By Andrew Daly
Photos by Chuck Flores
For most artists, being effectively silenced by an illness like spasmodic dysphonia would be the end of a career. But not for Ian Moore, who, after being diagnosed, found power and beauty in what was most certainly a life-altering situation.
Of his post-diagnosis outlook, Moore tells Buddy, “I decided to chase beauty and to sit in joy. That is the key to making art and music. If I am able to stay more powerfully here, my music is more powerful as well.”
Interestingly, while Moore’s illness stripped him of his ability to speak, he can still sing. “Singing and guitar playing are about expression,” he says. “And expression is about letting go and letting ideas and sounds come through. By being more open and letting go, I’m finding deeper and more expressive sounds.”
To be fair, Moore has always been open. It wasn’t always easy, as he came up as “just another guitar player from Texas” and, like it or not, lived in the shadow of Stevie and Jimmie Vaughan.
Moore admits that residing in that shadow was “complex,” but it never defined him. “I shared a lot of playing style with those guys,” he admits. “And culturally, I was from a different world. But my dad was a Buddhist scholar, and we had lived in India and Mexico when I was young.”
He explains: “My music reflected these things. I wanted to write songs like the authors I had read growing up and incorporate these sounds I heard. My being authentic to my roots was startling to a lot of people.”
Moore’s 1993 debut, Ian Moore, sounded exactly like you’d expect a young gun coming up from that scene to sound. That wasn’t a bad thing—but true to form, Moore began to experiment with his second album, 1995’s Modernday Folklore, and he never looked back.
Since then, Moore has kept at it. Most recently, he’s teamed up with Jesse Dayton and Johnny Moeller as Texas Headhunters. Beyond that, he’s just trying to keep an open mind and progress. “I’m just always trying to get better,” Moore says.
“I’ve always been a feel player,” he says of his personal style. “That’s the core of my playing. During the pandemic, I decided to try to reapproach my instrument from a more cerebral angle.
I worked on modes, scales, and substitutions. It was an interesting exercise, and though I have no interest in playing from that angle, I think it opened up some new channels in my playing.”
As for where he’s going, who he is today versus the past, Moore shrugs. “I want to play with emotion and keep it raw, but I think there are new sounds now. When I was young, I needed alot of external validation, mostly from my elders, to let me know I was on track, but now my ballast is solid, and I know who I am.”
Tell us about what led you to the guitar.
I grew up, as a little kid, going to the Soap Creek Saloon, Luckenbach, and the Armadillo. All of these clubs were populated by some of the greatest guitar players alive. It was such a cool time, because it was like a big family, and these guys were like my uncles. They mostly played Fender guitars and amps.
I loved how cool it all was, and from the time I was about five or six, I desperately wanted to play guitar. My mom convinced me to play violin instead, and I played that until I was 15 and had a freak accident that cut all the tendons in my left hand. I think my mom felt so bad that she acquiesced to me and let me play guitar!
How did the Texas scene around you growing up impact the way you look at and approach
the guitar?
All of the players were still mostly local. I was seeing Denny Freeman, Jimmie and Stevie Vaughan, Doug Sahm, John Reed, and Eric Johnson. Also, lots of country players. This style is now out in the world and has been integrated by countless players (mostly through the Stevie and Eric lens), and I love that, but it is the core of our local language.
This has become more evident as we’ve seen the rise of the southeastern players like Derek [Trucks] and Marcus [King]. They come from a more major pentatonic starting place. I love what they do, and like many, I have incorporated pieces of this into my playing, but the style I am based in is definitely Austin.
Tell us about the gear you used while coming up as a player.
I played whatever I had as a kid. My first guitar was an ES-335 that Stevie gave me. When he took that back, I briefly had a BC Rich! That was funny. Then a Squire Strat and eventually bought by No. 1 at Hennings Music. It was a ’62 Strat body with a ’55 Esquire neck. I played a few amps, but my ’66 [Fender] Super Reverb really defined my sound, and is still the template I use for what I want my guitar to sound like.
Was it tough coming up in the shadow of Stevie and Jimmie Ray Vaughan?
It was complex. I think the biggest thing for me is that these were my people, and I took great influence from both of them. The issue was that Stevie got so big, and then all the outsiders who didn’t understand the scene and how it worked boiled it all down to “Stevie’s sound,” which was really a bummer.
To me, and many others, so much of Stevie’s core sound came from Denny. I felt a lot of responsibility to explain that as a young player, out of respect for where it came from. I learned early on that truth didn’t necessarily translate into what people felt.
What was it like recording your debut record, Ian Moore? Do you remember how it was received in the Texas area?
It was a really exciting time. My band (Michael, Chris, and Bukka) was just coalescing around me, and I felt really dialed into what was happening. I was one of a small group of kids who had really leaned into the generation before me, but I also had my own sounds and influences. As soon as we started recording, there was a sense that it was gonna make some noise.
What led you to deviate so greatly with your second album, Modernday Folklore, and beyond? Do you regret that?
I don’t think the second album is a huge deviation. A few things happened. We became a band, and the other members started to influence the sound more. We were also on the road a lot, going all over the world, listening to music on the bus, etc. We grew a lot in that way.
I was also evolving into a really deep love of Jimi Hendrix. I loved his experimentation and how much he could be so hard and so soft. I wanted to try to take guitar music to some places that were becoming evident to me, and when I listen to Modernday Folklore, I hear that.
Tell us about your illness that led you to being unable to speak, but does allow you to still sing.
It is called Spasmodic Dysphonia. It is a neurological condition that causes a gripping in the throat, and often the belly. It is a nervous system issue, brought on often by stress and trauma.
The brain has two spheres, right and left, and singing and speaking are in different spheres. I believe this was largely brought on by being an open person trying to make peace and beauty through my music at a time when culture has grown so noisy and nasty. I don’t see it as an illness but more as an evolution. There is power here; it’s just about learning to harness it.
You’re releasing new music with Jesse Dayton and Johnny Moeller. How did that come about?
I have a new project [Texas Headhunters] with Jesse Dayton and Johnny Moeller. We’ve been talking about it for a while, but we’ve all been so busy. We finally got together, wrote some songs, and got them to tape. I think people are gonna really dig it!
What guitar moment from this project are you proudest of, and why?
I did everything on the first take, and I think it would be that. I let them all sit as they were and think they stand up well. It sounds like me, but playing alongside Johnny and Jesse really brought that out.
What’s your current rig like now?
I build my own amps, so my amp is basically in the Dumble/Two Rock realm. Like a giant Fender, but way cleaner. Less room for error. Playing my Strats, my Supro for slide, a Berly, and a Paoletti. Similar pedals to what I’ve always used, although I’ve incorporated a few Kingtone pedals, Wes Jeans fuzz, and a couple of other little tweaks.
Do you have regrets, wish things were different, or feel slept on as a player?
I don’t live in regrets. They pass across my mind, and, like jealousy, I let them move along. Regrets are decisions to live in the past, and what’s done is done. I’m proud of my artistic decisions.
They may not have been the best for material gain, but in the end, the records I’ve made are ones I enjoy listening to, and they have all been made with me trying to simply make the best music I can. I can’t imagine a career trying to chase fame. I’d rather be able to do what I do and just chase beauty.
How do you hope to be remembered?
I’ve always looked at my music and career as something that was passed down to me with clarity and integrity. I’ve done my best to follow that and make the music of my people. Ironically, that often left me at odds with people who thought they knew the path.
My people were and are open-hearted weirdos. It’s why we love all these classic Austin artists so much. I’ve never given in to narrow-minded herding to make my stuff fit, and looking back, I can hear all these pieces in my music.
Lastly, what makes Texas such a special place for guitarists?
I think Texas has always been an iconoclastic place that just had its own identity. For me, Austin in particular, was a place in the 70s where you could go and just be yourself. I think so many players merged there and just developed a really unique sound. It’s cool because to this day, people in Texas just really have a love for the guitar. It never goes out of style!
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