The owlish glass pyramid atop Frost Tower is one of the Austin skyline’s most distinctive features, but for musician John Doe it’s also a reminder of the city’s early 1980s punk rock scene. Back then, Club Foot occupied the same corner of Fourth and Brazos streets, and it was there the bassist and co-vocalist for the Los Angeles rock band X first fell in love with Austin.
“We had a gig at Club Foot and the Big Boys opened,” Doe says, referring to the punk-funk band. “I’ve never been to Mount Rushmore, but it was like seeing something that was fully realized.” Another eye-opener for Doe was when high school marching band members snuck in the club to play horns on the song “Hollywood Swinging.” “We just thought, these are our people!”
X became the standard bearer for the Los Angeles punk scene after the release of their debut album, Los Angeles, in 1980 and Wild Gift in ’81. Doe and his bandmates were inspired by punk rock, poetry, roots rock, and film noir. Early dark-themed songs like “Johnny Hit and Run Paulene” and “Your Phone’s Off the Hook” helped define the sound of first-wave punk, and X did the revved-up rockabilly beat better than anyone else. Literate lyrics were spiked with a country twang here and an Appalachian harmony there, elements that are still front and center in the band’s ninth studio album, Smoke & Fiction, released in 2024. Today, it’s not surprising to hear a song by X on the radio sandwiched between Americana stalwarts like Willie Nelson and Patty Griffin.
With an artistic resume strongly identified with Los Angeles—he’s also an actor, with more than 50 film and television credits—it can come as a surprise to see Doe popping up at film screenings, musical events, and taco stands in Austin, where he moved with his wife, artist and designer Krissy Teegerstrom, in 2017.
TEXAS HIGHWAYS: How did you end up joining the mass migration of Californians to Austin?
JOHN DOE: Krissy and I moved to Austin to be close to friends and buy a house [laughs]. We got grandfathered in because of [Big Boys guitarist] Tim Kerr, and Krissy is a native Texan.
TH: Since you moved here, the two of you have collaborated on a line of cowboy boots sporting Krissy’s crossed-arrow logo. What’s the story there?
JD: Heritage Boot Co. does these limited-edition boots. Krissy was asked to design a boot, and they sold the s— out of them. As Krissy said, it was one of those bucket-list things that you didn’t know you wanted. Design a boot? Cool!
TH: You’ve been touring with the original X lineup almost 50 years since forming. What’s the big secret?
JD: Well, number one, don’t die [laughs]. That’s the real secret. I think as you get older, you don’t sweat the small stuff. You try to allow people to be themselves and you just take care of your own business, and you forgive and adjust. I think we’re all happy to be around and doing the same thing and bringing it—because we do. I’m not bragging; we’re just doing our thing and we’re doing the same thing, and it’s not as easy when you’re not 25.
People seemed to get the message that it was us winding down. We will be doing other shows, just not like 80 a year. Like in Albuquerque there were 1,000 people, where there would have been 500 before. So, it was good.
TH: This is the final album for X. Did you make a conscious effort to prove that you’re up to the task after all these years?
JD: I think everybody has a little bit of that. I think people like Bob Dylan, the reason he did that last record, Rough and Rowdy Ways, is that he wanted to prove he was still top dog, and I don’t begrudge him that. Willie has done more than 150 albums because that’s what he does. He wants to say, “Check it out, I can still do this.”
I’m really proud of the songwriting. In 2023, Exene [Cervenka, X’s co-vocalist] and I were furiously writing songs. We would write, and then we would rewrite, and then we would change the lyrics completely. I think it was the last X record, Alphabetland, when I stopped being so precious, or stubborn, about the way songs went. Because you made up one thing, it doesn’t mean you have to grab onto a death grip and say, This is the way it goes. It’s gotta work!
TH: On your 2022 solo album Fables in a Foreign Land, you seem to hit your stride as a troubadour, working with Kevin Smith, Willie Nelson’s bass player. How did that project happen?
JD: Kevin and I met during SXSW in the alley at Mohawk and hit it off. He came over to my house and we played in the kitchen, just acoustic guitar and upright bass. It was like, This is right! He’s like Rick Danko; he keeps the bottom solid, but he’s really musical. We started playing with [drummer] Conrad Choucroun, and then during lockdown—because we were all bored and didn’t know what to do—we all met over on Kevin’s patio. Conrad played quietly, and we just played out into the air. We didn’t have any amps or PA, and we thought, Well, maybe we got something here.
TH: The conceit of the record is that it’s set in the 1890s. Why that time period?
JD: I think because during lockdown we were reduced to entertaining ourselves. There was a real loneliness during that time, and retrospection. Since we were playing these instruments that could have been played back then, and the songs didn’t seem to have any modern images in them, not intentionally, it just kind of happened that way.
TH: You like to play the Austin clubs C-Boy’s, The Continental Club, and The Hole in the Wall. Are there any classic Texas dance halls you’d like to play?
JD: I don’t really play the kind of music that would work at Gruene Hall. Or Coupland Dancehall—I saw Dale Watson down there. I do love Devil’s Backbone Tavern in Fischer. I’ve been to Broken Spoke a bunch of times. I’d say my favorite club in town is Sam’s Town Point. It’s like the Broken Spoke, but it doesn’t have the conservative vibe and doesn’t feel like the ceiling is about to fall in on you.
TH: On an ideal day in Austin, what are you doing?
JD: One of my greatest pleasures is riding my horse. She’s a 22-year-old mare, a bay appendix—a quarterhorse-thoroughbred mix—with a big personality who lets you know she’s her own being. Horses sense your mood and their surroundings more than we can imagine. We ride trails through Onion Creek, which is an incredible source of nature and peace. I’ve seen deer, rabbits, armadillos, and countless species of birds.
TH: Is it true you own a bar called the Long Play Lounge?
JD: It’s Will Tanner’s bar—he owns The Hole in the Wall. I own a very small piece of it. I go there because it’s right in my neighborhood. It only plays LPs. That’s why it’s called Long Play Lounge.
TH: For a famous person, you’re affable and approachable. It’s as if you feel it’s your civic duty to go out and meet the public.
JD: I’m so glad that if I see someone and they know who I am, they will come up and say, Hey, what’s happening? And then we’ll go our separate ways. It’s rewarding to know you’ve meant something to people, and they don’t make a big deal out of it. That’s why Austin is a good place for us. If you’re not a jerk and you try to fit in—you’re a little humble about who you are and what you do—then people will say, You’re all right, come on in.