The first time I saw him we were already on stage. He stood to one side watching us, looking exactly like you’d expect Harry Dean Stanton to look: cool and detached and wearing this elegiac tan jacket.
It was 1989, the first time Texas had toured the US. We were playing the Roxy in LA. I was 22 years old. I kept telling myself all through the gig that it might not be him. It was self-protection. I couldn’t have handled the disappointment if it hadn’t been. But I kept looking out of the corner of my eye. It’s almost 30 years on so I don’t need to be cool about this any more, but I wanted so much for him to like us.
Texas had formed three years earlier in Glasgow, and Harry Dean Stanton had been right at the front of our minds. We’d named ourselves after the film Paris, Texas which we adored and which was a huge influence on our sound and artwork. The star – the near-silent, brooding heart – is Stanton. His performance is one of the most astonishing pieces of acting I’ve ever seen.
So, to have him at our gig? I can’t tell you how thrilling that was. The moment he walked into our dressing room afterwards remains one of the most surreal of my life. He just said: “So, where are we drinking now?”
We went to the bar upstairs. It ended up being a pretty big one. I don’t remember too much of the conversation. My brain was being fried by the whole situation. He said he liked the band. He said Bob Dylan had told him about us – and when you’re 22 and one of your heroes says that, you just have to concentrate on not hyperventilating.
We stayed there a long time. He was calm and quiet, but very friendly, very hospitable. I felt like somehow – maybe because of the name and because he got what we were doing – he’d decided to take us under his wing. Like we were in his town and he wanted to look after us.
He was in his 60s by then, but he had no trouble drinking. We were supposed to drive through the night to the next city, but we ended up delaying the bus until about 4am. When we left he was still there, still at the bar, still as collected as ever. He wished us luck, and it meant a lot. It’s still difficult to pinpoint what made him so cool, but he gave the impression of a person who was both entirely genuine and entirely at home in his own skin. He was a gentleman.
It’s funny, though. Over the years, we’ve had the director, composer and lead actor of Paris, Texas all come and see us live – and it’s always special to have them there. But I keep thinking, we just need the lead actress now, Nastassja Kinski, and then we’ve got a full set.
Jump On Board, the new album by Texas, is released on 21 April
