Full Version: RIP Rusty Wier
we lost one of the original texas singer-songwriters today.
Rusty Wier was advertised to be at the Texas Theater in Waxahachie just a couple of weeks ago. He was a good one.
Even though his fans knew this day was coming it is still a very, very sad day. Rusty was one of the greatest entertainers I have ever seen. It didn't matter if he had a band behind him, or if he was onstage by himself, he could always captivate an audience. May God bless you Rusty Weir. See you at the Blackhat Saloon.
From Rusty Wier.com:
Rusty Wier Tribute
May 3, 1944 - October 9, 2009
Rusty Wier told us early on that he didn’t want to lay his guitar down. And we most certainly didn’t want to let him. We watched and prayed and prayed some more these past two years as he fought the demon cancer with that same sense of determination and commitment he brought to entertaining every time those big ol’ boots of his hit the stage.
Joe Ables, who owns the Saxon Pub, home of Rusty’s regular Thursday night gig for 14 years, knows something about that: “I use Rusty as an example to these younger acts, who get a little sniffle and then want to cancel. Even before it happens, I always tell ’em about him. I’ve seen him sicker ’n a dog, but hit the stage, and you’d never know it. A true professional.”
And Margaret Moser told us about the time Rusty stepped up on that stage for one of those Thursday night shows less than twelve hours after his mother had passed away. “She didn’t want me to miss the show,” he explained. “Just make ’em smile. It’s what I’m there for. They’re not there to hear all my problems. And I do my best to make ’em laugh.”
And, boy, was he good at that. Having discovered his inner ham at the tender age of three while charming patrons of his father’s Austin restaurant by riding his stick horse between the tables as the pianist played “The William Tell Overture,” Rusty fully embraced the joy of entertaining.
He banged on pots and pans with spoons until the age of ten, when his parents finally bought him a set of drums. “Then they turned around and bought me a soundproof room,” he adds with a touch of that typical Wier humor.
Within three years, Rusty was defying parental and legal curfews to begin his professional career drumming for the Centennials. Over the next ten years, he drummed his way through several rock and roll outfits, including the Wig with Benny Rowe and Lavender Hill Express with Layton DePenning and Gary P. Nunn. Somewhere along the way, he discovered the blues clubs of East Austin and began to broaden his musical horizons.
Rusty’s adamant stand against being pigeonholed into any one genre of music probably dates from this period in the Sixties, when folk, rock, and blues all cross pollinated to produce new strains of music. And he was already looking to throw another element into the mix. As he recalled, “I wanted to call Lavender Hill Express ‘the Blue Mountain Train.’ I was trying to go country even then.”
But there was a different change of direction in Rusty’s immediate future. When Lavender Hill Express broke up, he put down his drumsticks, picked up a Mel Bay book of guitar chords, and began teaching himself to play the guitar.
Heading into the Seventies, our budding Texas troubadour was right on schedule for a head-on collision with his destiny. Just as Michael Martin Murphey, Jerry Jeff Walker, Steven Fromholz, Willie Nelson, and Waylon Jennings were all busy turning that Sixties blend of folk, rock, and blues into the “Austin Sound,” Rusty Wier came back from an ill-advised trip to LA with the inspiration for a little ditty called “Don’t It Make You Wanna Dance.”
The rest, as they say, was history. Recorded by artists as diverse as John Hiatt, Barbara Mandell, and Jerry Jeff, the song became a monster hit when Bonnie Raitt’s version appeared on the Urban Cowboy soundtrack, earning Rusty a double platinum record for over two million sales. His signature song, it catapulted him to fame, fortune, and life in the fast lane. He suddenly found himself touring with such artists as Ray Charles, the Charlie Daniels and Marshall Tucker bands, The Outlaws, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Amazing Rhythm Aces, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, the Atlanta Rhythm Section, Pure Prairie League, The Allman Brothers, Commander Cody, Asleep at the Wheel, Doug Kershaw, and Gatemouth Brown, among others. Sometimes, as was the case with George Strait, they opened and he headlined the shows.
Rusty signed his first contract with ABC Records and later recorded with both 20th Century and Columbia Records, producing more than a dozen albums during the course of his career. He also appeared on Austin City Limits on three different occasions, delivering his unique brand of what Margaret Moser labeled “Rusticana.”
A songwriter’s songwriter, an entertainer’s entertainer, perhaps Moser summed up Rusty Wier best of all when she observed, “Through rain, sleet, and dark of night, Rusty Wier delivers.” And now Rusty Wier has been delivered. And if that don’t exactly make you wanna dance, do it anyway. It’s what he would have wanted.
Rusty Wier Tribute
May 3, 1944 - October 9, 2009
Rusty Wier told us early on that he didn’t want to lay his guitar down. And we most certainly didn’t want to let him. We watched and prayed and prayed some more these past two years as he fought the demon cancer with that same sense of determination and commitment he brought to entertaining every time those big ol’ boots of his hit the stage.
Joe Ables, who owns the Saxon Pub, home of Rusty’s regular Thursday night gig for 14 years, knows something about that: “I use Rusty as an example to these younger acts, who get a little sniffle and then want to cancel. Even before it happens, I always tell ’em about him. I’ve seen him sicker ’n a dog, but hit the stage, and you’d never know it. A true professional.”
And Margaret Moser told us about the time Rusty stepped up on that stage for one of those Thursday night shows less than twelve hours after his mother had passed away. “She didn’t want me to miss the show,” he explained. “Just make ’em smile. It’s what I’m there for. They’re not there to hear all my problems. And I do my best to make ’em laugh.”
And, boy, was he good at that. Having discovered his inner ham at the tender age of three while charming patrons of his father’s Austin restaurant by riding his stick horse between the tables as the pianist played “The William Tell Overture,” Rusty fully embraced the joy of entertaining.
He banged on pots and pans with spoons until the age of ten, when his parents finally bought him a set of drums. “Then they turned around and bought me a soundproof room,” he adds with a touch of that typical Wier humor.
Within three years, Rusty was defying parental and legal curfews to begin his professional career drumming for the Centennials. Over the next ten years, he drummed his way through several rock and roll outfits, including the Wig with Benny Rowe and Lavender Hill Express with Layton DePenning and Gary P. Nunn. Somewhere along the way, he discovered the blues clubs of East Austin and began to broaden his musical horizons.
Rusty’s adamant stand against being pigeonholed into any one genre of music probably dates from this period in the Sixties, when folk, rock, and blues all cross pollinated to produce new strains of music. And he was already looking to throw another element into the mix. As he recalled, “I wanted to call Lavender Hill Express ‘the Blue Mountain Train.’ I was trying to go country even then.”
But there was a different change of direction in Rusty’s immediate future. When Lavender Hill Express broke up, he put down his drumsticks, picked up a Mel Bay book of guitar chords, and began teaching himself to play the guitar.
Heading into the Seventies, our budding Texas troubadour was right on schedule for a head-on collision with his destiny. Just as Michael Martin Murphey, Jerry Jeff Walker, Steven Fromholz, Willie Nelson, and Waylon Jennings were all busy turning that Sixties blend of folk, rock, and blues into the “Austin Sound,” Rusty Wier came back from an ill-advised trip to LA with the inspiration for a little ditty called “Don’t It Make You Wanna Dance.”
The rest, as they say, was history. Recorded by artists as diverse as John Hiatt, Barbara Mandell, and Jerry Jeff, the song became a monster hit when Bonnie Raitt’s version appeared on the Urban Cowboy soundtrack, earning Rusty a double platinum record for over two million sales. His signature song, it catapulted him to fame, fortune, and life in the fast lane. He suddenly found himself touring with such artists as Ray Charles, the Charlie Daniels and Marshall Tucker bands, The Outlaws, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Amazing Rhythm Aces, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, the Atlanta Rhythm Section, Pure Prairie League, The Allman Brothers, Commander Cody, Asleep at the Wheel, Doug Kershaw, and Gatemouth Brown, among others. Sometimes, as was the case with George Strait, they opened and he headlined the shows.
Rusty signed his first contract with ABC Records and later recorded with both 20th Century and Columbia Records, producing more than a dozen albums during the course of his career. He also appeared on Austin City Limits on three different occasions, delivering his unique brand of what Margaret Moser labeled “Rusticana.”
A songwriter’s songwriter, an entertainer’s entertainer, perhaps Moser summed up Rusty Wier best of all when she observed, “Through rain, sleet, and dark of night, Rusty Wier delivers.” And now Rusty Wier has been delivered. And if that don’t exactly make you wanna dance, do it anyway. It’s what he would have wanted.
I saw Rusty Wier everywhere else but never did attend his annual concert benefit in Glen Rose on the Paluxi River. He did that for a long time. It was a benefit to help pay legal services in fighting the damming of the Paluxi through the area of Dinosaur Valley State Park. It still has not been dammed.
Many of those groups listed were weekly billings when Panther Hall in Fort Worth was reopened after I don't know how many years of being closed. At least I remember it that way as Progressive Country became popular and someone opened a venue at Panther Hall for some time. $3 admission and all the draft beer you could drink, usually Pearl or Falstaff, lol.
Thanks Rusty for all the memories.
Many of those groups listed were weekly billings when Panther Hall in Fort Worth was reopened after I don't know how many years of being closed. At least I remember it that way as Progressive Country became popular and someone opened a venue at Panther Hall for some time. $3 admission and all the draft beer you could drink, usually Pearl or Falstaff, lol.
Thanks Rusty for all the memories.
Here's an article about Rusty from the Austin American Statesman:
http://www.austin360.com/music/content/mus...0/1010wier.html
http://www.austin360.com/music/content/mus...0/1010wier.html
Rusty Weir.....now that brings back memories!
RIP - Many a fond memory of him playing at Steamboat Springs in Austin. I am afraid him being a Texas saloon singer caught up with him.
He is jamming with his old friend B.W. Stevenson.
He is jamming with his old friend B.W. Stevenson.
deleted
QUOTE (bordertown @ Oct 12 2009, 05:05 PM) 
RIP - Many a fond memory of him playing at Steamboat Springs in Austin. I am afraid him being a Texas saloon singer caught up with him.
He is jamming with his old friend B.W. Stevenson.
He is jamming with his old friend B.W. Stevenson.
Jamming with B.W. Stevenson. I have not thought of that name recently!
my maria..... 
QUOTE (stoneykelly @ Oct 14 2009, 10:51 AM)
my maria.....
It's been a month since you mentioned that song! Good grief I'm slow. I liked that song.
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