Jerry Jeff Walker

In the world of Texas singer/songwriters -- a clan including such idiosyncratic mavericks as Townes Van Zandt, Billy Joe Shaver, and Joe Ely -- few names loom as large as Jerry Jeff Walker. Along with Willie Nelson, Walker was one of the key players on the progressive country scene that sprang up in Austin in the early '70s, and he remains one of the state's most popular musical ambassadors with both old-timers and college kids alike, as well as a major influence on scores of latter-day Texas songwriters and performers. The fact that Walker -- born Ronald Clyde Crosby -- is a native New Yorker who borrowed many of his best-loved songs ("L.A. Freeway," "Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother") from other writers has hampered his Lone Star cred not a whit.

Walker's earliest recordings with the New York–based (but Texas-formed) psychedelic folk band Circus Maximus -- 1967's Circus Maximus and 1968's Never Land Revisited (out of print) -- offer little hint of what was to come, but by 1968's Mr. Bojangles, the template for his career was set, four years before he even settled in Austin. Comprised entirely of Walker originals reminiscent of Bob Dylan by way of Ramblin' Jack Elliot, Mr. Bojangles features his definitive version of the title track, later covered by both the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Sammy Davis Jr. Driftin' Way of Life was just as strong, as was his self-titled debut for MCA in 1972. Jerry Jeff Walker (out of print) marked his first invigorating dip into Texan Guy Clark's songwriting well, surfacing with fine versions of "That Old Time Feeling" and "L.A. Freeway." While technically not much more of a singer than Clark -- both performers sing-speak in the kind of dry rasp generally deemed unfit for country radio -- Walker turns Clark's understated song about getting the hell out of Los Angeles (featured on The Best Of and The Ultimate Collection) into a rousing battle cry. The stage was set for Viva Terlingua, a hybrid studio/live album recorded in the sleepy town of Luckenbach (later immortalized in song by Waylon and Willie) that captured both Walker in peak form and the freewillin' spirit of the progressive country movement at its apex. Featuring Clark's "Desperados Waiting for the Train," Walker's own "Sangria Wine," Gary P. Nunn's "London Homesick Blues," and Ray Wylie Hubbard's "Up Against the Wall" (the slyest ironic "tribute" to the American redneck this side of Merle Haggard's "Okie From Muskogee"), Terlingua remains Walker's most enduring album -- and his last bona fide classic. The followup, Ridin' High, found him still doing just that, and 1977's sprawling A Man Must Carry On (another live/studio set, frustratingly split into two volumes in '97) holds myriad charms, but subsequent mid-'70s albums for MCA and Elektra (all out of print) added little to Walker's already fully formed persona as a self-styled gonzo troubadour: part tireless champion of Americana's finest underappreciated songwriters (himself included), part rabble-rousing, honky-tonk Jimmy Buffett.

Although his concerts remained rowdy crowd pleasers, Walker's independently released records from the '80s to the present find him mellowing out some. Gypsy Songman is the pick of the litter, featuring solo acoustic versions of his favorite originals, while Scamp and Gonzo Stew mark his return to songwriting after years of coasting on covers. Jerry Jeff Jazz, on the other hand, is all covers -- a remarkably pleasing and effective collection of stripped-down standards ("My Funny Valentine," "In the Wee Small Hours") that begs the question: What took Texas' most beloved carpetbagger so long in getting around to pinching inspiration from Willie's Stardust? (RICHARD SKANSE)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide