J. S. FOOTE

 

40 Dogs (Like Romeo and Juliet), Bob Schneider. From the first day I started writing this novel, I had in my mind that I needed to incorporate Bob Schneider into it in some way. Bob is one of the perennial Austin acts that you can’t believe hasn’t relocated yet—he’s that good. By now, anyone else with his talent would have moved to Nashville or L.A. But he has stayed, playing the Saxon Pub most Monday nights and unearthing his next album. 40 Dogs (Like Romeo and Juliet) is one of my favorite songs from too many to choose from, and its lyric, “There’s something right about you and me,” I think sums up Lilly and Curtis’s relationship perfectly.

 

L.A. Freeway, Jerry Jeff Walker. I imagine Bob listening to this song as he and Rebecca pull onto Route 60, leaving L.A. in the rear view window as they head to Austin. “If I could just get off of that L.A. Freeway without getting killed or caught…down that road, toward some land that I ain’t bought.” And yes, I know Guy Clark wrote it—yet another reason why it’s on the list.

 

Long Ride Home, Patty Griffin. This song conjures up for me Henry’s heartache of losing Annie. Of burying her, and then, too burdened by his own melancholy, failing to move on with his life.

 

Not Forgotten You, Kelly Willis. One of my favorite Kelly Willis songs and written by another Austin favorite, her husband Bruce Robison, this song captures, with Robison’s trademark honesty, what it’s like to live as an abandoned lover, unable to forget and allow yourself to find someone else.

 

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights, Freddy Fender. Is it the dedication to the Doug Sahm at the beginning or the fact that this recording still sounds like it’s housed on vinyl? Either way, it had to be included and represents to me the ennui Curtis continually feels in participating in all of his pointless relationships.

 

Who Were You Thinkin’ Of, The Texas Tornados. What song better captures the perfidious nature of Curtis and Robin’s relationship? Freddy Fender, supra, and the Texas Tornados remind me of old Austin, before it became trendy. A sweet combination of the wacky and soulful, with a touch of Flaco Jimenez on accordion to make it authentic.

 

Ramble On, Led Zeppelin. Because Ramble On is unapologetic about the fact that in some relationships, after a while, you just have to walk away.

 

Fence, Chip Robinson. I met Chip while I was living in 78704. He was looking for odd jobs, and I needed some help clearing brush. He said he was a musician, and out of curiosity I looked up his album. Fell in love with “Fence” on the first listen. The honesty of his voice is captivating. Take a listen…it’s a special find.

 

Beaumont, Hayes Carll. I must have listened to an acoustic version of this song probably a hundred times trying to capture the right tone for the scene in The Continental Club where Curtis and Lilly had their first kiss. One of Texas’ best young songwriters, Hayes, like Townes Van Zandt, has a rusty, garbled singing voice that juxtaposes sweetly against the delicate images of his songs.

 

Love Struck Baby, Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble. Because Antone’s never should have moved off Guadalupe and Stevie never should have died. I think of Curtis walking up the steps to Lilly’s house whenever I hear this song.

 

King of all the World, Old 97’s. Okay, for a quick second we’ll try to forget that the Old 97’s are from Dallas. For my purposes, they play enough in Austin to be included on this list (hereinafter to be referred to as the “Old 97’s Exception”). This song captures what it’s like when you fall in love…with all pistons firing, feeling like—if just for a second—that you are the “king of all of the world.”

 

Crazy, Shawn Colvin. Lilly’s greatest moments are when she cedes control of her emotions, just like the lyric in this song suggests – “I remember when, I remember I lost my mind. There was something so pleasant about that place.”

 

Funny How Time Slips Away, Willie Nelson. Was I really going to leave off Willie? “How I’m doing? Oh, well, I guess I’m doin’ fine.” This song encapsulates the resignation and loneliness Bob now lives with at having lost Rebecca.

 

Kind of Perfect, Kacy Crowley. I love the irony of this song—that in the struggle of holding their relationship together, two lovers realize they have found their “perfect” soul mate. For me, the song subtlety captures the messiness inherent in all relationships, which is one of the themes of the novel: you can’t expect perfection in someone.

 

Honeypot, Bob Schneider. Because the backbeat in this song hints at the idea that sometimes settling down just means you’ve found your groove.

 

L.A. County, Lyle Lovett. The first time I saw Lyle Lovett was his first nationally televised appearance on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. For me, it was like Ed Sullivan introducing the Beatles—I just couldn’t believe music could sound that intelligent and soulful at the same time. And although from Houston, he plays enough at the Paramount to get a shout out (see supra, the Old 97’s Exception) and a thank you for over twenty years of great music.

 

A State of Texas, Old 97’s. “When the sun goes down on Austin-town, that’s when I’ll know I’m home.” Mainly I wrote this novel because I wanted everyone to know how great Austin is. We have enough novels on New York…on Paris….but not nearly enough on Austin. That being said, please don’t move here. We’re not looking to become L.A.