A twisting path through Austin’s underground music scene in the twentieth century’s last decade, narrated by the people who were there. It’s 1990 in Austin, Texas. The next decade will be a tipping point in the city's metamorphosis from sleepy college town to major city. Beneath the increasingly slick exterior, though, a group of like-minded contrarians were reimagining an underground music scene. Embracing a do-it-yourself ethos, record labels emerged to release local music, zines cheered and jeered acts beneath the radar of mainstream media outlets, and upstart clubs provided a home venue for new bands to build their sound. This vibrant scene valued expression over erudition, from the razor-sharp songcraft of Spoon to the fuzzed-out poptones of Sixteen Deluxe, and blurred the boundaries between observer and participant. Evolving in tandem with the city’s emergence on the national stage via the film Slacker and the SXSW conference and festivals, Austin’s musical underground became a spiritual crucible for the uneasy balance between commercial success and cultural authenticity, a tension that still resonates today. The first book about Austin underground music in the ’90s, A Curious Mix of People is an oral history that tells the story of this transformative decade through the eyes of the musicians, writers, DJs, club owners, record-store employees, and other key figures who were there.
When I moved to Austin, TX in 2016 for grad school, I did so for grad school and the vague idea it was a "cool" city. I didn't even know UT had a football team or the phrase "Keep Austin Weird." Once I decided I wanted to live here long-term, I devoured so many books about Austin to understand the city including "Austin to ATX," "Weird City," and "God Save Texas." The more I learned, the less so I thought Austin was "weird" and more just... I dunno, off beat mixed with classic counterculture 60's scene.
But, A Curious Mix of People, reaffirmed to me that what people simply saw as "weird" was a thriving underground DIY scene of energetic people wanting to make the world they wanted to live in, in Austin. Read this book to learn more about the "Slackers" of Austin, you know those silly little freaks who didn't want to put their energy towards work/career, but towards music, culture, creative pursuits, and having fun with their friends. You know, weirdos.
I’ve always said that nostalgia and Austin are not good bedfellows, but who says all bedfellows have to be good?
The book is an exhaustive romp through the local music scene in Austin in the 1990’s. Each chapter is dedicated to a specific element of the scene (e.g. local radio, record stores, Emo’s, Liberty Lunch, etc). The first part of each chapter is journalistic prose, and the second half is a series of interviews with the various cast of characters involved at that time.
The book ends with what is mostly a lamentation of the death of Austin underground music in 1999, a well-worn sentiment of Austin’s long-timers. As someone who moved here in 2001 as a 22 year old, I can recall the tail end of this era, so this book is a fun walk down memory lane. I’d disagree that everything died in 1999. Things change, some for the good and some for the bad, and in this city…they change really fast. Check your nostalgia at the door.
This book is made great by the transcribed oral histories included from those who were there making the history. Cheers to all involved. One of my favorite quotes is from Carl Normal of Stretford, "It may not pay off any further than a lot of good memories, but I don't think I'd have done it any differently. With about five exceptions." Haha!
Exceeded expectations and so effectively evoked so many memories of seeing Ed Hall, Crust, Sincola, Jesus Christ Superfly, Fuckemos, The Motards (when I first moved to Austin after college in August '94 I worked a salsa festival with some of them and we all got kinda wasted), Pork, Drums and Tuba, the Inhalants and so many other bands I remember seeing on posters and probably saw but don't remember seeing necessarily 28 years later (Stretford is a band I remember always hearing about but don't remember ever seeing and totally forgot about until I read this book).
So very grateful this book brought back memories of the bathroom at Emo's . . . like a destroyed shed covered in graffiti and stickers and torn posters, standing in an inch of blackened piss, distorted churning guitars and droning bass in the background, wasted kinda scary dudes all around, many on more serious drugs than I ever did. I definitely never fully connected with the scene or knew any of these people interviewed but I loved the book. It's really well put together, with a three- or four-page introduction followed by a pleasant polyphonic stream of interview excerpts that cohere and tell a story really well, organized by venues, radio stations, zines, record labels, the Sound Exchange, where I bought the Hey Drag City compilation and first heard The Palace Brothers and Smog right before I left town.
Great details throughout, off-hand comments that crystalize everything, like a Sound Exchange employee explaining how they were grumpy because they were the ones who were offered Steely Dan cassettes scrounged off car floors by guys who'd been up all night, desperate for cash to get some more of whatever they were on and the record store employees were the ones who had to tell them no. Absolutely perfect bits like that make this oral history so good.
I got this because for some reason I was trying to find a video of Spoon playing "My Sharona" at the Hole in the Wall -- I definitely saw them play "My Sharona" there once or twice. The blond singer with the sunglasses had a thing for my neighbor and I'd met him one time right outside my apartment. I remembered a blond female bass player but all the pics I found online of Spoon from 1995 or so were all men, but then I somehow found this book, ordered, opened it, and there was a picture of Andy McGuire, the blond bass player for Spoon, just as I'd remembered.
I worked at Ruby's BBQ from Sept '94 to Sept '95. I was twenty two, lived at 43rd and Duval with a roommate in an apartment complex with a pool for ~$300 a month each. Started as a prep cook at Ruby's making $4.75 and ending at $6.50 or so, plus a meal, a drink, and tip money, which I spent nearly nightly at the Crown & Anchor, Lovejoy's, the Hole in the Wall, Emo's, or sometimes at Antone's (Ruby's staff were let in free). Had nearly no money but also super-limited expenses -- no car, no TV, no cable bill, no iPhone or internet bill, no streaming services, no subscriptions etc.
I'd moved down there after playing in bands in college, hoping to form a band and conquer the world (joking) -- wound up working at Ruby's and biking over to open mics at the Austin Outhouse fairly regularly, solo acoustic style, recorded a demo tape I gave to a barbecue colleague who worked at the Hole in the Wall to give to the booking person there (who's interviewed in this) but I quickly got frustrated with everything thanks to extreme early twenties restlessness (also no car to drive around the amp I didn't have to play with like-minded musicians I didn't yet know etc) and became more interested in reading and writing and wound up saving cash to travel for a few months by bus from Austin to Costa Rica and back, writing all the time.
I definitely wasn't into garage punk or crazy Texan psych-punk etc and really to be honest there were only a handful of truly memorable music experiences that year I lived there -- Stereolab for free in Aug ‘94 at Emo's; Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 for $2 at Emo's in Aug '95 right before I left for Central America; Boss Hog in Dec '95 right around when I came back before leaving for good; Maceo Parker with Fred Wesley at Antone's in Aug '95; The Flaming Lips in May '95 at Liberty Lunch; my BBQ colleague Trevor's crazy scrappy Beefheart-ish band Wonder Whip at the Blue Flamingo; Space Streakings, an incredibly fast Japanese band, just bass and turntable and drum machines and a "singer" who blasted a horn connected to an air compressor or something and ran through the crowd at Emo's, detonating it, knocking every one around it to their knees. Maybe the best local band I saw was like a cross between Squeeze, Mission of Burma, and Polvo or something, a quartet of guys in their mid-thirties, playing to a handful of people -- their wives and children and a few friends and me and the bartender -- on what may have been a Sunday afternoon at the Hole in the Wall. They were dauntingly good but I'm not sure if they even had a name. I wonder who they were?
Listening to a lot of these bands via my preferred streaming service, the Fuckemos remind me of what I'd liked about the Repo Man Soundtrack when I was in high school, and they really evoke the sound of that time for me, but so many of the bands (Sixteen Deluxe - I remember slowly biking by a line outside the Hole in the Wall for one of their shows on a chilly misty night) seem to fuse My Bloody Valentine, Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, Pixies, etc. Listening to them now I don't really feel like my lack of enthusiasm for most of what I saw was unfair but that doesn't mean it wasn't fun to be young and biking around and drinking cheap beer and seeing live loud music nearly every night.
Haven't been back to Austin since '97. Heard it's changed somewhat . . .
This book was everything I wanted it to be! Having been apart of the music scene in the 90’s - it captured the love, insanity and wackiness of the decade. Read it for the history and wild tales that make Austin weird. Kudos to Beets, Whymark & Pena for capturing the magic of the times.
This book is an emotional, nostalgic, and electric tribute to a pivotal moment in Austin’s cultural history. A Curious Mix of People captures the heart and soul of the city’s underground music scene in the ’90s through the raw, honest voices of the people who lived it. You can feel the passion in every recollection—from the late-night gigs in dive bars to the grind of building something real without corporate backing. It’s more than a history book; it’s a love letter to a time when music, rebellion, and community came together to create something unforgettable.
What makes this book so special is how deeply personal it feels. You’re not just reading about events—you’re experiencing them through the stories of musicians, DJs, writers, and club owners who poured their hearts into shaping a scene that was as messy as it was magical. The tension between art and commerce, the rise of iconic bands, the DIY ethos—it all unfolds with a vividness that makes you wish you’d been there. I absolutely loved this book. It’s a moving and necessary read for anyone who loves music, community, or the spirit of Austin itself.
I attended UT Law School from 88-91, worked as a DJ at KTSB from 90 to 91, worked a stint as a stage manager for SXSW, and have crossed paths with a number of people interviewed for this book. Without question, this book is a must-read for anyone with a passing interest in Austin or Texas punk rock. Greg Beets and company do a fantastic job of laying out the incestuous interplay between the bands, the venues, the studios, the labels, and the stores. Usually in books of this kind, there is a tradeoff between excellent writing and excellent stories. The better the writing, the drier the content. Not here. "A Curious Mix of People" devotes chapters to the major clubs, stores, labels, studios, and media of Austin in the 1990's. After a fairly succinct summary at the start of the chapter, the narrative is carried by the memories of the participants, which are surprisingly detailed and vivid. Given the number of mentions in this book, I think I am gonna have to dig out that first Pork single and give it another listen.
Shouldn’t have taken me so long to finish, but it has been a busy couple of months.
That said, I really enjoyed this book.
As an Austinite who hangs out (albeit on the periphery) in the current punk/metal/alt/underground scene, it’s really cool to see what came before. I know some of the people in this book. I’ve been to some of the places that lasted long enough to offer me a chance to visit.
All in all, I felt this book gave me a deeper connection to the city I’ve now spent half my life in, and I thank the authors for that.
As someone who grew up in Central Texas in the 1990s, I really enjoyed this walk down memory lane of places, people, and bands I had (almost) forgotten. I only give it 3 stars, though, because I feel like this book would not be that interesting to those who were not part of the scene in some way.
A highly entertaining and compelling walk through the underground music scene of 90's Austin - a special time and place populated by an amazing community of misfits.