By Vince Bell
In detailing his restoration from the twist of fate and his roundabout climb again onstage, Bell shines a gentle in these darkish corners of the track company that, for the lone musician whose good fortune is measured now not through the head forty yet through nightly victories, often fall outdoors of the highlight. Bell’s prose isn't really not like his lyrics: spare, attractive, evocative, and sometimes sneak-up-on-you humorous. His chronicle of his personal existence and close to dying at the street finds what it capability to dwell for one’s art.
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Additional info for One Man's Music: The Life and Times of Texas Songwriter Vince Bell (North Texas Lives of Musician Series)
Example text
Yes ma’am, good morning—and good night,” as I politely closed the door and went back to bed. I spent three days there playing ping-pong with the women’s basketball team during the afternoons. I did my show at night in the same room. ” They were the number-one women’s basketball team in the nation that year, and they acted like it with those paddles, like riot clubs, in their hands. When I won a game from one of them, they circled the table like a pack of hungry hyenas. 28╇ �╇ One Man’s Music: The Life and Times of Texas Songwriter Vince Bell After that every one of them wanted a piece of yours truly.
You have to go up the highway to Tulia, or down to Floydada. ” Then with his hands cupped over my ear, “From the night clerk at the hotel down on the town square. By the way, I wasn’t going to come out tonight. But I watched you beat that point guard at the table today. ” Completing my third set of the night at 78 rpms, including some Lennon and some Dylan, I made a beeline to the hotel on the sleepy square. Hell, the whole block around looked abandoned even in the broad daylight. Dry as a bone with a pocketful of money, I walked into the deserted foyer and found one good fellow reading the local paper behind the register.
His head rested on a monogrammed pillow bigger than he was. He was bright-eyed now and talking some unintelligible wino gibberish at a hundred miles an hour. Muffled behind the glass but smiling from behind that silver tooth again, Townes consoled, “Now, now. Take it easy. You’re gonna bust a gut. Do you see that obnoxious kid out there? On the patio. Yeah, that frosty one. Do you think he’s learned his lesson yet? ” The wide-eyed bum was speechless but staring right at me. I thought, Thanks a lot, old man.