COUNTRY MUSIC. CHOIRS OF COWBOYS

WILLIE NELSON recently became only the second Texan to receive the
prestigious Kennedy Centre Arts Award for his contribution to American
music. About time too, some would say.

If country music has been saved from commercial Nashville's oily quiffs and
bubblegum lyrics, it is thanks to a single-handed rescue operation by this
great man. The Lonestar state has always boasted a rich musical talent, but
it took the coming of Mr Nelson and his fellow cosmic cowboys, Waylon
Jennings and Kris Kristofferson, to catapult the sleepy state
capital--Austin--into the spotlight. The city still doesn't quite live up
it to its own brazen billing as "Live Music Capital Of The World", but it
has become perhaps the most vital centre of the great American musical
experiment. The Armadillo World Headquarters made its acquaintance with
Willy Nelson one fateful August night in 1972. The Armadillo, a National
Guard armoury converted into a dance hall, quickly became an unlikely
magnet for musical geniuses. Sweat-soaked nights here were characterised by
the breaking down of traditional musical genres. Rednecks fell for Frank
Zappa while hippy intellectuals at the University of Texas became disciples
of Mr Nelson.

Austin has changed a lot since then. The hippies have share options. The
city has doubled in size and become a high-tech leader. Its music scene has
diversified, encompassing punk, grunge and funk. But its laid-back slacker
lifestyle and love for rootsy, heartfelt music remains infectious. When
your correspondent moved here, he wore ties and was a musical inept. Now
departing for colder and darker climes, he has dispensed with the ties and
haunts used-record stores and late-night shows.

Music lovers across the United States have had a weekly dose of the city's
music scene since "Austin City Limits" began broadcasting in 1976,
consistently one of the most popular shows on public television. It has a
simple formula: top-notch musicians, stripped-down acoustic sets, and a
discerning live audience.

Austin radio stations--notably 107.1 KGSR , which readers can tune into on
the Internet at www.austin360.com/kgs--provide a hometown voice for local
talent. "We were founded to play music that didn't quite fit in elsewhere,"
says Jody Denberg, a KGSR deejay. There are no hard rules--provide a
hometown voice for local talent. "We were founded to play music that didn't
quite fit in elsewhere," says Jody Denberg, a KGSR deejay. There are no
hard rules; unlike Seattle sound which is essentially grunge, there is no
distinct Austin sound. Perhaps the best description is Yalternative (as in
"y'all"); anti-establishment music which seeks out the fertile ground
between rock, blues, folk and country.

Austin is flooded with live music. On any given night there are more than
100 bands playing. Most will not make any money. No matter. Musicians head
to New York, Nashville and Los Angeles to be famous, they come to Austin
for the love of playing. The centre of the live music scene is Sixth
Street, arguably the densest concentration of live music anywhere in
America. The 40 or so clubs and bars there echo with blues, jazz, punk,
country and techno. On weekends music spills out on to the hot, crowded
streets and pools into an indistinguishable throb. Locals are spoiled for
choice. They can pay a few dollars to listen to, say, Flaco Jimenez, a
frenetic and brilliant San Antonio accordionist, or slip next door to catch
Mitch Watkins, a hometown guitar legend, or mooch even further down Sixth
Street to catch a promising young funk band.

Some will retreat to mellower hideaways. Among these are the Broken Spoke
and the Continental Club. The Broken Spoke has hosted almost every single
luminary of country music and features a sawdust dance floor over which
Texans of all ages swirl. Regulars here include The Derailers, an upbeat
country band guaranteed to crack a grin on the dourest face, and Don
Walser, an icon of country yodelling (yes, yodelling). The Continental Club
is a darker, smarter haunt favoured by hipsters. Regulars here include
America's leading house rocker, Junior Brown, who is recognisable for his
ten-gallon hat and spiffy retro Fifties shirts, and yet another epic
hometown guitarist, Jimmie Ray Vaughn.

The richest vein of Lonestar music, however, remains that of the lyrical
singer-songwriter. The best was the late Townes Van Zandt whose songs have
been extensively covered, most famously "Poncho and Lefty" and "If I Needed
You". Lyle Lovett and Robert Earl Keen--one-time college roommates at Texas
A&M University--are his heirs today. Mr Lovett's crystalline new double
album, "Inside This House", is a compelling tribute to great Texas
songwriters. Robert Earl Keen's new album, "Walking Distance", includes a
song--"It Feels Good, Feelin' Good Again"--which should convert most
readers instantly to the Lonestar musical cause. Among the up and coming
singer-songwriters are Bruce Robison and his brother Charlie. The narrative
drive of their lyrics and the raw heft of their voices will reach an
audience far beyond the smalltown Texas they write about.

Nor is singer-songwriting just restricted to men. Austin boasts a treasure
trove of talented women singer-songwriters. Patty Griffin's second album,
"Flaming Red", makes for cascading, occasionally thrashing poetry of the
highest order. Abra Moore, a longtime Austinite who served her
apprenticeship in hometown bars, is now achieving deserved national success
with her album, "Strangest Places". And then there is Shawn Colvin whose
1996 album, "A Few Small Repairs", won a Grammy award and established her
as one of the foremost women singers of any genre in the United States.

At 65, Willie Nelson is still the king. He still churns out achingly good
songs which he claims to drag whole from the ether. Where most country
songs have three chords, Mr Nelson's often have four or five. Mainstream
Nashville songs still stick to familiar and largely conservative formulas,
Mr Nelson's swerve headlong into the zeitgeist. His discography now
includes over 200 albums, with more to come. He still weaves tirelessly
across America aboard his legendary "Honeysuckle Rose" bus. And he still
proclaims the virtues of hemp products at every opportunity. This is, after
all, a man who celebrated his release from a Bahamian prison on a
pot-smoking charge by lighting up a mighty "Austin torpedo" the very next
night on the roof of Jimmy Carter's White House.