geneva
Times, 10-2-03 cover story.
Click
here to sign up for Meridian's FREE email updates.
© 2004 Meridian
Magazine. All Rights Reserved.
|
