Texas Flood: The Inside Story of Stevie Ray Vaughan
Written and Narrated By: Alan Paul, Andy Aledort / Epilogue: Jimmie Vaughan
Length: 11 hrs and 39 mins
Memories of a WonderMan… and some pretty goshdanged Ugly Sobs as well
Here’s the thing: I first got to Austin in 1984, and when friends from West Texas came to visit? I wanted to go to Antone’s… even tho’ I was sporting a wooly Mohawk and F*** Or Fight studded boots. Dude! it was ANTONE’S for freak’s sake, and even I knew that’s where I wanted to go. But, alas, m’ roommate and her sister and friends made the blanket decision to hit Angle’s for freak’s sake… a dance club. Booooo!!!
So it wasn’t until 1988, and my very best best bestie moved to Austin that I got the chance to immerse myself in the music of SRV… Stevie Ray, oh Stevie Ray Vaughan!!! Coming back from a day spent at the lake, taking waaay toooo many chances careening around corners of 2222 in her little Honda, and yessss! listening to SRV and “Change It”… listening to it now, and crying… for Stevie Ray, for a friend who moved away, for a way of life that no longer exists in Austin, Texas. Austin: Where once upon a time, Homeless were just Musicians Whose Girlfriends Kicked Them Out… but now Homelessness is illegal… Go figure… and Boooo!!
-BUT-
Texas Flood brought soooo many good good AWESOME things back to my mind and heart and soul! I kinda sorta didn’t care too much for the fact that this is the True Telling/Relaying of SRV’s life through back-to-back quotes (Felt like some weird documentary of blurbs) from the people who knew him best. It starts mostly with big brother Jimmie’s memories of a life where the bonded pair o’ bros picked up used guitars around the same yooooung age and then Went. To. TOWN!
And this story spares no details, it gets down and dirty, it pretties nothing up. The Stevie we’re presented with was always a bit of a scalawag, always looking for a sofa to crash on, not being the moooost reliable person in the world. In need of a buck or two, making practice wait cuz he’s been napping, has to take his girlfriend to work, just SOMEthing. Never apologetic, but always, as EVERYONE interviewed here says: “The guy was Sweet; just the Sweetest guy you’d ever wanna meet.” This, from MEN… and when on gosh’s green earth have you known a dude to use the word: Sweet?!
There’s plenty of the techniques SRV developed, his style, his passion. That he went onstage, or sat in practice, or played in the recording studio like he Was Here Now, in the moment, giving every note, every chord, his heart, his everything.
There’s plenty of the drugs he used, of the alcohol he consumed, of the crazy-assed wenches he dated seriously. Of his demons, of trying to shake them.
Of shaking them. Of the final four most GLORIOUS years that were ever lived. Of finally pairing up with his brother Jimmie for “Family Style”… The Vaughan Brothers united, sitting in the recording studio with all new musicians as the band, of how these guys watched in awe as two brothers sat, playing electric licks, both tapping heels in time, in absolute unison, as tho’ from the same leg. The Same Person.
Of a single helicopter flight back… that never made it.
Of Jimmie saying, KNOWING, yeh, the world lost a One Of A Kind Musician… but him? He lost A Brother, and what can life mean after that?
I remember crying a bit, just a bit when news broke that Stevie had been killed. I’d joined in a few vigils, I’ve since left flowers at the base of the bronze statue by the Lake. But at no time, NEVER have I cried so much as I did here, at the end of Texas Flood, as a family of musicians came together to say Goodbye to one of their own, one of the “sweetest” guys they’d ever known. As Dr. John took over duties at the organ, knowing that Stevie’s feet were near him, never to live again, tap time to music. Of how he, and so many other musicians and family members lost control in their grief, broke down. Or how some of them just COULDN’T get to his Funeral, still in shock as Life as they knew it had ended, changing the courses of their lives irrevocably.
I shan’t really address the narration cuz, as I said, it’s snippets here, snippets there. I can only say that, oh man! did the grief really come forth at the end there, for those oh so very bad days. Lump in m’ throat? No, flat-out crying, a sore throat, ugly sobs.
Maybe it’s just that Stevie Ray Vaughan ain’t on the radio here in Austin any longer. Maybe it’s just that his statue is rarely adorned with the wildflowers that grow by the Lake. Maybe it’s that clubs have moved, musicians of those rockin’ Blues have gone on to greener pastures, more appreciative audiences. Where’s our Austin Icon?!
No longer here, but SRV? Sir? Some of us have spectacular memories, now tucked safely into tender hearts, and we’ll take you On The Road.
Wherever we go.
Whatever we do.
Whenever we want to remember Living… at many many miles per hour, best friends now close again. Life goes on. Your memory does as well…
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