Von Ehrics head home to Dallas after 10 years on the road

What's driving this punk country band (besides whiskey and women, that is)?

Dallas-based The Von Ehrics used to perform upwards of 200 shows a year with their punk country. They're known for their Billy Idol meets Charlie Daniels sound, an exhausting thirst for whiskey and women, and beards. I asked frontman Jason Vandygriff how he was holding up after 10 years on the road.

"We've slowed down a bunch over the past few years," Vandygriff told me on a call from New York. "It used to be a lot worse. We're down to 100-150 (shows), depending on the year. It's more than most, that's for sure. But if you're not out there -- like those bands that take a year or two off – might as well not be a band."

While he makes a fair point -- touring is a tried and true method of increasing the exposure of your band. The live music experience is sacred and incomparable to any other art form in its lasting cultural significance, and touring musicians are certainly under a unique brand of stress. It's not easy spending night after night in a bar full of strangers, far away from your family, with minimal sleep and freakishly accessible substances around every corner. It is a lifestyle that tests your true grit and alters your perspective. We discussed a few of Vandygriff's rules of the road. Hungover? "Find a decent, not greasy meal -- something with a salad and a shot of whiskey." Rough night still going when it's time to hit the road? "We have a really nice van with a bed built in the back (in case we have a rough night), plus a TV screen with video games. We stopped bringing road managers and all that because I like to be behind the wheel and listen to whatever I want to listen to."

This brought the conversation to the inevitable "what are you listening to" question, and also unfortunately marked the quintessential risk involved in selling your life to music.

"I'm not the biggest music fan anymore," he said.

Wait, what? This man has spent the last 10 of his life as a musician, and he doesn't like music? Not to be the doe-eyed reporter here, but isn't music kind of the point? Vandygriff admits to listening to one album, Lyle Lovett's Recipe for Hate, and also enjoying music his "buddies" make, but he also admits to being a hard-sell.

"A record will really have to hit me hard. For a record to really grab a hold of me is something rare and I don't seek it out anymore," Vandygriff said. "I know what I like. I scratch CD's and I go out and buy the same one over."

Fair enough. As a music critic, I can appreciate a refined ear; but as a music lover, I have no comprehension whatsoever how a person (a musician!) could ever say anything like this in a non-ironic manner.

"This is what I do for a living, I'm burned out on music," he said. "I don't want it to be a part of my time off."

The crickets in the office signaled the silence on my end of the line. Where does this conversation go from here? I had to find common ground again, so I asked him about his favorite bar in America.

"Ooh! That is a good question! I would have to say the Milestone in Charlotte," he said. The story goes on: "We had drank about 80 beers the night before in Nashville, so we figured we'd go half that (so we don't run the bar out of business). Well, they still almost ran out of beer between the two bands. They used to have a sign next to the bar that had our name on it: 'The Von Ehrics: The Reason Why Bands Don't Get Free Beer Anymore."