Let's Go Back to Luckenbach, Texas, Again
Jerry Jeff Walker has his own holiday blowout, LaborFest, the following day at Luckenbach, where the crowd should be a little smaller but proably no less loud. In addition to Walker, expect a lineup not all that different from last year's: Joe Ely, Jack Ingram, Todd Snider, Kelly Willis and Bruce Robison.

Horse Talk
The aforementioned Joe Ely was asked to write a song for the movie The Horse Whisperer, directed by Robert Redford (and for which the aforementioned LeAnn Rimes turned down a part). Next thing you know, Joe's writing with Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock, which marks the first time the three have done that since 1972, when they had the short-lived Lubbock group the Flatlanders (who are most famous for having made an album that was relased only on eight-track tape). They cowrote three keepers; though there's no word yet on how many, if any, will actually make the movie, all three are bound to wind up on CDs before too long (maybe each man could take one finished track for his own next album). Redford's movie looks to have a lot of west Texas flavor; Don Walser will also be on the soundtrack, singing Hoyle Nix's western swinger "Big Ball in Cowtown."

Ornette Coleman & Joachim Kuhn: Colors (Harmolodic/Verve)
Normally, classically-trained European types like pianist Kuhn bring out the worst in Ornette, rendering the Fort Worth native cautious and wooden. But this set, recorded live in Leipzig, offers a surprise a minute, and most of 'em are good ones. Unexpectedly, Kuhn, like Ornette, is at his best when he's at his quirkiest. Together, they can also be spare, ruminative, expansive, impulsive and even, occasionally, about as over-the-top as you can get with just a piano and a horn.

Rockabilly Uprising: The Best of Mac Curtis (Rollin' Rock/HMG)
This Fort Worth native was a regional rockabilly star who also enjoyed a few country hits in the late '60s and early '70s. He recorded this first-time reissue later in the latter decade, aided mainly by fellow Texas rockabilly exile Ray Campi (but also by Billy Zoom of X). Partly because he was cutting for cultists, Curtis too often played to rockabilly's cheap seats--many of these tracks are all mannerism, all styled hics and pants. He winds up a caricature. Though when he wanted to, as on "I'd Run a Mile to You," he really could sing.

The Groobees: Wayside
This Amarillo outfit offers ernest, but generic, country-folk. There's little out of the ordinary beyond the insinuating lead vocals of Susan Gibson (who's also a promising songwriter), and the typically clean production of Lloyd Maines.

Ray Wylie Hubbard: Dangerous Spirits (Philo)
Though probably still not enough to break him out of the singer-songwriter niche, this is by far Hubbard's most provocative effort. Indeed, it's one of the big surprises of the year. He's purged every hint of mellowness from his vocals and all the rowdiness too; instead, he sounds yearning, haunted and unsettled. He also rocks more convincingly than ever without sacrificing melody. And perhaps most telling of all, his most ambitious songs (like the title tune) are also his strongest. Though very much in that singer-songwriter "poetic" vein, his lyrics are clear and unambiguous; they illuminate the thought or sentiment he's expressing, rather than making it opaque or obscure, as wordy singer-songwriters often inadvertently do. Hubbard may have a truly great album in him soon.

Oscar G.: De Nuevo (Hacienda)
Here's a perfect example of what Tejano indies have been left with since the major labels moved into the field. This Eagle Pass native (who had his own brief fling with a major a few years back) is a perfetly competent singer with a good, but unexceptional, voice. His material (all rancheras and cumbias) is straightforward, and exhibits by-the-book arrangements. It's all so smack in the mainstream, though, that it's hard to hear the Oscar G. in it--just a steady, consistent everyguy who will probably always be found around the middle of the charts.

Sister 7: This the Trip (Arista/Austin)
There's much to like about this Austin band. Patrice Pike can be an engaging, stylish singer, and the group mixes funk and hip-hop with rock more adeptly than most who try. But funk line gives way to arena-rock riff gives way to funk line gives way to arena-rock riff with such monotonous predictability that it doesn't take long to grow ho-hum; good funk sounds spontaneous even when it isn't. They could use a good soloist, even if it meant adding another musician (and a few more songs that are as powerful as the ensemble sound of this promising quartet).

Red Steagall and the Boys in the Bunkhouse: Dear Mama, I'm a Cowboy (Warner Western)
The title song puts a weird, and compelling, spin on the dying cowboy theme (and works to dispel some cowboy mythology as well). Unfortunately, it's about the only thing here that suggests there's anything unique about Steagall. He's definitely a likable enough western singer, but he lacks the inspired twist, or the truly extraordinary talent, that might make him attractive to those who aren't already fans of cowboy music. Those people, on the other hand, should find this as satisfying as anything he's done.

You can email me atjmorth@flash.net. Send promo records and press releases to me at 1813-B Drake Ave., Austin, TX 78704.