Blaze Foley and a Van Zandt Documentary

The world of folk music is filled with sad stories. Not just the songs, but also the people who play them. You had a glimpse into the life of Townes Van Zandt in a previous post; now I want to talk a little about one of Townes’s disciples, Blaze Foley.

Foley was the kind of eccentric character who might have walked straight out of a comic strip: bushy beard, large eyebrows, cowboy boots covered in duck tape, thick Texas drawl, and emotions that could turn on a dime. He was practically homeless, living off the goodwill of his friends and fans. Towards the end of his life, he’d gotten barred from most of the respectable music clubs in Austin, Texas, and played mostly in the infamous Austin Outhouse.

photo by C. P. Vaughn, via blazefoleymovie.com

His death elevated him to mythic proportions in the Texas folk community. The story goes that on February 1, 1989, Foley was intervening in an argument between his elderly friend Concho Janurary and Carey, the friend’s son, and was shot in the chest by Carey January and died not long afterward. Blaze Foley was 39 years old. When the case went to court, Carey January pleaded self-defense and the jury agreed. January was never charged for Foley’s death, despite the fact that his own father testified against him.

Without the release of an album in his lifetime, Foley’s music was hard to hang on to. For years after his death, the only people familiar with Foley and his music were those who had known him personally and the community of singers and songwriters who admired his craft. In the past several years, however, there has been a spate of album releases largely compiled from live material and, subsequently, an explosion of interest about Foley’s music and his life.

There is also a documentary about Blaze’s life—Blaze Foley: Duct Tape Messiah (trailer here)—that has recently been touring throughout the country. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like it will be available for any kind of limited theatrical release, but it should be released to DVD and (hopefully) be available somewhere online  soon.

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While Foley has been recognized for both his political numbers and his bluesy, sardonic tunes, he is probably best known for two of the saddest songs he penned: “Clay Pigeons” and “If I Could Only Fly.” In 2000, "If I Could Only Fly" proved a hit for Merle Haggard and "Clay Pigeons" found success on John Prine's 2005 Grammy-nominated album Fair & Square.

I don’t think Foley would disagree with me if I put forward “Clay Pigeons” as his finest song. The despondent tale of a man on a Greyhound bus going nowhere, this song is sad-as-all-get-out, but absolutely beautiful.

I'm goin’ down to the Greyhound station,

Gonna get a ticket to ride,

Gonna find that lady with two or three kids

And sit down by her side.

Ride ‘til the sun comes up and down around me

‘Bout two or three times,

Smokin’ cigarettes in the last seat,

Tryin’ to hide my sorrow from the people I meet

And get along with it all.

(from “Clay Pigeons”)

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While the Blaze Foley documentary is not available anywhere on DVD or on the Internet, I recently discovered that the fabulous documentary on Townes Van Zandt, Be Here To Love Me, is available (with commercial breaks throughout) on Hulu (link below).

Even those not interested in Van Zandt or folk music would find Van Zandt’s full story compelling. Filmmaker Margaret Brown draws on family, close friends, and some notable musicians (Guy Clark, Kris Kristofferson) to tease the story out bit by bit. It’s a close look into the life of a self-destructive man who lived for art and little else. Highly recommended and beautifully put together.