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- [00:02]
Jake Brennan
This is exactly right. Double Elvis
- [00:14]
Podcast Advertiser 1
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- [01:00]
Podcast Advertiser 2
Support is available 24.
- [01:02]
Jake Brennan
7 with VRBoCare. We're here day or night, ready whenever you need help because a great trip
- [01:10]
Podcast Advertiser 2
starts with the right support.
- [01:14]
Podcast Advertiser 3
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- [01:46]
Jake Brennan
Disgraceland is a production of Double Elv. This is a story about a giant, a guitar God who I think was actually better than God. Not the real God, the other one. You'll hear what I mean in a minute. And this is a story about cocaine and booze and blues. And of course it's about a fiery crash because this is a story about Stevie Ray Vaughan, one of the absolute greatest to ever do it. A man who of course made great music. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show. That wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my melotron called Liquid Yayo MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to let's Dance by David Bowie. And why would I play you that specific slice of serious moonlight cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on May 21, 1983. A number one song that would force Stevie Ray Vaughan to make a choice. Be a star in someone else's universe or be a God on his own. On this episode, Guitar Gods boos blues, a fiery crash and one of the greatest to ever do it. Stevie Ray Vaughan. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgrace Land. Boos were now raining down from every direction. In the silence between songs, they were impossible to miss. At first there was polite applause and then awkward silence until the hecklers started up way in the back of the theater. Turn it down. Soon others were joining in. Get him off the stage. But with every song, the jeers grew louder. This wasn't bad. Bob Dylan going electric at Newport in 1965. But you might have been fooled by the reaction of the blues purists in the crowd. This was Stevie Ray Vaughan in Double Trouble at the Montreux Jazz Festival in 1982. The world famous festival in Switzerland was hosting Jackson Brown, Talking Heads, Dizzy Gillespie and B.B. king that year, as well as Stevie Ray Vaughan's virtually unknown Texas Trio. They were there because Jerry Wexler, a guy who produced your favorite Aretha Franklin songs and signed Led Zeppelin to their first contract. That Jerry Wexler vouched for the band personally with festival bookers after he saw them blow the roof off of Austin's Continental Club. So when Stevie Ray Vaughan and his longtime Double Trouble rhythm section of Tommy Shannon on bass and Chris Layton on drums showed up in Switzerland, they did what they always did, which was plug in, turn up the amps and play the meanest, dirtiest, loudest Texas boogie that anyone had ever heard. And if there was any money, at the end of the night, they split it up three ways and do it again the next night. To get the sound right, they needed volume. They needed it. Lots of it. Because Stevie Ray Vaughan was no normal guitar player. He was short, stood just five foot five, but his hands were huge. He used strings thick as power lines. I mean, massively thick strings for a massively thick tone. And he had the strength to bend them and send notes soaring into the heavens. He knew all the classic tricks he could play behind his head, behind his back. He and his older brother Jimmy even worked out a routine where they could play two parts of the same guitar at the same time. Plus, Stevie Ray Vaughan had the Flash. He had this big black gunslinger's hat, silk scarves and his weathered Fender Stratocaster guitar. Everyone knew what to expect when he walked onto the stage. Everyone, unfortunately, except for the Swiss crowd of stuffed shirts. The band stuck out like a sore thumb on a night featuring acoustic blues and traditional jazz acts. Compared with everyone else on that bill, their volume was deafening. But not as deafening as the silence when they finished their last song. Stevie Ray Vaughan, he wasn't Even mad, he was just confused. Maybe they were a bit nervous, but come on, they didn't play that bad. They took pride in working the crowd into a frenzy, but tonight they had gone over like a lead balloon. Stevie could only think of one other time that they'd been booed. It was a few months back. They booked a two night gig opening for the Clash at the Coliseum in Austin. Even though Austin was their home base, when they took the stage, they didn't recognize a single face in that crowd. And as soon as they started playing, the teenagers in black leather and safety pins were screaming, fuck you, Stevie Ray Vaughan. And Stevie Ray Vaughan had to tell Joe Strummer they weren't coming back for night two. They just weren't the right fit. And that was exactly the problem. In 1983, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble were too heavy for blues purists. But rock fans wanted new wave, and punk radio wouldn't play them, and no record label would touch a blues band. At 27 years old, Stevie Ray Vaughan was already the hottest guitar player in Texas. He'd held the title practically since he was a skinny little teenager sneaking out to tag along with his older brother Jimmy to his gigs. And Jimmy himself was considered the number one guitar player in the state, at least until his kid brother started plugging in. However, being the hottest guitar player in Texas, it didn't pay like it used to. Sure, Stevie and Double Trouble they could pack tiny sweat box clubs in the Lone Star estate, but that barely paid the bills. Outside of Texas, they had no real audience, they had no record deal, and after this disaster, they had no hope of things ever getting better. Stevie grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off his drenched face. And with the towel pressed to his eye, he didn't even hear the dressing room door open. When he lowered the towel, a thin, pale man had materialized next to him. The man wore an immaculately tailored white suit. His hair was perfect, and when he looked down at Stephie, one of his eyes was green and the other was blue. Stephie gasped as he realized he was face to face with with David Bowie. Let's grab a drink, david Bowie suggested with a devilish grin. At the Musician's bar backstage, David Bowie fawned over Stevie Ray Vaughan. He called him the best electric blues player he'd ever heard. A visionary. The crowd of mere mortals didn't get it, but he, David Bowie, knew something special when he heard it. After another drink, Bowie casually mentioned a new album. A dance record, but still, maybe Stevie could add something to it. And as the drinks kept flowing, the plan kept growing. And now David Bowie wanted Stevie Ray Vaughan in double trouble to join his world tour as the opening act. And oh yeah, Stevie would play in Bowie's backing band too. David Bowie promised to lift Stevie Ray Vaughan out of the tiny Texas clubs and onto the biggest stages in the world. All Stevie had to do was say yes, and David Bowie held out his hand and Stephie shook it eagerly before tipping back his drink. And when he put the glass down, David Bowie was already gone. As amazing as it was to sit and chat with the superstar, Stevie Ray Vaughan had heard enough offers just like this one to know that nothing would come of it. He'd probably never hear from David Bowie again, and besides, his mind was focused on redemption. The next night the band was booked into a small after hours club with an atmosphere that was more continental club and less Carnegie Hall. Back in their usual environment, they put on a barn burner of a set, wowing everyone in the crowd, including Jackson Brown. In fact, Jackson Brown was so impressed he offered to let the band record some songs at his personal studio if they ever made it out to Los Angeles. After returning to the States, the band could barely afford to get from Texas to California. The still they had scraped together a few gigs and headed West. They spent 72 hours in LA laying down 10 songs, including six of Stevie's originals, all of which were recorded live. It wasn't supposed to be an album, just some demos to help them finally land a record deal. After three days of recording in la, Stevie Ray Vaughan was just about to pass out when a phone call woke him up at 3 in the morning. And when he picked up the phone, there was a British voice on the other line. It was David Bowie and he was calling to make a deal. And any good blues man will tell you when you head down to the crossroads to dance with that devil, you unfortunately do not get to pick the song.
- [11:49]
Podcast Advertiser 1
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- [12:19]
Jake Brennan
With VRBoCare help is always ready before,
- [12:23]
Podcast Advertiser 2
during and after your stay. We've planned for the plot twists so
- [12:28]
Jake Brennan
support is always available because a great
- [12:31]
Podcast Advertiser 2
trip starts with peace of mind. May is mental health awareness month and your twenties. They can feel like a lot on the psychology of your 20s podcast we unpack the anxiety, the overthinking, the heartbreak, the identity crisis, all of it that comes with being in your 20s. Because if you've ever thought, is anybody else feeling this way? They definitely are.
- [12:56]
Jake Brennan
Awe.
- [12:57]
Podcast Advertiser 1
I feel like my 20s was a process of checking off everything that I was not good at to get to what I was good at. Oftentimes we take everything a little bit too seriously and we get lost in things that we later on decide weren't even important to us to begin with. There was a large chunk of my twenties that I like was just so wanting to be out of that phase, out of my skin, and I just like really regret not living in the present more each week.
- [13:22]
Podcast Advertiser 2
We break down the science behind what you're going through and give you real tools to navigate it. Your 20s aren't about having it all figured out. They're about understanding yourself just a little bit better. Listen to the psychology of your 20s on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
- [13:45]
Jake Brennan
It was hard to tell because the car was moving so fast, but this was in fact God himself behind the wheel of the Ferrari 365 weaving through humanity in the heavy South London traffic. God pulled the wheel hard to the right as the tires chirped in protest and he flew past a line of slow moving cars before he finally found an open stretch of road and mashed the accelerator. The car shot forward with a force it would have crushed any normal human, but ever since he'd gotten clean, God craved the adrenaline rush of fast cars and loud music. Speaking of which, God leaned forward and jerked the volume knob to the right and the radio was tuned to a top 40 station. And it wasn't exactly God's music. A funky bass line throbbed from the speakers. Tight guitar stabs loaded with echo played over it like a Nile Rogers riff. Actually, maybe it was an Isla Rogers riff. Even if it wasn't his cup of tea, God couldn't deny it. The song grooved hard and then he heard a sound that tore through the car like a lightning bolt. A single stinging note that sent shivers up his spine. God knew he had to drop everything and find out who the hell this guitar player was. Okay, so in 1983, Eric Clapton was a little past his Clapton as God prime. But he was definitely still on most people's Mount Olympus of guitar gods, even if he wasn't on mine. And as a so called guitar God, Eric Clapton had the power to recognize a fellow deity from a single spine tingling note. And he knew what it meant. It meant that he was about to drop everything to find out who the hell was playing lead guitar on David Bowie's Let's Dance. Because it had been a while since anyone had sent a shiver like this up his spine. Siz Clapton heard Duane Allman playing in the background of a 1969 Wilson Pickett album, V Specific, and Duane stepped out of the background and shot to stardom before he died in a fiery motorcycle accident in 1971. Ever since then, there had been a giant vacancy at the peak of Mount Olympus. Of the guitar gods. Mount Olympus, that is. And at least Eric Clapton figured as he turned the car back toward into town, that vacancy was empty. But right about now, it sure sounded like it might be filled. By the time his guitar playing was making its way to God's ears in London, Stevie Ray Vaughan was in Dallas, contemplating a deal with the devil. On April 30, he was camped out in a Dallas hotel room, preparing for rehearsals with Bowie's band when his brother Jimmy called with some news. It was the kind of news that required a cold shot. Muddy Waters was dead. As Stevie tossed one back for the blues legend, his mind wandered back to his options. On the one hand, after years of struggling, he was suddenly featured on the hottest song of the year. He was rehearsing with a killer band for the biggest tour in the world, and the hype was bigger than anything he'd ever seen. And thanks to that hype, Stevie Ray Vaughan, in double trouble, who he insisted get full billing in his contract, finally landed a record deal, and the demos turned out to be good enough for Epic Records to release them untouched. And the album was coming out in just a few weeks to coincide with the start of David Bowie's serious Moonlight tour. Then that was the rub. Stevie Ray Vaughan wouldn't be playing shows to support his own debut album. Instead, he'd be playing on a David Bowie tour. And a David Bowie tour was all about, well, David Bowie. The musicians in the band were cool. Stevie liked jamming on China Girl and the Gene Genie, but what the fuck was he gonna play on songs like Life on Mars or Space Oddity? Plus, David Bowie's big plans for Stevie were growing smaller by the day. First it was the opening slot for the whole tour, but then it got reduced down to just opening shows in America, and then further reduced to just opening shows in the South. And then it just got to be that they were only opening for David Bowie for two shows in Texas. David Bowie's PR team suddenly didn't want to help promote Stevie Ray Vaughan. They made him agree to not talk about his own music in interviews. It was ridiculous. And the whole thing made Stevie laugh. He looked at a Stratocaster leaning against the hotel bed. All he did for David Bowie was spray some Albert King licks all over a few tracks. It wasn't any big deal. He'd been doing that since he was a teenager. Back in the 1970s, when Albert King pushed open the door to Antones, one of the best blues clubs in Austin, Stevie Ray Vaughan's eyes went wide. Albert King was Stevie's favorite guitar player. But he was more than that. He was a blues giant. He was also like a real giant. Albert King was easily a foot taller than Stevie. He weighed close to 300 lbs. On stage. His Gibson Flying V guitar looked like a toothpick in his hands. Albert King was a lefty, so he played the guitar on the opposite side of his body, just as Jimi Hendrix did. But unlike Jimi, he also played it upside down, with the high strings on the top of the neck and the low strings on the bottom. Albert King had managed to survive three decades in this business because he did everything himself. He didn't trust his career to anybody. He drove his own tour bus because while other people used house bands, Albert didn't trust whatever half assed collection of local players that a club owner at a place like Antone's might cobble together. So it didn't matter that the house band in question tonight was Jimmy Vaughn's group, the Fabulous Thunderbirds. They weren't even going to sniff the stage when Albert King got up there. What Albert King hated even more than those house bands was the wannabe white boy lead guitar players who were always sniffing around his sets, always trying to sit in, always talking about how great they were and they could run their mouths. But none of them could ever hang with Albert King. Stevie Ray Vaughan knew all that. But he also knew how many thousands of times he dropped the needle on an Albert King riff and played along until he got every detail perfect. So he begged Clifford Antonella, the club's owner, to try to get him on stage with Albert. And then he saw the first set. And when the band kicked in, Albert played sweet. And then he played hard. He made the guitar swing, he made the guitar scream. And he absolutely tore the roof off of Antones. Suddenly, Stevie Ray Vaughan was shaking in his boots. He was thinking about slipping out the back door. When Clifford tapped him on the shoulder, he muttered in Stevie's ear that Albert King wasn't Too happy about it. But he said if Stephie wanted to get humiliated, he could come take his shot. Stevie pulled his Fender Stratocaster out of its case. And lately his guitar was feeling like an extension of his own body. He was in love. He'd even named the guitar First Wife. But those feelings of love disappeared when he crawled on stage. Albert King was staring at him like he was about to cut him to pieces with his guitar playing. And the band launched into a Latin groove. And Albert let loose a fiery lick just to warm up. Stevie held his breath and answered with a couple Albert King licks of his own. And the older man raised his eyebrows. And then he upped the ante with an avalanche of lightning fast notes. Stevie gave it right back and then it was on. The two were going back and forth. It was like a back alley knife fight on stage. Stevie Ray Vaughan wasn't shaking in his boots anymore. He was holding his own. And as the song ended, Albert King turned away from him. But Stephie saw a crack of a small smile. That was the night that Stevie Ray Vaughan first felt it. Like he had passed a test. Like he had been accepted into the brotherhood of the blues. Soon everyone, from Buddy Guy to Muddy Waters was showing him their riffs, their tricks of the trade. The masters taught Stevie Ray Vaughan how to bring the blues to life. They taught him how to live the life, too. First it was white crosses washed down with malt liquor to stay up all night. But by 1979, Steve Ray Vaughan had moved up to Crown Royal in cocaine. One night that year, Stevie Ray Vaughan went backstage after opening for Muddy Waters. He snorted a line of cocaine just as an off duty cop happened to be walking by a window nearby. The next thing he knew, he was getting hauled off in handcuffs, right near a surprise Muddy Waters, who was just about to go on stage. Stevie was back the next morning, and Muddy didn't give him a hard time about it. But he told Stevie to watch himself. Thinking about Muddy Waters brought a tear to Stevie Ray Vaughan's eye and a reminder of the news that a great one was gone. He dumped a baggie of cocaine into his glass and filled it with Crown Royal. Stevie knew he wasn't going to make it to rehearsal tonight. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was ever going back to Bowie again. He wasn't meant to be a sideman, even for a superstar like Ziggy Stardust. He raised the glass for Muddy. He could still see the powder swirling around inside. And then he knocked it back. Stevie Ray Vaughan was going to play the blues and he was going to live the life for better or for worse.
- [23:17]
Podcast Advertiser 3
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- [23:54]
Jake Brennan
Discover Top Rated Stays Loved by Guests Rated Highest by Real Guests through authentic
- [24:01]
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Reviews Verbo Book a vacation Rental Loved by Guests May is Mental Health Awareness Month and your twenties they can feel like a Lot on the psychology of your 20s podcast we unpack the anxiety, the overthinking, the heartbreak, the identity crisis. All of it that comes with being in your 20s. Because if you've ever thought, is anybody else feeling this way? They definitely are.
- [24:30]
Podcast Advertiser 1
I feel like my 20s was a process of checking off everything that I was not good at to get to what I was good at. Oftentimes we take everything a little bit too seriously and we get lost in things that we later on decide weren't even important to us to begin with. There was a large chunk of my twenties that I like was just so wanting to like be out of that phase out of my skin. And I just like really regret not living in the present more each week.
- [24:56]
Podcast Advertiser 2
We break down the science behind what you're going through and give you real tools to navigate it. Your 20s aren't about having it all figured out. They're about understanding yourself just a little bit better. Listen to the psychology of your 20s on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
- [25:16]
Jake Brennan
The air was hot and sticky even at 11pm as Stevie Ray Vaughan slid out of the back of a black limousine. Cameras flashed from every direction as he leaned against the silver walking stick and adjusted his dark sunglasses. He walked past the photographers and fans gathered outside the Hard Rock Cafe, and he was immediately swept into the building by a handler. The handler tried to direct him to a back table where the Hard Rock Cafe's owner, Iser Tigre, was chatting with Dan Aykroyd and some of his investors, but Stevie ignored his minder and headed straight for the bar. He managed to get a double crown on the rocks before he was pulled away and towards the back table. Stevie knew he would need Liquid Fortification for this. And just a few hours ago, his band had bombed on stage at Dallas's Starfest. And now the last place he wanted to be was at this stupid party in a glorified gift shop. It had been three years since Stevie Ray Vaughan left David Bowie's tour and his debut album, Texas Flood, became an instant sensation. It turned out that quitting the tour was great publicity. It gave him a rebellious image that played perfectly with the music. And suddenly rock radio wasn't so afraid to play his music. Even MTV put the band's video for Pride and Joy in heavy rotation. But follow up hits were harder to come by. And after years of living the life, Stevie Ray Vaughan was finally starting to to show it on stage. He drifted off into long, meandering jams that he couldn't get out of. He played songs in the wrong key or at the wrong tempo. And now if people booed, it felt like they had a right to. There were very few things that could have dragged Stevie out of his hotel room that night, but one of those things was a guitar. And not just any guitar. A rare black Gibson Flying V that had been owned by Jimi Hendrix. So Isaac Tigrett, the owner of Hard Rock Cafe, had promised Stevie that if he would make an appearance at this VIP event, then he would let him check out Jimmy's guitar. And now, drink in hand, Stevie stumbled over to the circle where Isaac was holding court. Isaac tried to bring Stevie into the circle, but Stevie demanded to see the guitar first, and Isaac laughed and motioned to an assistant. And a few minutes later they walked up with a brown guitar case and handed it to Stevie. His heart was hammering, and not just from the cocaine. Stevie could feel the mojo coming off of the instrument before he even opened the case. He flipped open the latches and lifted the left handed guitar out of the case and flipped it upside down and backwards like a reverse image of his mentor, Albert King. Then he started picking up the Hendrix song Little Wing. Isaac smiled and leaned in close next to Stevie as a photographer snapped a handful of pictures. But Stevie didn't even notice. He just played on Lost in His Own World. But while Stevie was playing, he heard Isaac mention something about taking the guitar for a session sometime. But with cocaine and Jimi Hendrix on his brain, all Stevie Ray Vaughan heard was take the guitar. Yeah, that sounds great, Stevie replied to Isaac. And then he asked for the case and they could just pop the guitar in there and then Stephie would be on his way. He watched as the smile melted off of Isaac's face. And as the assistant reached for the guitar, Stephie tightened his grip on him. Isaac tried to explain he only meant that Stevie could borrow the guitar at some point in the future. Stevie thought about making a run for it, but quickly realized it was hopeless. Finally, he shoved the guitar into Isaac's hands. And he swore at the crowd of onlookers who were staring at him, knocked over a tray of drinks and stormed out the front door. It was 1986, and Stevie Ray Vaughan was in such bad shape that he was losing touch with reality. Even fellow blues men were starting to notice. Buddy Guy pleaded with them to slow down. Albert King said a drink or a snort at home was fine, but the gig was no place to get high. Nothing worked. Even the voice of God didn't affect Stevie. Eric Clapton finally caught up with Stevie Ray Vaughan in a hotel while they were both on tour in Australia. Stephie was pouring shots down his throat with shaky hands and jabbering like a crazy person. Sadly, Eric Clapton just patted him on the back and said he hoped Stephie would make it through that fall in Germany. He almost didn't. Stevie Ray Vaughan and his bandmate Tommy Shannon went out on a Sunday night looking for an after show drink. And every place was closed. So they kept walking further. But the more they walked, the more Stevie's stomach started killing him. He figured he just needed a drink to straighten himself out. But then he started puking up blood. And the next thing he knew, he was somehow back in his hotel. Blood and vomit were covering his chest. Tommy was screaming in English while three men were screaming back in German. And Stephie didn't know what the fuck was happening. Until one of them finally stuck an IV in his arm and they rushed him to the hospital. There, the doctors found the cause of the blood. An ulcer caused by years of drinking cocaine. Stephie was almost suffering from near fatal levels of dehydration. And this brush with death was enough to convince Stevie Von that things had to change. For so many years, he'd been all about playing the blues and living the life. But it was becoming impossible to do both. So he would have to choose. And when Stevie Ray Vaughan checked into rehab, no one expected it to stick. Not his bandmates, not his crew, not even his brother. But he surprised everyone by attacking sobriety with the same passion he tackled Albert King records with as a teenager. After his 40 days in rehab, Stevie Ray Vaughan dove into Alcoholics Anonymous. It became his new ritual on tour. Instead of roaming town looking to score drugs, he would find the hookup for AA meetings. And with his head clear and his body clean, his playing returned to form. And he was finally able to step fully into his own sound on songs like Crossfire, which blended soulful horns with great rhythm and blues in Stevie's signature searing guitar work. It was still the blues, but it sounded completely modern. The song became his first to top the rock charts offstage. His new way of living the life was inspiring other musicians, too. First his bandmates got clean. Then stars like Bonnie Raitt and even Eric Clapton, who, after four years clean, had relapsed himself. And maybe that's why Eric Clapton was thinking about Stevie Ray Vaughan when he was looking for an opener for a pair of shows in the summer of 1990. They're at a gorgeous venue called Alpine Valley in Wisconsin. It had a great sound system and could hold over 30,000 fans. The only problem with the place was that it was only one road in and one road out. Most bands headed north or just waited the four or five hours it took place. The crowd to clear up, and of course, some adrenaline junkies like to fly. A helicopter could make it to downtown Chicago in less than an hour. And the Allman Brothers Band refused to do it. They thought it was too dangerous. But Eric Clapton loved the rush, and he bet that Stevie Ray Vaughan would love the view. Stevie Ray Vaughan pulled on his guitar string and sent the notes soaring into the heavens. The guitar felt like an extension of his body as he played with every bit of fire and passion left inside of him. It had been an exhausting evening, but he didn't want it to end. Here he was standing on the summit of Mount Olympus with some incredible guitar gods. And there was Robert Cray looking regal and black and gold. Stevie's old friend Buddy Guy wailing on his signature black and white polka dot Stratocaster. And Stevie's brother Jimmy was by his side. And of course, Eric Clapton, the man who was hosting this Olympic level jam, he was there too. And they had already been playing the blues classic Sweet Home Chicago for close to 20 minutes. But Stevie felt like he could go all night these days. It wasn't the pills or the powder or the booze that were energizing him. It was nothing but just the music. Blues music. When the song ended, Stevie Ray Vaughan stood there an extra few minutes while everyone else shuffled off into the wings like he was trying to soak up every last bit of the night. Later, he was supposed to take the bus back to Chicago after the show. And that meant he wouldn't arrive until around 4am and it was a busy travel day ahead after that. Eric Clapton had chartered three helicopters to take him and his crew back to Chicago after the show, and when a spot opened up in one of them at the last minute, he offered it to Stevie. Stevie Ray Vaughan never thought twice about it. The extra hours of sleep sounded great, so he hugged his brother and jumped into the chopper. And as they lifted off away from the crowds, the lights of the parking lot were blinding. Fog was rolling in from the Great Lakes, but no one was worried. They just needed to clear a single hill, and then the lights of downtown Chicago would come rushing into view. The pilot said they would see those lights in 15 minutes max. Steve Ray Vaughan's eyes felt blurry from the fog and lights. He tried to look out the window, but was it? But his eyes hadn't adjusted yet. All he could see was blackness. And as the helicopter climbed upward, what neither he nor the pilot nor anyone on board knew was that the craft was slipping just a tiny bit off course. The pilot had made this trip dozens of times, but he was used to flying in the daytime, used to using his eyes rather than his instruments to help him stay on course. So the the pilot never noticed. As the helicopter drifted closer and closer to an oncoming hill, and just moments before the lights of downtown Chicago were supposed to come rushing into view, the helicopter exploded into a giant fireball. Stevie Ray Vaughan and everyone else on board were killed instantly. After his tragic death, Stevie Ray Vaughan's legacy only continued to grow. There were tribute concerts and posthumous album releases, and within a few years the Hard Rock Cafe in Austin even bought one of his guitars and encased it in glass and stuck it on the wall next to one of Jimi Hendrix's guitars. The guitar hung there for years, undisturbed until 2001. That's when a hardcore band called the Icarus Line launched into a chaotic live set at the Hard Rock Cafe during the south by Southwest Music Festival. The band crushed it, and the crowd went berserk. Security was screaming at them, though, to turn the volume down, and as the set reached its climax, Aaron North, Icarus Line's guitar player, launched his mic stand like a javelin through the glass surrounding Stevie Ray Vaughan's Fender Stratocaster. Aaron north then snatched Stevie's guitar off the wall, plugged it in in the middle of his set, and attempted to start playing it before he was tackled by security, nearly starting a riot in the process. Because in Texas you don't fuck with Stevie Ray Vaughan and you don't fuck with his guitars. Not in the Hard Rock Cafe, anyway. In the Lone Star State, Stevie Ray Vaughan is considered a deity, not to mention the best guitar player of all time. The guy at the top of the Mount Olympus of guitar gods. You don't bust open a glass case, grab Stevie Ray's guitar, plug it in during your set, and start rocking out with it like it's nobody's business but your own. Unless, of course, you have balls as big as Aaron north from the Icarus line. And personally, I'm telling you this story because I think Stevie Ray Vaughan would have appreciated the move. He would have understood it, even if the security guards at the Hard Rock Cafe and the locals didn't. But we can't ask Stevie Ray Vaughan that. We can't ask Stevie Ray Vaughan anything, because Steve Ray Vaughan was killed in a helicopter crash on August 27, 1990, as he was making some of the best music of his life. He was dead at just 35 years old. And that is a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgrace. All right, guys, thanks for checking out this episode of Disgraceland. Listen, the question of the week this week, because we're talking about Stevie Ray Vaughan, obviously, who is on your Mount Rushmore of guitarist. You can only pick four, okay? And if Poison Ivy from the Cramps isn't on that list, I don't know what to tell you, but get at me. 617-906-6638. Leave a voicemail, send me a text. Let me know who's on your Mount Rushmore of guitar players. All right, you can also hit me up. Disgracelandpod on the socials. Disgracelandpodgmail.com you want to email me again? 617-906-6638 voicemail and text. Here comes some credits. Disgraceland was created by Yuri's Truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis, the Exactly Right Network, and Iheart Podcasts. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page@gracelandpod.com if you're listening, as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to Disgracelandpod.com membership. Members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland ad free rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Facebook at Disgraceland pod and on YouTube at YouTube. Com @gracelandpod. Rocka Rolla
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