Clint Broussard tickles the turntables at Poison Girl every second Monday of the month. Credit: Photo by Geneva Gordon/Courtesy of Clint Broussard

For everything that has already been written and said about Hurricane Harvey, not a lot of art has come out of it yet. Maybe itโ€™s too soon. Itโ€™s tough to spare much consideration for aesthetics when the highways are choked with gridlock, FEMA is in town, ruined furniture lines street after street, apartment complexes are awash in raw sewage, or neighbors and loved ones remain missing.

Despite the brave efforts of local creatives, many of whom have already marshaled their talents to help victims of the storm, the cityโ€™s live-music and theater scenes have been severely hobbled. That wonโ€™t last much longer, though. A handful of Harvey-related songs are already out; one is โ€œBecause of the Storm,โ€ an ode to compassion that Walter Suhr, leader of H-Town salsa veterans Mango Punch, released on Thursday.

But nothing has gone viral as of yet, and it could be years before a novel or film based around the events of the past few weeks is released. Weโ€™ve seen dozens of stirring photographs showing both natureโ€™s devastation and human kindness, but not one painting. Those memes of Steve Harveyโ€™s face barreling toward the Texas coast donโ€™t seem nearly as cute after the fact.

Still, if you believe art happens whenever people attempt to make sense of the world around them by expressing themselves โ€” especially when it doesnโ€™t seem to make much sense otherwise โ€” take a listen to โ€œHarvey,โ€ the 59th episode of Clint Broussardโ€™s A Day In the Life podcast. As the rains fell harder and the first of many rescue efforts began flickering across Houstoniansโ€™ TV screens late last month, Broussard began playing records that, one by one, amount to a hell of a story.

โ€œI thought it might be a rare opportunity to document and seize a moment with what has always been my passion: music, cultural references, a bit of humor and the ability to share my record collection from my living room,โ€ says Broussard, who also hosts KPFT’s Blues In Hi-Fi Monday afternoons and DJs Poison Girl the second Monday of each month. โ€œIt was an attempt to go through it all with the listener.โ€

โ€œHarveyโ€ begins perhaps the only way it could: the world-weary but matter-of-fact voice of Sam โ€œLightninโ€™โ€ Hopkins from 1959’s “Rainy Day Blues.” ‘Rainy day in Houstonโ€ฆif it keeps on raininโ€™ I believe I will lose my mind,โ€ Hopkins sighs, well-chosen words an entire city could sympathize with. Johnny Cash’sย โ€œFive Feet High and Rising” ruefully cracks โ€œlooks like weโ€™ll be blessed with a little more rain.” Carole Kingโ€™s buoyant โ€œMight as Well Rain Until Septemberโ€ grins in the face of adversity; the Replacementsโ€™ โ€œDose of Thunderโ€ shakes a defiant fist at the heavens. Los Lobos sound determined rather than defeated on โ€œCanโ€™t Stop the Rain,โ€ which Broussard notes he chose for its explicit resemblance to ZZ Top.

โ€œYou gotta keep it in the family,โ€ he says. โ€œWhich is something [the city] illustrated proudly during and after Hurricane Harvey.โ€

Song by song, the program logs the artistic heights rain has inspired in some of the past centuryโ€™s greatest musicians, celebrating nature’s fearsome power at times but neutralizing it at others: The Beatlesโ€™ psychedelic bliss (โ€œRainโ€), Peter Gabrielโ€™s awestruck wonder (โ€œRed Rainโ€), the Grateful Deadโ€™s stoned serenity (โ€œBox of Rainโ€), Sir Douglas Quintetโ€™s Tex-Mex groove (โ€œThe Rains Cameโ€). Not that itโ€™s always quite so heavy. The cast opens with American Splendorโ€™s ultra-snide greeting โ€œHello, Joyceโ€ฆis Harvey home?โ€; every so often Broussard slips in ephemera like the Caddyshack clip of Bishop Fredโ€™s โ€œgreatest game of my life!โ€ in which Bill Murray says, “I don’t think the heavy stuff’s gonna come down for a while.”

By the time Jimi Hendrixโ€™s โ€œThe Wind Cries Maryโ€ ushers this episode into the hereafter, Broussard has completed a compelling musical reconstruction of what experiencing the storm felt like in real time โ€” to him, surely, but perhaps his listeners as well: a kaleidoscope of emotions, moods and reactions. The only difference is the actual storm lasted a lot longer than 80 minutes. (Now seems like a good time to mention the Houston Press gave A Day In the Life a 2016 Best of Houston award for, well, Best Podcast.)

Relatively early on, the music fades and Broussard brings up the Doorsโ€™ โ€œRiders On the Stormโ€ in the background. He begins describing what heโ€™s been seeing on TV. โ€œPeople in boats are out in flooded neighborhoods, rescuing families and people throughout the city. Itโ€™s humbling to see; it really is,โ€ he says. โ€œIโ€™ve always been really proud to be a Houstonian, but what Iโ€™m seeing in regards to those in need from people capable of helping makes me so proud of this city. Itโ€™s really something.โ€

It really was. Harvey may be done with Houston now, thank God, but Broussard still has more to say on the subject. Heโ€™s already planning episode 60, a continuation of โ€œHarveyโ€ he figures will start with the tribute song Coldplay wrote for Houston, move on to new music by Bill Withers and JD McPherson, go into his post-hurricane visit to his folks in the Golden Triangle (theyโ€™re okay) and maybe slip in a song or two he wasnโ€™t able to squeeze into โ€œHarvey,โ€ something like Tom Waitsโ€™s โ€œRains On Meโ€ or Willie Nelsonโ€™s version of โ€œRainy Day Blues.โ€

Heโ€™s hoping itโ€™ll be online by Monday.

Listen to “Harvey” and Broussard’s previous 58 chapters at adayinthelifepodcast.com.

Chris Gray is the former Music Editor for the Houston Press.