13th Floor Elevators – You're Gonna Miss Me
In Austin you can stroll into the Magnolia Café on South Congress in the middle of the night and find yourself sipping coffee alongside a genuine rock icon like Roky Erickson, leader of the 13th Floor Elevators. His 1966 regional hit You're Gonna Miss Me has taken on international cult status as the first true psychedelic rock 45: a bona-fide acid trip preserved on vinyl. Though Erickson almost lost it all as a result of the excesses of the 1960s, interest in his music has been rekindled by vocal admirers – from ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons to Okkervil River's Will Sheff and indie rock band Black Angels.
Stevie Ray Vaughan – Cold Shot
For years, Austinites didn't really notice Little Stevie – he was just another hotshot kid playing six-string in 6th Street blues bands. But when David Bowie singled out the Texas guitar slinger for his Let's Dance sessions, the world took notice. Stevie Ray Vaughan – and Austin music – would never be the same again. Cold Shot, written by members of the long-forgotten Austin blues group Triple Threat, was SRV's tip of the hat to the local scene where he cut his chops. Today, a trip to the Stevie Ray Vaughan statue overlooking Lady Bird Lake is a must: larger than life, just like his music.
Gary P Nunn – London Homesick Blues
Penned in a London hotel room, this song is often considered the de facto anthem of the Outlaw Country movement that put Austin music on the map. Indeed, London Homesick Blues was the opening song on Austin City Limits, the longest-running music show on American TV. The line in the chorus, "I wanna go home with the Armadillo", was long thought to be a reference to the world-famous Armadillo World Headquarters music hall, where the rednecks and the hippies first joined forces in the 1970s. Nunn later confessed that he wasn't even thinking of Austin when he wrote this song. But don't tell the locals. They still whoop and holler whenever it's played.
Spoon – Sister Jack
Few indie bands fall into that rarefied critical space occupied by the likes of Radiohead – but incredibly, Austin is the birthplace of just such a group. Over the years, Spoon's jagged alt-rock gelled into a thinking-person's hard rock, equal parts quirky and accessible. Though the creative metamorphosis continues (Britt Daniel's new side project, Divine Fits notwithstanding), Sister Jack from Spoon's 2005 album Gimme Fiction best captures the thrill of the ascent, bristling with guitar hooks dissolving into an electronic frenzy to a steady big rock rhythm. If there's a better song for a cruise down South Congress on a summer night with the sunroof open ... get back to me.
Alejandro Escovedo – Always a Friend
Though Alejandro is one of the kings of Americana roots music, he's a rocker at heart. On this standout track from his critically acclaimed album Real Animal, Escovedo's swagger here is one of a Texas Springsteen in rolled-up sleeves, pounding away at a Telecaster and inviting the world to sing along (indeed, The Boss invited Escovedo on stage to perform Always a Friend during a recent Houston concert and played on Alejandro's latest album). It's always a treat to catch one of Austin's premier artists burning down a place like the Continental Club, but hearing this song blasting over the loudspeakers at an airport on the other side of the world is enough to make any Austinite a little homesick – and proud.
Okkervil River – Lost Coastlines
In Austin's Red River music district, skinny jeans and ironic tees were cool way before music bloggers got obsessed with Brooklyn. Okkervil River certainly paid their dues along Red River – but their rise to national prominence owes far less to fashion than to a reputation for literate lyrics and smart pop culture references imbedded in indelible melodies. Lost Coastlines is a case in point: cosmopolitan college-town rock that's graduated to the big time … with barely a trace of a Texas accent.
Willie Nelson – Shotgun Willie
It's hard to convey what a shock it was for buttoned-down 1970s-era record company execs in Nashville to have heard the line, "Shotgun Willie sits around in his underwear". Nelson had been a mainstay of the country music world, penning classics like Crazy for the likes of Patsy Cline. But Shotgun Willie was a musical declaration of independence: Nelson grew his hair out, draped a bandanna around his head and, with a joint burning somewhere in the background, he proceeded to give the virtual finger to the country music establishment. Better yet, he did it with a gentle smile. Willie didn't just reinvent himself, he reinvented a genre of music – indeed, a whole "do your own thing" ethos that defines the Austin attitude to this day.
Grupo Fantasma – Gimme Some
Grupo Fantasma takes Tex-Mex to a whole 'nuther level, effortlessly mixing uptown Houston funk with bouncing cumbias straight outta Laredo (literally – that's where many of the band members grew up). With a roaring horn section, it's little surprise Prince brought the group into his fold as a backing band a few years back. But in Austin, Grupo commands top billing with shows that become instant cross-cultural dance parties. Brush up on your Spanglish, or just give in to the funk. Either way, you can't go wrong.
Townes Van Zandt – To Live is to Fly
Townes was not just (arguably) the last great Texas troubadour, he was the stuff legends are made of. Sharp as a razor. Perpetually inebriated. The would-be scion of a wealthy Texas family who spent most of his adult days bumming places to sleep from friends. Dead by his mid-50s, Townes's personal story casts a tragic shadow over a musical legacy that ranks right up there with that of the greatest American songwriters of the 20th century – in the words of protégé Steve Earle: "I'll stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table in my cowboy boots and say that!" Close your eyes, turn it up, and there you are 30 years ago at a joint like The Hole in the Wall – with five or six other people, slack-jawed by Townes's effortless genius.
Doug Sahm – Texas Me
The Sir Douglas Quintet was initially just a vehicle for the talents of Doug Sahm; a way for a San Antonio wunderkind to capitalise on the British Invasion. "Sir" Douglas was a long-haired dervish with a Texas drawl and an insatiable appetite for all things musical. Though he once migrated with other Texas musicians to San Francisco (joining the likes of Janis Joplin, Boz Scaggs and Steve Miller to name but three), he quickly yearned to come home. Texas Me was the anthem Sahm wrote to fill the hole - an emptiness that would eventually lead him to the place he'd spend the rest of his life. He called it "Groover's Paradise". The rest of us just call it Austin.
• David Brown is the host and executive producer of Texas Music Matters on the National Public Radio affiliate station KUT Austin
