(photo by Steve Circeo)
Garrett T. Capps' show last night at Sam's was one of those occasions you almost missed, then you were glad you were there. After a long day of work, I was so close to passing out on the couch, when a mysterious force told me to get in the car and start driving. Soon after the show started, I was re-energized by a pure Texas country-rock party when I was expecting a mellow, rural affair.
Fronting his own band for the first time (and what a band: Phillip Luna on drums, Scott Lutz on guitar and lap steel, Odie on bass), Capps went through faster, harder versions of songs from his Hope & Doubt & Freeway Birds EP and introduced us to some unreleased gems he'll begin recording in January. One of these was show opener "Bitchin.'"
I could have used less Dylanesque inflections on his voice (he didn't sound like that on the album), but him and the band, performing their first public gig ever, sounded like true veterans that have been playing together for a decade (Lutz and his lap steel was a show apart). The cover of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' 1965 classic "Wooly Booly" had the crowd (who had already been dancing to ferocious unreleased rockers) taking over the dancefloor.
Capps appropriately closed the show with show-stopper: a 10-minute version of 'San Antone,' another new song that caught me by surprise, but I was able to catch the last four minutes or so. Go to the next page to see it and read the song's lyrics.
It is a new instant San Antonio classic I hope he releases in 2014 (Capps is recording "enough songs for two full-lengths" starting in January). Check out the complete "San Antone" lyrics:
I was born in San Antone (x 2)
even though I’m a gringo,
I was born in San Antone
When I was younger and feelin' so bold
everyone told me to never leave home
I said I’m sorry but I gotta go
but I was born in San Antone.
Went to Boystown, caught the donkey show
then San Marcos, Midland and Arlington
couldn’t get a gig in Austin
'cuz I was born in San Antone.
Out in Denver, man they get too stoned
women in Portland are just skin and bone
LA, Nashville, New York, NO
when you were born in San Antone.
Jumped up to Europe by way of a boat
stranded in Dublin without no coat
someone asked me, "Where’d you come from, bloke?"
I’ve come from San Antone.
Hit right through Paris, Prague, and Rome
drank wine till my blood ate through my bones
lost my direction, 10 times alone
far from San Antone.
I found myself down a deep, dark road
empty pockets and a wayward soul
then I heard somethin' on the radio
sounded like San Antone.
It had deep blues roots, and a Vox organ
a groovy shaker, and a Fender tone
it said "she’s about a mover" and I was gone
gone home to San Antone.
Sir Doug, Flaco, and the Sun-Glos
Butthole Surfers and Bongo Joe
Ozzy pissin' on the Alamo
Pistols at Randy’s Rodeo
Godfather on the radio
Gunther Hotel Robert Jo
Leon Valley, China Grove
South Side, West Side, Olmos
Alamo Heights and Stone Oak
USAA and Valero
HEB, Bill Miller, Clear Channel
Frost Bank, Rackspace, Santikos
Avery Johnson, George Gervin
Duncan, Bonner, Admiral
Memorial Day Miracle
lengua, nopalitos, menudo
bacon egg cheese with some pico
el pastor onions cilantro
over easy on huevos rancheros
carne guisada, queso fresco
Barbacoa y chicharrón
cheese enchiladas w/borracho
flauta, chalupa, special nachos
guacamole salad with my puffy tacos
I WAS BORN IN SAN ANTONE
(photo by Steve Circeo)