One Man's Music: The Life and Times of Texas Songwriter Vince Bell

XXXI. “Album of a Lifetime”

214 XXXI “AlbumofaLifetime” Phoenix was released on July 16, and the morning began with a radio interview on KUT, the University of Texas’s radio station. After lunch with my family, who had come to Austin to help me celebrate the album’s release, Geoff Muldaur, David Mansfield, and I had a short rehearsal in the living room of my tiny suite at the old Driskill Hotel. I had been holding my breath for weeks, hoping I would appear healthyandabletoacrowdthatwouldcriticallywatchmyeverymove. Would I panic if I looked out and didn’t know where I was? Would I tumble over tricky pronunciations of self-inflicted onomatopoeia? I reminded myself that I was actually pretty good at this stuff now, saying under my breath, “Don’t you chickenshit out on me, pal.” At some point during most days, I was lost. My best concepts of time still deserted me, or I would forget what I was doing and why. A few moments of this was more than long enough to leave me unsettled . Then I would pause and get quiet. Doing that often allowed me to catch up to reality, prevented anyone else from noticing my perplexity, and kept me from regarding that condition of my life too seriously. “We had lived together for four years when you told me that “Album of a Lifetime” � 215 sometimes, when you were driving, you had no idea where you were, or where you were going,” Sarah recalls. Early in the afternoon, there was an in-store promotion at Waterloo Records. The event opened with Geoff, David, and me sitting on stools. I was still very self-conscious about standing while I played. The first notes of the show sounded like someone was torturing a small animal, because the guy doing the sound system that day was unsure about how to mic all three of us. I had to get over my aversion to standing, and fast. In the midst of the next few bars of music, I pulled my right hand away from the pick guard and unplugged the cord from the butt of the Martin in one movement. Without missing a beat, I climbed off of that stool and began to walk slowly out into the audience, performing the piece without micing of any sort. The other two fellows got the giggles and followed along, until we all three stood in the midst of the first few rows of listeners. During the set, I looked around into so many familiar faces. Playing within the crowd of well-wishers was magical. I finished out the whole set on my feet. “It made him so accessible to people,” according to Bob Sturtevant. “When he unplugged the guitar and stood up in the front, that’s the Vince I knew, and that was the Vince that everybody was hoping was going to step out, too.” The album release party was later that evening at Cactus Cafe on the University of Texas campus. Phoenix got a great send-off that night, though I sat down again when I played. Later, I didn’t remember that afternoon when I stood in performance for the first time in 12 years. Some things change hard. Geoff, David, and I comfortably played the songs on the recording to a full house with Bob Neuwirth looking on. I sensed I had made a vast circle somehow complete. 216 � One Man’s Music: The Life and Times of Texas Songwriter Vince Bell Mandy Mercier describes the night: “Everyone was there—people were there that I hadn’t seen since the accident—it was a climactic moment. I didn’t know if I’d ever hear Vince sing those old songs again, and now there were new songs and the humor was back. You can’t have humor if you have a lot of fear.” “I don’t see evidence of head injury when I look at Vince now,” comments Hobart. “Perhaps a slight dropout now and again, but that’s the same thing you see when you are talking with any really busy, concentrating person who is thinking about several things at the same time, concentrating intensely. I know many musicians who forget more words. His strong desire to work, push, and get as much done as possible probably made all the difference. “You can take any aspect of a person and mistakenly assume that is the whole person. With Vince you...