remembering charlie

Remembering Charlie Robison: Houston-born country music giant passes away at 59

Houston-born Robison passed away on September 10 in San Antonio.

A giant of the Texas music scene has passed away. Charlie Robison, a gravelly voiced, bad boy, say-anything singer-songwriter, died at a hospital in San Antonio on Sunday, September 10 after suffering cardiac arrest and other complications, according to an Associated Press report. Robison passed away just nine days after his 59th birthday.

His wife, Kristen Robison, confirmed the new on social media, writing:

“It is with a heavy heart that I share the news that my husband, Charlie Robison has passed away today, surrounded by his family and friends. My heart is broken. Please pray for me, our children and our family.”

Robison was born in Houston — making him a local favorite here for decades — but grew up in Bandera, Texas on the ranch his family has owned for generations. Tanned, ranch-strong, and standing six-foot-four, Robison looked more jock than country singer — he played football at then Southwest Texas State University in the 1980s before an injury ending his sports career.

He made his way to Austin, playing with bands Chaparral and Two Hoots and a Holler before forming his own act, Millionaire Playboys. Paying homage to his beloved ranch home, he released his solo debut album, Bandera, in 1996. Sony Records caught wind of the young star and quickly signed him to the subsidiary Lucky Dog Records, releasing Life of the Party on the label in 1998.

Life of the Party may well be Robison's most beloved album, netting monster tracks such as the singalong, anthemic "My Hometown," "Sunset Boulevard," and "Barlight." His next album, Unleashed Live, features two Texas country giants: Robison's brother Bruce Robison and Jack Ingram.

Columbia Records then snatched him up, releasing a live album and Step Right Up. The sheen of the Nashville country scene jetted him into pop culture; he was cast as a judge in the reality TV singing competition Nashville Star.

But the tough guy, straight-shootin' Robison and his Texas grit found the glossy, hip Nashville scene repressive. He left Columbia, signed with the smaller label Dualtone, moved away from mainstream/Nashville radio-friendly tunes and returned to his love of Southern rock. The move paid off: In 2004, his single "Good Times" from the album of the same name was featured on the HBO vampire series smash True Blood.

He later self-produced and released the album Beautiful Day in 2009 on Dualtone, which prominently features Nashville singer/songwriter Keith Gattis. He left his Texas base to embark on an East Coast and U.S. tour in 2009, bringing his Texas swag to national live audiences, before settling back in Texas and gigging primarily there and Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Colorado.

While Life of the Party may be Robison's most familiar release, the 2013 Live at Billy Bob's Texas album is perhaps his magnum opus, showcasing his gritty voice, Lone Star State lyricism, and shredding guitar solos. (He was known to play classic rock covers during live shows, such as AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" and even Elton John's "Rocket Man.")

Persistent throat problems prompted surgery in 2018 that ultimately cost him his 25-year singing career. Robison announced his retirement in a statement that year that reflected his "never take yourself too seriously" approach to music:

“With a very heavy heart I am officially retiring from the stage and studio. “It’s been an amazing ride, and I cannot tell you all what the last 25 years has meant to me. I was looking forward to another 25 but as they say, ‘shit happens.’”

Always alongside country's elite, Robison will be remembered for his collaborations with notable names such as Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks, Lloyd Maines, Charlie Sexton, Rich Brotherton, his brother Bruce, and more — some of whom would surprise fans onstage.

Branching into the hospitality business, Charlie Robison opened Alamo Icehouse in San Antonio with former Major League Baseball player Brooks Kieschnick in 2014.

Music permeated his personal life: Robison married Emily Erwin of The Chicks in 1999; the couple divorced in 2008 and shared three children: Charles Augustus and twins Julianna Tex and Henry Benjamin. He married Kristen Robison — also a singer-songwriter — in 2015.

Legendary at Houston venues like The Mucky Duck for crowd-favorite, shout-out lines, Robison maintained everyman charm with his party boy paycheck lines like "...we drove back home at the end of that week and we spent it all on pot" from "My Hometown."

He stands tall, literally and figuratively, as a Texas rebel who traded national country music sheen for staying true to his Texas roots. The larger-than-life singer was known for his exceptional treatment of his band and being refreshingly approachable to fans. No doubt his "My Hometown" line, "I'll see you in Houston If I ever get out that way" will be echoing across the Bayou City in tribute to a true local son.

Movie Review

Cookie Queens goes behind the scenes of Girl Scout Cookie season

Photo courtesy of Roadside Attractions

Girl Scouts in Cookie Queens.

Few people are strong enough to resist the lure of Girl Scout cookie season every year, with the cookies’ limited availability and unique flavors a strong incentive to indulge. But only the girls and their families who have sold the cookies know the joys and stresses of trying to get people to buy them, a process that is detailed in the new documentary, Cookie Queens.

The film by documentarian Alysa Nahmias uses the stories of four different girls to represent the nationwide ritual for the Girl Scouts. They include 12-year-old Olive in Charlotte, North Carolina, a longtime top seller; 8-year-old Shannon Elizabeth in El Paso, Texas, who wants to earn the reward of going to camp; 5-year-old Ara in San Diego, California, whose goal is modest compared to most other girls; and 9-year-old Nikki in Chino, California, who has to compete with her older sisters in the cookie-selling bonanza.

The girls represent a cross-section of both ages and backgrounds, with some girls coming from wealthy families and some girls dealing with more limited means. And how much money your family has makes a big difference, as not only does someone richer have more freedom with their time and supplies, but all scouts are required to reimburse the organization for every box they take in, regardless of whether they’re able to sell it or not.

That caveat makes the journeys of the four featured girls feel wildly different. It’s clear from the start that Olive and Nikki’s families don’t give a second thought to the personal economics of selling cookies, with each girl taking in thousands of boxes at the beginning of the six-week selling season. With both Olive and Nikki rightfully confident that they’ll have no problem offloading their supply, their stories turn to how selling is personally affecting them, with each trying to reconcile the fun of doing it with the pressure they feel from their family members.

Shannon Elizabeth’s story is more harrowing, as her parents feel a strong desire to help her accomplish her lofty goal, but worry that the cost might literally be too high for the family as a whole. More than once, the parents are shown fretting that they won’t have the money to pay back what they owe should they fall significantly short in their sales. Their selling approach, which includes walking through an empty swap meet and standing outside a chain restaurant at night, only adds to their stress.

The most fun story to watch is that of Ara, whose innocence is matched by her confidence. Her parents teach her how much money they’ll owe with her small goal of 55 boxes, but right away she takes on more responsibility than expected. She’s shown making sales pitches and tallying the total number of boxes she’s sold with little-to-no help from either her mom or dad. With her high voice, glasses, and a monitor on her arm to manage her diabetes, she becomes the cute and sympathetic part of the film.

There are times that the film starts to feel more than a little manipulative, however. While many of the moments documented come off as organic, some of them seem like Nahmias is actively guiding the participants in order to get a better story. This is especially evident with Shannon Elizabeth and her family, whose early struggles turn into a miraculous feel-good story by the end, a turnaround that seems implausible at best. Everything with them might have been aboveboard, but Nahmias and her team edit the family’s journey in a way that pushes a bit too hard for emotion.

Cookie Queens, which was produced by a company owned by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, helps to give insight into the business of selling Girl Scout cookies for those who’ve only been on the purchasing end of the transaction. The dedication of each girl toward selling their allotted supply proves fun and interesting, even if the filmmaker tries to gild the lily on occasion.

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Cookie Queens is now playing in theaters,