The Armadillo in Four Scenes

From Willie to the Clash, the AWHQ hosted it all for 10 1/2 years

In recognition of tomorrow’s anniversary of “the Big Bang” of the Austin music scene, let’s go back home with the Armadillo World Headquarters, whose 1,600-capacity made it feel like both the world’s largest nightclub and smallest arena. The Dillo (1970-1980) hosted the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Van Morrison, Talking Heads (six times!), Bette Midler, and AC/DC’s first concert on American soil, but it also incubated a local scene that went national on Austin City Limits and with the “progressive country” radio format. Before Willie Nelson ushered in the outlaw country/cosmic cowboy movement with an August 12, 1972 show at the Dillo that was written up in Rolling Stone, Austin was not known for music, but for LBJ, Texas Longhorns football, and a sniper on the tower. Books have been written about the grandaddy of all Austin music venues (whose rent was about the average one bedroom in Austin today), but let’s condense the experience and legacy into four pivotal shows:

Willie Nelson - Aug. 12, 1972

Classic poster by Micael Priest sells for about $750 today.

With Vietnam still raging, the cultural chasm in Texas was wide as the Brazos River. Longhairs weren’t welcome in honky tonks, and cowboys didn’t mingle with “peaceniks.” It was jocks vs. nerds, Jesus vs. Jimi, bullies against the passive. But five words built a bridge.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Willie Nelson!”

A short-haired, clean-shaven Nelson stepped onto the stage of a  counterculture haven and, with a three-hour show that nobody left early, expanded country music. That night, the Vulcan Gas Company merged with the Broken Spoke, as Austin became the city where kickers and freaks were starting to understand each other’s culture. If we can both love Willie, and show pride for Texas, maybe we’re not that far apart.

Willie Nelson in 1973. Photo Van Brooks.

After years of wearing a suit, and trying to get Nashville to accept him, Willie said screw it and moved to where his true audience was. His first Austin friend Leon Russell was a fashion mentor.

When Eddie Wilson heard that Willie, wife Connie, and the kids had moved to the River Walk Apartments on Riverside Drive in July ‘72, he made it his mission to book Nelson into his hippie beer barn. It wasn’t hard. Willie stopped by the Armadillo not long after his utilities had been turned on. “I’ve been looking for you,” said Eddie. “Well, you found me,” said Willie.

Kenneth Threadgill’s Hootenanny Hoots and Greezy Wheels had been getting hippies and rednecks together before Willie Nelson’s first show at the Dillo. But Chet Flippo didn’t write about those fledgling scenes at the Split Rail and Hungry Horse. A grad student attending UT on the G.I. Bill, Flippo attended that pivotal Willie show and was inspired to write a big story in Rolling Stone that introduced Austin’s groovy longhaired cowboy scene to those seeking the next San Francisco. “Musicians from all over were flocking to Austin to see what the fuss was about,” said guit-steel master Junior Brown, who was one of them in early 1973. There was something special happening in the capital of Texas, but as more bands moved to Austin with Dillo dreams and Soap hopes, gigs were harder to come by. It was a groover’s market!

Thanksgiving Jam - Nov. 23, 1972

Leon Russell and Jerry Garcia look to Doug Sahm for guidance on the Thanksgiving jam to remember. Photo Scott Newton.

Austin has long been the site of memorable jam sessions, but the most famous (sorry, U2 and SRV at Antone’s in ’87) was on Thanksgiving 1972. The Grateful Dead had a gig at Municipal Auditorium the night before and they worked up a deal with the nearby Armadillo to cater the pre-show meal for band, crew and entourage. Jerry Garcia looked around the nice-sized hall, and said, “I’d love to play this place.” Within earshot was Eddie W., who said to tell him when. “Well, we’re not doing anything tomorrow,” said Garcia. The Dead had a day off, but only Garcia and bassist Phil Lesh were gonna be in Austin, as the rest of the band was headed to a Thanksgiving feast in Corpus with top tier Deadhead Frances Carr, whose family was prominent there.

Garcia’s good friend Doug Sahm said, “let’s have a jam session, man, and let everyone in for free!” Later that night, Leon Russell was backstage at the Dead show when Garcia asked if he wanted to stop by tomorrow and play some piano. It would be a Thanksgiving jam to beat ‘em all.

The next morning, Eddie Wilson called up radio station KRMH (“Good Karma Radio”) and said that the Dillo, which was scheduled to be closed on Thanksgiving, would be open after all for a free show. “A bunch of friends got nowhere else to go today, so they’re gonna be jamming,” Wilson said. Since the Dead had played the night before, it didn’t take folks long to figure out they’d be involved. The surprise guest was Leon, who had the number two album in the country in ‘72 with Carney. Wilson was tight-lipped about his appearance lest a bunch of townies show up and yell requests for “Tight Rope.”

Garcia, Lesh and Russell got there at about 3 p.m., but wouldn’t start until Sahm arrived about half an hour later. “Doug knows a thousand songs,” Jerry told Leon. They seemed to play most of them that night.  

Soon after the Thanksgiving jam started, a torrential downpour bore down, so one of the first songs played was “Stormy Monday” by T-Bone Walker. Leon, who played more guitar than piano, later kicked everybody in on “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall.” But Sahm was clearly the leader. Garcia played pedal steel almost all night, with Sweet Mary Egan from Greezy Wheels a standout on fiddle on the first set, which was heavy with country songs, while the second set was more blues and rock. Jerry Barnett of Shiva’s Head Band warmed the drum seat most of that magical day, which ended early eve with an all-hands-on-deck medley of Chuck Berry’s “Roll Over Beethoven” and Little Richard’s “Good Golly Miss Molly.” About 1,000 lucky fans had reason to be thankful that night.

It was not a day to be starstruck. After the jam, Jerry Garcia approached adventurous violinist Benny Thurman and asked if he’d consider going on tour with his band. “You’re a starling and I’m a crow, so I must decline,” said Thurman, the former 13th Floor Elevators bassist, whose mind was often in a faraway Zip Code. “You don’t want to be in the Grateful Dead?” someone asked the violinist after Garcia, the guy he’d been playing with for two hours, walked away. “Oh, shit,” said Thurman. “Is that who that was?”

Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart - May 20 & 21, 1975

Zappa and Beefheart at Sandy’s for Bongo Fury cover.

Next to Willie, Freddie King and Commander Cody, the musician with the deepest connection to the world’s grooviest party barn was Frank Zappa, who never smoked dope and often satirized the counterculture in his songs. But he had an affinity for the Dillo tribe, even writing a verse about Big Rikke, the Guacamole Queen, in his 1975 song “Inca Roads,” from One Size Fits All. “He played so often that we had to rotate the artists who did the posters, and they all seemed to get a crack at Zappa,” said Eddie Wilson. The second time rock’s weirdo composer (and great guitarist) played the hip hangar in ’74, there was a bomb scare in the middle of a song. After the evacuated fans were returned to the hall an hour later, Zappa struck up the band at the exact point in the song where the concert had paused.

But none of Zappa’s shows on Barton Springs Road stand out this many years later like the two nights in May 1975 that were recorded for Bongo Fury, the last Zappa album with the Mothers of Invention as his band’s name. Released five months after the Armadillo shows, Bongo teamed Zappa with his former Antelope Valley High School (Lancaster, Cal.) classmate Don Van Vliet, better known as Captain Beefheart. The two avant-guardians of the hippie era had huge influences on each other growing up, and Zappa produced the Beefheart masterpiece Trout Mask Replica (1969). But the Bongo Fury tour was the only time Beefheart went on the road with Zappa. The album also marked the first appearance of drummer Terry Bozzio, who later moved to Austin, as original Mothers skinsmith Jimmy Carl Black had done.

“Zappa was a compulsive perfectionist,” recalled Wilson. “Our crew worked their asses off for him. I think that’s one of the main reasons he liked the Armadillo.” For one show his contract stipulated that he’d have four hours to rehearse and a full hour soundcheck before the doors opened at 7 p.m. Except Zappa’s equipment trucks didn’t arrive until 5:30 p.m. and he had only 15 minutes to soundcheck. “Zappa was really pissed off and I said, ‘I know the last thing in the world you want to do right now is meet anybody, but you’ve got a blind, crippled guy opening for you and I’ll take you over to meet him if you’d like.” Zappa and Blind George McLain hit it off and Zappa took the Split Rail regular out on the road with him to open a couple more Texas shows.

Photo Kevin Vandivier for the Daily Texan. Briscoe Center for American History.

Of the nine tracks on Bongo Fury, six were recorded at the Armadillo, including the Van Vliet poem/songs “Sam with the Showing Scalp Flat Top” (the title Bongo Fury comes from the lyrics) and “Man with the Woman Head.” Three tracks were recorded in the studio. The concert ends with Zappa (who passed away from prostate cancer in 1993), saying “Goodnight Austin, Texas, wherever you are,” a catchphrase that speaks to the moveable spirit of those shows.

 The Clash with Joe Ely - Oct. 4, 1979

Photo by Mark Ely.

Someone described this Oct. 1979 show as Ely and his band pouring gasoline all over the stage and then the Clash coming out and lighting a match. “There was such an explosive feeling in the air,” said Ely. “I felt it. The Clash felt it. Our attitude was ‘it’s Saturday night at the honky tonk and someone just shot a gun into the ceiling.’ It was one of those dangerous nights where anything can happen.”

A few punks threw cups and stuff on stage during Ely’s set, but by the end of the night Joe was onstage singing “Fingernails” with the Clash. It’s always great when a local favorite is embraced by a bigtime act, as Springsteen would later do with Ely.

The modern singing cowboys from Lubbock met the Clash five months earlier in London, when the punk explorers showed up at an Ely gig at the Venue, and then guided the band around London for the better part of a week. “I said, ‘if you ever come to Texas, we’d like to return the favor,’” recalled Ely. “They were all fascinated with Texas.” Joe Strummer called Ely a few weeks later and rattled off the cities the Clash wanted to play: Laredo, El Paso, San Antone, the cities of cowboy movies and Marty Robbins songs. But first was the show at the Armadillo: the Clash’s Texas debut.

The band had recently recorded London Calling before the ’79 US tour, but it wouldn’t be out for two months after the Dillo show. The Clash previewed several upcoming songs, including the title track, “Spanish Bombs” and “Clamptown.” When they ended with “White Riot” they almost caused one. 

The Dillo was known among fans for its nachos (a new culinary concept not yet picked up by sports stadiums), but touring acts loved the quality of chef Jan Beeman’s pre-show catering. Van Morrison once booked a show there on short notice to try the shrimp enchiladas Jerry Garcia and Zappa had been raving about. But the Clash’s only meal request was for a toaster, a loaf of white bread and a big can of baked beans. "Beans on toast is all they ever ate," said Ely. That diet seemed to work just fine.

Cover photo of Willie, Michael Martin Murphey and Eddie Wilson by Prissy Mays. Courtesy of AusPop Archives.

Austin Music Is a Scene Not a Sound coming Spring 2024 on TCU Press.