There’s a weightlessness to Charley Crockett’s country soul, a deeply Texan high lonesome made a lot less lonesome by its classic crooner’s warmth and reassurance even in the face of sobering truths. Experience it on today’s Top 2020 drop Welcome to Hard Times, as transportive as the local’s set on Willie Nelson’s virtual picnic early this month.
Austin Chronicle: Where are you sheltering and under what circumstances? Who else is there and how’s that going?
Charley Crockett: I’ve been laid up in South Austin with my lady since March. We’ve disappeared out to the desert and camped in the truck a time or two. I thought about it and realized this is the longest period of time I’ve gone without performing to a live audience since I was about 17.
My life has been built around shows for years.
“Playing on the street, in subway cars, beer joints, blues clubs, and finally the touring circuit, that’s my identity. A lot of my best songs come to me on the highway or in the alley behind a club. 2020 has been like exile.”
Playing on the street, in subway cars, beer joints, blues clubs, and finally the touring circuit, that’s my identity. When I’m in the high mountains writing songs, it’s always been between tours. A lot of my best songs come to me on the highway or in the alley behind some club.
2020 has been like exile. Might to have to part the Red Sea to get out of it.
AC: At what point did C-19 shut down operations for you, and what went down with the ship, so to speak, both personally & professionally?
CC: Our last show was at the Lonesome Rose in San Antonio on March 2 with Garrett T. Capps and Augie Meyers. Texas Public Radio filmed that night. We had a 10-day break after that where I headed up to Colorado and New Mexico to get ready for what would’ve been the heaviest tour schedule of my career so far.
Hell, we had four festival dates with Willie Nelson.
I got asked to play Jazz Fest after one of the organizers saw us at Hi-Ho Lounge on St. Claude in New Orleans in January. The promoter that night reminded me that I came up to him outside the club one night and told him I’d play that festival one day. That was eight years ago!
It’s been hard not to think about where we’d be playing right now if not for these hard times. I remember we were sitting at a diner in Cloudcroft, NM., when they called off SXSW. I knew right then deep down in my belly that this year was going out the tour bus window.
You can’t stop what’s comin’ though and I’ve made a career out of the most unlikely circumstances. I can take this and whatever’s behind it.
“I remember we were sitting at a diner in Cloudcroft, NM., when they called off SXSW. I knew right then deep down in my belly that this year was going out the tour bus window.”
AC: As a global culture, people employ music for every purpose imaginable, obviously spanning religion to entertainment and everything in between. What happens to communities like ours when people can no longer access it in person?
CC: Somebody smarter than me said that art is the only way to truly understand our history as a people. I live in Austin for the music. I could live in any music town if I wanted. New Orleans, Nashville, Memphis, anywhere. But I choose this town because time and again I find what I need to satisfy my soul any night I go out looking for it.
I’ve heard artists say that music is the most immediate art form. See, what we do onstage is only half of the deal. The rest of it’s the energy of the folks listening, dancing, and carrying on. That’s why it’s not as rewarding to play for cameras in an empty room.
Austin is the live music capital of the world. I can guarantee that. You can also bet your bottom dollar we’re hurting for this pandemic, if you’ve got one left to wager.
AC: Everyone’s had to shift or drastically alter their work situation. What does that look like for you?
CC: Well, I was an alcohol salesman more or less before. Now, I mostly just sell T-shirts.
“Well, I was an alcohol salesman more or less before. Now, I mostly just sell T-shirts.”
AC: What’s your soundtrack for the apocalypse and what role does music play for you as a fan and scholar of it in times of hardship?
CC: I’m leaning heavily on that tragic Sixties George Jones material. The possum sure knew how to make you feel good about feeling bad for yourself. Bill Withers has been lifting me up a whole lot lately.
Norma Jean’s recording of “I’m A Walking Advertisement for the Blues.” Short-haired Willie Nelson all day, Ray Charles all night.
Loretta Lynn always.
Big Bill Broonzy to call it what it is. The young west coast rapper “Buddy.” Lightnin’ Hopkins seemed to sing exclusively about the apocalypse!
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