Ticket stub for John Cale on the 22nd of April, 1979 at the Sunken Gardens Theatre, San Antonio, TX

The following is an excerpt from the I Love (Live) Rock & Roll column in the Austin Chronicle:

"San Antone on a Hot and Dusty Night" by Margaret Moser

"Exactly 10 years after the Gardens shows, in April 1979, punk was running rampant. Its emergence in my life was as profound as the psychedelia that inspired my first experiences what seemed like all those years ago. And 10 years after leaving the Velvet Underground, John Cale was taking his place as one of punk's godfathers with his Sabotage tour. I had met Cale in Austin at the Armadillo show, where his paranoid military consciousness and crackpot conspiracy theories collided onstage in a mangle of punk rhythms, skewing my focus of the new sound I was in love with. Cale and I flirted outrageously backstage but I snubbed him; three days later, however, I drove to San Antonio to see him play - at the Sunken Gardens amphitheatre.

Now, here I was, ten years later, at age 25 - a whole fucking decade, for Chrissake - born again at the scene of lost innocence and a rock & roll renaissance, watching a ragtag army of New York punks prophesy the dark and druggy but riveting and intelligent visions of one of rock's bonafide geniuses. I smiled: the black leather and torn t-shirts of Cale's band were as much an anomaly among the majestic, Grecian columns as the hippies' tie-dyed attire had been.

That soft April Sunday brought back memories with every ruffle of the afternoon wind; I walked slowly, deliberately, toward The Spot and stood, hearing the musical direction of my future performed in front of me. Cale and the band were placating Velvet lovers with "Waiting for My Man," and the familiar feel of sound ricocheted off the back wall and slammed my head from both sides. A journal entry dated April 24, 1979 reads: I was reeling from the memories that flooded back, and the implication of being here ten years after with no less than John Cale. Could I have imagined 10 years before, a mere high-schooler driving around listening to the Velvet Underground jones during "Waiting for My Man" that I would be here, now?... I was flush with lust, yes, for the estimable Mr. Cale, but also lust for the renewal of faith in rock & roll performance. Once again, it was musical epiphany that would forever transform what I listened to and how I heard it, back in the same place it all started. (I busted this rejuvenated cherry by fucking John Cale backstage after his performance, mere steps from the very spot I lost it the first time. It was shamelessly gratifying.)"