1. CD review fromthe Boston Herald
2. CDreview from Freight Train Boogie
3. Blaze Foley: Man ofTruth from the Austin American-Statesman
4. Blaze Foleyfrom 3rd Coast Music
5. AWalking Contradiction from the Austin Chronicle
6. BlazeFoley Reviewed in the Austin Chronicle
7. BlazeFoley Review in Texas Monthly
8. AReview in Dutch from ALT COUNTRY NL

4 stars (out of four)

If you've ever pondered the identityof Lucinda Williams' "Drunken Angel," wondered who made even Townes VanZandt feel blue, or what songwriter Merle Haggard would turn to in a momentof spiritual crisis, the answer is simple: Blaze Foley - all of the above.

Foley, a disparate voice even in theiconoclastic circles of Austin, wasn't much known outside of the handfulof artists who remember him in their songs and deeds. But before his murderin 1989 at 39, Foley was embraced in Austin for a heart as large as hisframe, a soul as deep as his voice and for a self-fulfilling poverty thatled him to be remembered as much for his duct-taped shoes as his songs.It's no surprise that Foley died in another losing battle: gunned downwhile trying to protect an elderly friend's government pension checks.

Thanks to Lost Arts Records' new release,"Live at the Austin Outhouse," the world can now hear the gift of thissongwriter's soul. The first published recordings of Blaze Foley, tapedjust four weeks before his death, it captures the simplicity and honestyand of Foley's artistry. From the achingly simple "If I Could Fly" (whichHaggard performed for Tammy Wynette's memorial service), to the hauntingloneliness of "Picture Cards Can't Picture You," the 12 cuts on this CDcapture the forsaken beauty of Foley's music - warts and all - as Foleywould only want it.

Performed with a "borrowed guitar"and recorded before an audience so sparse one can hear every aside, here'sthanking Lost Art Records for finally allowing that audience to swell.

To hear a track from the album, call InsideLine at 416-5700 and enter category 1740.

"Some kind of savior singin'the blues
A derelict in your duct tape shoes
your orphan clothes and your longdark hair
Lookin' like you didn't care
Drunken angel"
-- "Drunken Angel,"
by Lucinda Williams

There was duct tape on Blaze Foley'scoffin.

It was an appropriate send-off forthe hard-luck singer-songwriter (who sometimes patched his broken-downshoes with duct tape) who embodied Kris Kristofferson's portrait of themodern troubadour: "He's a walking contradiction/Partly truth and partlyfiction/Taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home."

Homeless by choice, implacably devotedto his craft, Foley had demons inside him that came out when he drank --and he drank heavily toward the end of his life. He slept where he fell,crashing on friends' couches or under beer-joint pool tables. And sometimesthe accommodations were even worse. Foley used to joke that the ubiquitousblue BFI dumpsters around town stood for "Blaze Foley Inside."

Ten years after his untimely and violentdeath in a domestic dispute at age 39, Foley's voice is being heard againon record, thanks to the efforts of old friends and fans who never sawhim play live.

The CD release of "Live at the AustinOuthouse" follows on the heels of two posthumous tribute albums (a thirdis in the works) that chronicle the respect and affection that Foley andhis music engendered among his songwriting peers. Merle Haggard calledFoley's signature tune, "If I Could Only Fly," "the best country song I'veheard in 15 years."

Tom Tobin picked up a copy of theoriginal 1989 cassette release of "Live at the Austin Outhouse" years afterFoley's murder and became enamored of a singer he had never met. Togetherwith a partner, Craig McDonald, Tobin formed an independent record label,Lost Art Records, primarily to re-release the "Outhouse" sessions on CD.They went to musician/engineer Lost John Casner, who had produced the originalrecording on Dec. 27-28, 1988, and together they labored to give Foley'slonesome songs a new, digital home.

Two concerts (with proceeds benefitingthe Austin Resource Center for the Homeless in Foley's name) celebratedthe release of the "Live at the Austin Outhouse" last week. Colleaguesand admirers joined together to reprise Foley's blues-tinged repertoireof hard living and small pleasures.

As much as the music, the artistsand fans at the shows savored old memories, tall tales and war stories,all starring an unlikely hero who succeeded on his own terms, if on noone else's. Here's a sample of some of the stories Foley's memory conjureup:
Casey Monahan (director of the TexasMusic Office): "He did everything he could to not be successful . . . hewanted to tic people off because he distrusted authority, completely. Anybodywho ran a folk festival or booked an important club was almost somebodyhe wanted to scratch to see if he could get them to bleed. But if you passedBlaze's test, you were in like Flynn."

Gurf Morlix (producer, and Foley'sbass player from 1977-1981): "He was such a beacon for the truth . . .If you weren't an honest person, Blaze could tell that right away. Andhe had these eyes that could stare right through you."

Mandy Mercier (singer-songwriter,guitarist and fiddler): "We had a romance in 1980; we stayed at the AlamoHotel. I would go to work and Blaze would drive around all day in my carwith Townes (Van Zandt), drinking vodka and taking acid. It was one ofthe great romances of the century!

"He actually made me feel guilty forhaving a job. Even when I was supporting him! He would say to me that ifI was a true artist, I would go sleep at the hobo camp by the railroadtracks behind Spellman's and just play my guitar all day.

"I think that the side of him I sawwas very real and very sensitive and very brilliant. And very vulnerable.He also was a real pain . . . but he didn't have a malevolent bone in hisbody. He was a true champion of the downtrodden."

Casey Monahan: "How he died? I'lltell you what I know about that. There was this old guy, he lived overon, like, Annie Street, and Blaze would crash over there, but he wouldalso take care of the old guy. And the old guy really liked Blaze. Buthis son really hated him. So he came over there one night . . . they gotin an argument and Blaze raised an ax handle that the old man kept forprotection, and the son shot him."

Lost John Casner: "We actually finished(the "Austin Outhouse") project a week before he was killed. It's interestingthat he's been gone for almost 11 years, but his friends refuse to letthe music die. There have been two tribute CDs and they're working on anotherone. These are people that loved Blaze and know that the music's important,so they go and cut songs for free and kind of keep the Blaze thing going."
Mandy Mercier: "It's kind of interestinghow so many years later he's still so mythic.

There was one afternoon when we wereshooting pool at Spellman's, and he got a little table roll and he said,"This pool table's so crooked, it's a wonder I can sleep on it at all."

"He destroyed himself and any chancehe had at a career. But in a way, he chose that. He set standards for himselfand everybody else that were literally impossible to meet. And he literallydied trying."

3rd Coast Music,  December1999  #35/124

Rated:  5 Stars (Essential)

BLAZE FOLEY
Live At The Austin Outhouse

Having rather despaired of seeingan actual Blaze Foley release this (or any other) decade, I gave the firstcover of 1999 to a tribute album, covers of Blaze’s songs by his friends.So it gives me enormous pleasure to close the year with the real thing,particularly as it was my January story that brought John Casner, who recordedit, together with Tom Tobin & Craig McDonald of Lost Art Records. However,as I’ve already said my piece about the great singer-songwriter, I’m givingthis space to Casner to recount some of the background to this album. Johnmentions 115 minutes of tape, so obviously some songs have been sacrificed,but the most important, Clay
Pigeons, If I Could Only Fly, SmallTown Hero, Our Little Town, Picture Cards, Election Day and Faded LovesAnd Memories, are all there. On December 12th & 13th, Mandy Mercierwill lead a Blaze Foley Supergroup at CD releases (see John The Revelator).JC

Blaze Foley and Townes Van Zandt weredrinking vodka and coke on the side porch of Spellman’s Lounge early onesunny November afternoon in 1980. I’d just moved to Austin and was playinga demo tape for the manager, looking for my first Austin gig. After negotiatinga future Sunday night engagement, I was told Townes had sent word for meto join them and hurriedly turned off the tape, as Pancho & Lefty wascoming up next, and I wasn't sure Townes would appreciate my interpretation.Both Townes and Blaze were very encouraging and provided me with severalleads where singer-songwriters could find work in Austin, including theBentwood Tavern (soon to become the Austin Outhouse). Blaze and I becamefriends, often playing at the same clubs and sitting in at each other’sgigs. Blaze’s shows at places like Spellman’s, the
Outhouse and Taco Flats were likeattending a Songwriters Anonymous meeting, as there were usually more songwritersthan citizens in the audience and you never knew who you might get to hearperform. Blaze always shared his stage with friends and fellow songwriters.

Blaze came up with the idea to recordtwo nights at the Outhouse. He wanted to get as many of his songs as possibleon tape for demos and maybe find a European label interested in releasinga live album. We scheduled December 27th & 28th, 1988 to do the recordingand Blaze, of course, took the opportunity to invite several friends, includingSarah Elizabeth Campbell, to do guest sets, so they too could have liverecordings of their songs. As we were setting up, I realized Blaze didn’thave a guitar. Townes had bought him a nice Takamine with a built-in pickupwith his royalties from Willie and Merle’s recording of Pancho And Lefty,but that guitar was in the pawn shop. Not to worry. Blaze never did sweatthe small stuff, his good friend Tony di
Roadie would bring a guitar. Roadie’sguitar had no pickup, requiring the use of a microphone, which accountsfor much of the “Outhouse ambiance” on the tape, including sounds fromthe cash register, the tip jar, squeaky bar stools, the ladies room doorand intermittent harmonies from the audience. Blaze did most of the twonights solo, occasionally inviting Ed Bradfield (the bartender) to joinhim on harmonica. Champ Hood had come to play with Sarah Elizabeth andsat in on a couple of songs.

During the first week of January 1989,we rerecorded Oh Darlin’ and Oooh Love in my garage studio (this time Blazeplayed one of my guitars). Blaze and Sarah Elizabeth added some harmonytracks, David Waddell bass tracks for a few songs and I added some piano.During these sessions, we whittled the six hours of recording down to about115 minutes, to fit on a cassette and scheduled a tape release party atthe Outhouse for February 26th, 1989. Our intention was to make 50 or sotapes, enough to cover the cost of the recording. When discussing how muchto charge for the tapes, Blaze was unsure at first. Then he said he wantedto charge $5 and donate $1 from each tape sale to the homeless shelter.

On the afternoon of February 1st,1989, I took a press release for the tape release party to the Outhouse,only to find Blaze had been shot and had died that morning following surgery.My first inclination was to cancel the party, but Blaze’s attorney andseveral close friends insisted he’d absolutely want the tape released,and anyway the money was needed to help pay for his funeral. Two runs of250 were produced, money from the second run being donated to the Austinhomeless shelter in Blaze’s name. The original Outhouse tape has been outof print for at least six years.

In 1998, Ray Benson called to sayhe would be glad to play at a tribute show to honor the late Jubal Clark,but needed some flexibility in the scheduling because Merle Haggard wasat his studio that day. I took the opportunity to leave Merle a Blaze tape,assuming (correctly) he’d never heard Blaze perform, even though he andWillie had recorded If I Could Only Fly in 1987. A few weeks later, Merle’smanager called and said Merle wanted to get several more copies of theOuthouse tape, and tapes of anything else Blaze had ever recorded. I metwith Merle on his bus before a show in
Dennison, Texas, and hand-deliveredthe tapes. Merle was genuinely interested in Blaze, where he had grownup, who his friends were, who had played with him. Merle asked if the Outhousewas still open, suggesting he’d like to make a video there with musicianswho’d played with Blaze. I told Merle that when If I Could Only Fly wasfirst released, a trade paper in Nashville had quoted Merle saying it wasthe best country song he had heard in 15 years. When I told Merle thatBlaze kept a copy of that magazine rolled up in his boot for months, Merlevisibly shuddered. A few weeks later, I got a call from Merle saying hehad been listening to Blaze every day on the bus and that, even thoughhe'd recently rerecorded If I Could Only Fly, he intended to record itagain, feeling he better understood the song after listening to Blaze singit.

Lost Art Records has generously broughttogether the resources to remix and edit the Outhouse tapes for CD. Wewere able to structure the financing so that Blaze’s mother will get thelargest share of the proceeds, with 20% of the net income donated to theAustin Resource Center for the Homeless in Blaze’s name. Blaze’s attorney,Peggy Underwood, was very helpful in taking care of legal issues and contractsand making arrangements for Blaze’s mother. Blaze was one of the most powerfulsongwriters and performers to come out of the Austin music scene in a longtime and he deserves to have his music and songs available for people tohear—and feel. This CD will, I hope, give more people the opportunity toexperience Blaze.   John Casner

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