Fond Memories of "PeeWee's Whorehouse"
La Zona Rosa was created as an "only in Austin" venue with good food and great conversation
Dubbed an “Ice House for the Arts,” La Zona Rosa was a special Austin restaurant/club, opened by musician Marcia Ball and husband Gordon Fowler of 2-Alarm Chili in late ‘89. Located on Fourth at Rio Grande, an area that looked like where the mob dumped bodies, LZR was inspired by crazy cafe/bars in bordertown red light districts, with decor (black velvet paintings, bright colors, weird rectangle cutaways) that made someone dub it “PeeWee’s Whorehouse.” Each table on the cafe side was hand-painted by local artists; the truckstop enchiladas were so addictive you didn’t need to look at a menu.
The club’s big room was dubbed the Marcia Ballroom, and that’s where the name acts played. But there was something about the cafe stage, where sadness was served at its most comfortable, especially on Sarah Elizabeth Campbell’s “Bummer Night.” Has Alejandro Escovedo ever sounded as warm as on the Sunday nights that closed SXSW?
When post-Sweet Old World Lucinda Williams did SXSW in ‘94, the year the Austin Music Hall opened a block away, she insisted on playing the much smaller La Zona. A riot nearly broke out when hundreds of pissed-off wristband-wearers in an unmoving line watched the badge people waltz on in. It was just as crazy the next night, when Ben Harper played. That was the year, ‘94, when locals were still livid about not getting into a show with a wristband, an expectation tempered over time.
That was also the year Fowler, Ball and their investors sold the club to World Series hero Kelly Gruber of the ‘92 Toronto Blue Jays, and his realtor wife Tosca. Westlake High alum Gruber, who had just retired from baseball due to injuries, was a rock ‘n’ roller, so that’s where the bookings went. Not sure how long the Grubers had it, but LZR kept losing money until Tim O’Connor took over in 1997. By then it was just a live music club with a dogleg, and a 1,500 capacity that gave Direct Events more flexibility for acts not ready for AMH or the Backyard, both at twice the capacity.
Among the acts who played O’Connor’s La Zona: Amy Winehouse, Ryan Bingham, Van Morrison, Bo Burnham, Arctic Monkeys, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and so on. It was always hard to get a drink there with lines five-deep around the bars.
The last act to play under O’Connor’s ownership was Prince at SXSW 2013, sponsored by Samsung. The space has been renovated once again and is currently renting out for private parties.
The original La Zona Rosa was nothing like what the venue eventually became. You’d go there for Sunday brunch and see Gov. Ann Richards, in shorts and flip flops, reading the New York Times. Molly Ivins entertaining writers from Texas Monthly. Every poster artist in town. Sometimes there’d be a Mexican accordion player.
I left Austin in June ‘88 and returned in June ‘95, so I didn’t live here when La Zona Rosa was a bohemian salon for hungry liberals and starving artists. I came down from Dallas in ‘92 to interview Stephen Bruton, the longtime Kris Kristofferson guitarist (and DFW native) who was making his debut solo album What It Is. He suggested meeting at La Zona Rosa, and we had a nice interview, as Bruton sent his wisdom into the tape recorder while I got my truckstop fix. (Getting paid to interview Bruton was like stealing.)
Setting up in the corner stage was Jimmy LaFave, who wasn’t from Lubbock and didn’t play the blues at Antone's, so he didn’t have much of a following. This was right before Austin Skyline, recorded live at Chicago House, put him on the map. I’d never seen him before, but I was so glad I stuck around.
"From deep inside a tear/ I'm forced to cry/ And deep inside the pain/I chose to hide," he sang over Larry Wilson’s shimmering guitar. I know that song! And then LaFave, in a sunny-side-down voice that was part Steve Forbert, part Rod Stewart, wailed the chorus: "Just walk away Renee/you won't see me follow you back home." It was that 1966 teenybopper lament by the Left Banke, but slower, more soulful. LaFave's heart broke like an egg and dripped all over the next line: "The empty sidewalks on our block are not the same/but you're not to blame.” A poppy kiss-off song was transformed into a dirge of lost innocence, and the blood rushed to my head. God damn, this guy could sing! Seeing a great set at La Zona Rosa would send you out into the night thinking Austin was the greatest city in the world.
The above calendar from June ‘91 shows you the caliber of acts LZR was booking in the beginning. I mean, Esteban Jordan and Valerio Longoria on the same week!? The Alejandro Escovedo Orchestra became a thing there, and you had zydeco, blues, samba, Lubbock guys, and LZR’s singing waitress Toni Price.
La Zona Rosa was too cool to live on in its original concept, but you’re not to blame. Austin got five good years. La Zona Rosa certainly didn’t suck after that, but the magic was gone. And Jesus, could those bartenders be any slower?!
That’s me in red sitting next to JFKLN. I probably ate at LZR three times a week, listening to Gordon rail on about how he refused to serve sour cream. I also did the lights in the ballroom many many times - either for Midnight Lighting or Crosswind. Joe Ely, Iris deMent, Eric Johnson, Big Head Todd, John Hartford, Alejandro, Lucinda Williams… can’t even remember them all.
LZR was the place you would take an out of towner to show them just how cool austin could be. The tables were amazing, I remember always trying to sit at Roberta St Paul’s. Truck Stop Enchiladas were great but so was the masa crust pizza with tamales and vegetable eschabeche. Susan and I spent our first married morning there sharing what was left of the Groom’s cake with the staff before we jetted off to Mexico.