When something happens in Texas music culture, Andy Langer is usually in the mix. The journalist, radio host, event emcee, and booker of Austin’s free concert series Blues on the Green has covered the state’s music scene since the early 1990s. Over the years, he’s interviewed Willie Nelson 35 times and “done everything there is to do with” ZZ Top, Gary Clark Jr., and Leon Bridges.
After graduating from the University of Texas in 1994, Langer chose to stay in Austin to cover music instead of moving to New York City or Los Angeles. “Texas music is special because it’s never been just one thing. From the Geto Boys to Selena, Buddy Holly to Pantera, there’s a grit and fierce spirit of independence that’s unmistakably Texas,” Langer says. “That breadth and depth is singular and so are the audiences. Concertgoers here don’t just show up and listen—they live it and demand authenticity. I hope that never changes.”
In 2024, Langer’s career came full circle when he was named UT’s first senior director of live music and entertainment. The alum works across departments to better connect Austin with the 40 Acres. So far, that’s included launching a songwriter-in-residence program, bringing up-and-coming acts like Keshi to play the university’s tiny Cactus Cafe, and using his Rolodex to connect students with mentors.
“I know this from the students: There’s always going to be old Austin complaining that whatever club they used to go to is now condos, and it’s no different in Dallas or Houston,” Langer says. “But there’s a scene and a home in each of these cities for young people. Today’s clubs are, for them, what those clubs were for us. It’s all cyclical.”
Texas Highways: What brought you to Texas?
Andy Langer: I grew up on Long Island. My father was an attorney for JCPenney, and Penney’s moved the entire operation from New York City to Plano. So, I did my last two years of high school in Plano, then came to UT in 1990. I feel like 1990 to ’93, you saw old Austin but weren’t part of it. It was the sleepy town where you couldn’t spend more than $10 on an entrée, where The New York Times didn’t deliver to your door, where the best meal in town was fajitas at the Hyatt. I also saw new Austin rise up and take over just a couple of years later, with the tech boom and the Dell-ionaires, when people started to have money. In retrospect, it was a convenient time to move here because it gives me the perspective of both.
TH: How did you experience music while studying journalism at UT?
AL: Austin was a significantly smaller town, and the nightlife connection was much more fluid. What was happening downtown and on the other side of MLK at the university, in those days, was just one thing. Writing for The Daily Texan, I convinced a bunch of young publicists that I was worth talking to. So, I interviewed Van Halen, Metallica, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Public Enemy, Ozzy Osbourne. In 1990 in Austin, the Slacker aesthetic was real. If you showed the slightest hint of ambition in this town, you could do anything you wanted. In 1993, I was the talking head for the MTV News: The Week in Rock segment about Austin, at all of 20 something years old. Cheesy now, but I remember posting little flyers around West Campus so that people would see me on MTV.
TH: And now you’re back at UT as the senior director of live music and entertainment. What’s that been like?
AL: The goal of everything I do is twofold: Does it help connect the culture of the city and the culture of the university? And does it create an indelible memory for students? Bringing André 3000 to speak to the flute students definitely checks the second box. One of the surprising things about this job has been wrapping my head around the breadth and depth of what the university has. The culture of Austin was built at UT, but then the city gets so big that the campus feels a little like Vatican City. So that’s the challenge. In a small way, music and entertainment can help build that bridge back.
TH: As someone who has been covering the Texas music industry for 35 years, what are the biggest challenges today?
AL: Unfortunately, the cultural significance of music writ large—let alone Texas music, or Austin music—has dramatically decreased. There are more alternatives. Video games, Netflix. Obviously, there’s a variety of ways to spend your time in a much easier, consumer-friendly way than live music or than paying $18 for a CD or a piece of vinyl and making a connection to that artist. It’s harder to sell alcohol, and live music’s always been a vehicle to sell alcohol. The media infrastructure that used to spread the word about music is a shadow of its former self. And so, is it harder to capture attention than it’s ever been? Yeah. And sponsors are spending in different ways. The perfect storm of all those problems makes it hard for things like South by Southwest.
TH: You wrote about South by’s plans to downsize the 2026 festival. What’s your read on that change?
AL: Even when I was super critical of the over-the-top Justin Timberlake, Kanye West years, I’ve always said that Austin needs South by, and South by needs Austin. It only works here. And it’s important to point out that ‘South by Inc.’ is different from the people who started it and kept it going. But, as an organization, I feel like they made so few friends over the years. Now they’re in a position where they need friends to keep the thing afloat by buying badges or throwing big parties, and South by never really fostered that loyalty. When we are writing the obituary of South by, it’s going to be about the fact that they didn’t make enough friends, and that they were hard to deal with. There’s a sort of morality tale there.
TH: You’re also a popular emcee. What’s your favorite part of hosting events?
AL: It’s fun to not know whether any given crowd is going to embrace or actively dislike you. There’s a high-wire act to the thing. Knowing no one is there to see me, I’ve learned when to say more, when to say less, and when to just hope you get out of there alive. It’s a skill I never aspired to.
TH: Have you had an interview go bad?
AL: In April of 2003, I interviewed Steve Jobs for Esquire, timed with the launch of the iTunes Music Store. We were supposed to talk about the future of music and file sharing. He clearly understood the tech, but not the nuts and bolts of the music business. He was super defensive from the start and at one point called me a ‘primitive thinker.’ He abruptly ended the interview after 19 minutes, and, in a failed effort to get him to sit back down, expletives were hurled by both of us. It was ugly. We ran the truncated interview in the magazine, which he wasn’t happy about. There’s a quick mention of it in Walter Isaacson’s Steve Jobs book. Oddly, that reference, in a book future generations of high school students will read, might be my legacy.
TH: What’s kept you writing about Texas music for decades?
AL: Arriving to town when I did, I would go out six or seven nights a week. I covered everything from Fastball to Spoon to Patty Griffin. We were churning out stories that rarely resulted in superstardom, but I was in the right place, covering the right things. So, it’s really not about me. It’s about where I was and how long I’ve done it. There are people who can write circles around me, who are more engaging on the radio, and who look better on television. But as people come and go, I’ve stayed.
