clip: Derailers
        Thu, 27 Sep 2001 08:30:14 -0500



>From the Austin American-Statesman:

http://www.austin360.com/statesman/editions/thursday/xlent_10.html

MICHAEL CORCORAN
American-Statesman Staff
Thursday, September 27, 2001

While Nashville-bashing is a popular sport among up-and-coming country
artists, you'll hear none of that from the Derailers. The Nudie-suit
wearing Buck Owens throwbacks are traditionalists who
love the way country music was, yet accept the way it is. The title of
the band's just-released fourth album, "Here Come the Derailers," has
the ring of "howdy do," with accessible songs to match.
Produced by Music Row hit-maker Kyle Lehning, the new record sounds
lusher and fuller than the quartet's previous albums, produced by roots
guru Dave Alvin.

"There'll probably be some story line in the press that we dumped Dave
and sold out to Nashville," guitarist-singer Brian Hofeldt. "But Dave's
been telling us all along that we should get a Nashville producer. He'd
say 'Y'all are a country band. You should work with someone who's
produced some country hits.' "

In Lehning, who helmed the early masterful Randy Travis albums, the
Derailers got a pair of ears attuned to vocal deftness. Guitarist Tony
Villanueva, who sings most of the leads, has never quite aired it out
like he does on a cover of Arthur Alexander's "If It's Really Gotta Be
This Way." Hofeldt's turn at the spotlight with "I See My Baby,"
conjures Roy Orbison or at least one of the Everly Brothers. If
anything, Lehning instilled confidence in the singing.

The band's major concession -- giving Lehning control over song
selection -- may have bruised some egos. On previous albums, the
material was almost entirely written by the band; here, about half the
material comes from outside writers. But Villanueva says it worked out
for the best: "One of the things Buck Owens told us is to always do the
best songs you can, no matter where they come from." Among the plums
picked was Jim Lauderdale's "All the Rage in Paris" (Texas, of course),
about a band that can't seem to break out of the honky-tonk circuit.

Although they both moved from Portland, Ore., to Austin in 1990,
Villanueva and Hofeldt exude hillbilly charm. Or at least they were
putting on a good show at a recent supper at Shady Grove. When
the waitress said corn bread wasn't on the menu, "but we have hippie
bread," Villanueva arched his thick eyebrows and drawled,  "Hippie
bread? I'll just have some crackers." Hofeldt, meanwhile, tried to make
a substitution on a side dish. "Just some kind of green vegetable --
broccoli, green beans, something like that." Pointing to the menu, he
said, "How 'bout squash? Is that the green kind or the yeller?"

Apparently, when you've listened to country music all your life, you
assume a chicken-fried accent.
"The best part of this gig is getting to know so many of our heroes,"
Villanueva says. "That's one reason why we love Nashville. We get to
hang out with guys like (legendary songwriters) Harlan Howard and Max D.
Barnes." The group has also gotten tight with their idol, Owens, who
walked up to the stage when the Derailers played his fifth annual
birthday show at the Continental in 1995. Tears welled up in Owens' eyes
when he told Hofeldt that his harmonies reminded him of his old sidekick
Don Rich. That was big, but the Derailers fulfilled the ultimate goal of
country music fandom eight months ago, when they played the Ryman
Auditorium, the original home of the Grand Ole Opry.

"We had played at the theater in Opryland a few times and (veteran pedal
steel player) Jim Webb said, 'You haven't really played the Grand Ole
Opry until you've played the Ryman'," Villanueva says.
"Boy was he ever right. It was such an honor we were practically
trembling."

When the Derailers formed 11 years ago as a duo of Villanueva and
Hofeldt, they didn't think that one day they'd be on the verge of making
country music history of their own. "Our first goal was to play the
Austin Outhouse," says Villanueva of the now-defunct venue. "We've
always made our goals attainable. If you start off thinking big, you end
up getting frustrated." And many times that frustration is taken out on
the town tagged "Nash Vegas."