Butch Hancock
Cactus Café
Austin, Texas

“He’s kind of gone his own way in the world…”, says a middle-aged man outside the venue, “…rode his bike around town before it was cool, built his own house, that kind of thing.” Amidst a room filled with friends and fans alike, one thing becomes certain about Butch Hancock - this guy represents something very dear to his supporters. However, this was peculiar only until he made his way to the stage, his son, Rory, just steps behind him. Hancock is dressed in faded shades of black - the modest type - bearing a small, cherry-red acoustic; his son sits next to him on guitar wearing an oversized floral-themed button-up. It’s every bit of charming. Within seconds, he’s filling the room with stories of adventures in Italy, Los Angeles, and all over the globe. He’s joking and they’re laughing - a common thread throughout the night. But unlike most musicians, Hancock’s humor didn’t end where the songs begun. Rather, a majority of the laughter came in direct response to his lyrics. His newest song, for instance, roused a continual wave of laughter with clever lines like, “I got my mojo workin, but it just don’t work no more” - a modest but - judging by the response of the crowd - incorrect evaluation. But don’t assume Hancock’s light-hearted wit is indication of him lacking any bit of depth.

Butch can inquire into the metaphysical realm and he often does. In an instant his voice will drop down an octave and the grin fall from his face, leaving him asking the big questions. In the song “Danglin’ Diamond”, for example, he croons - “Time flies by beyond the blues. Where am I? Where are you?” His trick is he refuses to get hung up on the inexplainable, but embraces complexity instead, hence the humor. On this note, a reoccurring theme of Hancock’s commentary was the question of, “what’s happy and what’s sad about a thing?” All in all, the laughs were there, the sincerity was there, and most importantly - the melodies stuck around even when the bar was closing.

Oh, and one more thing - the kid, Rory? Rory can play.

by Ryan Thornton