"Nothing Grows In Texas", by the Sacred Cowboys. One of the small pleasures of living in Canberra in Autumn is the occasional chance to sit out on the back deck, in the tepid but welcome morning sun, with a cup of coffee straight from the Bialetti, and a copy of the Saturday Age. Which, today, contained a review of a gig by the Sacred Cowboys, a staple of the Melbourne cowpunk/psychobilly scene of the early to mid-eighties. "Nothing Grows In Texas" was also a Triple R favourite for many a long year. I don't actually remember ever seeing the Cowboys play, but I'm sure I must have. (There is much I can't remember.)
Anyway, here they are miming on Countdown. Watching this feels like it all happened a long time ago, while simultaneously making it seem like it was only yesterday.
(Bonus Australian cowboy connection: this purports to be recent live footage of the Beasts of Bourbon. Tex seems to be aging unexpectedly well.)
