This week I’ve been thinking about Augie Meyers who died March 7, 2026 at the age of 85 with his wife Sara at his side.
If you ever loved Texas music, you’ve heard him—whether you realized it or not. That Vox organ sound that rolls in like warm border wind? That’s Augie. It’s in the bones of the music. From the early days with Doug Sahm to decades of keeping that Tex-Mex soul alive, he helped build a sound that belongs to Texas the way dust belongs to boots.
His playing never felt flashy. It felt true. A swirl of conjunto, rock & roll, rhythm and blues, and cantina nights that stretched past midnight. A reminder that great music doesn’t just entertain you—it places you somewhere.
Close your eyes and you can hear it: a little San Antonio, a little border radio, a little dance hall on a hot night.
That was Augie.
Some musicians chase trends.
Some musicians become the sound of a place.
Augie Meyers was Texas.
Rest easy, sir. The groove rolls on.
On his second release Joe Thompson takes us on a journey of a man caught between two worlds – the American northeast and the southwest. His birthplace of Western Pennsylvania, his current residence of New York City and Texas, the source of his lineage (the birthplace of his parents if the narrative in Texas waltz is factual.) All play a part in the shifting landscapes of Yankee Twang, but it appears that in this struggle of geographic and identity the main source of aesthetic inspiration is the Lone Star State.