Admit it, you miss Texas. Lubbock may not have a lot of - okay, any - scenery, Dallas may take a little too much pride in the fact that they shot a TV show there, and Houston might not have the best climate/air quality/traffic, but it's home, dammit. Spend much time in other parts of the country and you'll likely find yourself pining for the state's many intangibles, like Shiner Bock, lack of state income tax, and abusive TABC agents. Most Texas songwriters have a song or three that discuss this phenomenon. Here's a sample:
We could've done several entries on Edwards, whose distinctive Western style seems out of another time. Seeing as he released his first album a whopping 45 years ago, that sentiment's not too far off the mark.
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Nanci Griffith, "Spin on a Red Brick Floor": The sure remedy for when New York "brings out the stupids" in you is a trip to Houston's historic Anderson Fair, where you'll be treated to fine acoustic music three nights a week. And if you make the same mistake we did when we first moved to Houston and show up on a Tuesday or Wednesday, not to worry. Rudyard's is a just a few blocks west.
Steve Earle, "Fort Worth Blues": The sentiment is admirable, and - it being Earle and all - delivered with sincerity and emotion, but one can't help but question the narrator's apparent preference for Dallas' neighbor city to the the pearls of Europe. Though it's certainly hard to get a decent chicken fried steak in Paris.