Venerable Flatlanders Still Have The Chops

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AUSTIN — My oldest daughter, Kasey, is visiting friends in Austin, having escaped the humid climes of the Florida coast for a few days in the dry heat of Central Texas. I took off work early last Friday to make the five-hour voyage to A-Town. I once made this trek nearly every weekend, heading back to East Texas after the workweek ended. I still head here for one reason or another at least a half-dozen times a year.

I have sworn off I-35, permanently and irrevocably. The last three times I took that route — Hwy. 31 to Waco, then I-35 to Austin — a wreck turned the interstate into a long, narrow parking lot. Twice I had to double back and detour along country roads back to Taylor, extending the trip to more than six hours. When I-35 is clear, and I haven’t consumed too much iced tea, I can make the trip in four-and-a-half hours. But I-35 is rarely clear anymore, at least when I am traveling it. Which from now on is never, if I have a choice.

Thus I meander down Hwy. 79, through East Texas’ rolling hills and forest groves until the land flattens out, and the soil morphs from red clay to black waxy. Fields of maize and milo hug the highway’s shoulder, and small towns are dominated by grain elevators in places like Thorndale and Thrall. The road is two-lane nearly all the way, which means one is often stuck behind a farmer pulling a cattle trailer, or someone hauling oilfield equipment. I have learned to bide my time, enjoy music and admire the familiar scenery, noting which little town has a new convenience store or restaurant. I will get to my destination eventually.

Kasey and I meet at Fuzzy’s Tacos on the Drag. This is one of our favorite fastish food joints. It is close to campus and our destination tonight: Hogg Auditorium, where the Flatlanders have reunited for a rare concert. I have secured tickets at the last minute thanks to an email from KUT-FM, the Austin NPR station to which I send a modest contribution each month. Tickets were being offered to members at a discount for a fundraiser for the Cactus Café. I snapped up a pair after texting Kasey to make sure she was game. She was, and we went.

The Flatlanders consist of three guys from Lubbock who started playing together in high school and formed the band in 1972 — 44 years ago. They have played together off-and-on since, parting to go their solo ways for years at a time. Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock have all had successful solo careers. I have seen all three of them at solo concerts over the decades. But this is the first time to see the Flatlanders, because it is such a rare event Since they range in age from 69 to 71, I figured it might be wise to jump at this opportunity.

The trio is now white-headed: Jimmie Dale’s shoulder-length hair gleamed in the stage lights, Joe Ely’s ducktail is still thick but no longer brown, and gray hair poked out from Hancock’s golf cap. The crowd was largely of the same vintage, though some wise youngsters also decided to make a night of it. The Flatlanders have lost none of their musical chops, either instrumentally or vocally. They ripped through many of their classics: Jimmie Dale’s “Dallas,” Butch Hancock’s “Bluebird” and a crowd favorite: “Borderless Love.”

Borderless love, the land of the free
Borderless love, how far can you see?
Borderless love, there’s no border at all
In a borderless love there’s no need for a wall

That drew loud cheers. This is Austin, after all.

The Flatlanders harmonize flawlessly, old friends who no doubt can finish each other’s sentences — and guitar riffs. Backed up by Rich Brotherton, a spectacular guitarist who produces Robert Earl Keen’s discs, it was as if the trio had never parted. As Jimmie Dale put it, “We have been friends for 100 years.” It showed.

The last time I recall being in Hogg Auditorium, a comfortable if venerable venue, was for a Dizzy Gillespie concert in the early 1980s. It was well worth the return visit, and walking back to the parking garage was even pleasant, under a waning gibbous moon.

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