Howdy From Austin, Texas --     Here I am in one of my favorite cities in all of theworld -- Austin, Texas. This is a fun and kooky place. I lived here back when it was a little city. Now, it's unreal how much it has grown. One of my favorite clubs used to be Antone's. It used to be on Sixth Street back when that was the only club on that street -- except for the Driskill Hotel Bar or something else. By the way, the Driskill Hotel is very cool -- haunted.     Anyway, I want to talk a little bit tonight about music critics. It's funny how the critics in Dallas, where I live, are especially hard on me now. I wish that they could understand a few things.     One thing is this. I'm an artist. As an artist, part of my job is to not give on iota about what critics say. So, maybe I'm going to get a little lazy about doing my job right now. Ha Ha. Seriously, these idiots don't remember when the only bands in Dallas were cover bands. They don't remember how painful it was to walk into Mother Blues while some band played a Foreigner song. Or a Toto song. Or a Boston song. Then, those spandex wearing hair-guys would talk to me about how they were going to get some kind of record deal! They had three original songs!     I don't want to disrespect Mother Blues. Sure, they had cheesy cover bands. But, you could also see Freddie King there. To someone like me, that's pretty major.     Anyway, some of these music critics are too young to remember when, in Dallas, if you played more than two original songs a night, you wouldn't even get a gig -- anywhere. They don't even know, probably because they are not musical artists themselves, how difficult it is to make your own songs work on a crowd. But, I'm getting off of my first point which is this. If it hadn't have been for a few people in Dallas like myself doing sound gigs at VFW halls for bands who played their own music, or had it not been for Charlie Gilder at the Twilight Room, or had it not been for Russell Hobbs at the Theater Gallery, the Deep Ellum/Dallas scene would not now have so many clubs where original music is encouraged, not discouraged. Thus, if it were not for artists like me, who, took chances with my own music and the original music of others, those little music critics at the Dallas Observer would be writing articles about which band could do the best covers of U2 and the Backstreet Boys.     This brings me to my main point. As an artist, my main job is to write and perform original songs. I must continue to write songs while thinking of a few objectives. One is to not repeat myself. That means that I'm constantly looking for new sounds, new progressions, new beats, and new lyrical ideas. I cannot rest on my laurels. I have to keep trying to come up with new and interesting things, all the while staying within my "style".I'm very lucky that Reverend Horton Heat has an identifiable "sound". We live in a world where, if a band like Korn gets big, all of the sudden you have 100,000 bands that sound like Korn. Therefore, having my own "sound" becomes something that's important, but, it shouldn't be constrictive. But, critics don't understand this. They don't know how difficult this recording artist profession can be. If I stay strictly to my "sound" without trying to do different things, what kind of artist am I? To be blunt, I'd be a pussy, a parody of myself, and, not a very valid artist. I have to take chances. The other side is that if I go too far out on that limb, then I don't fit into the critics little "box" that their small yet egotistical minds put me in. Screw them. What do they know? Nothing! I'm not afraid to fall off of that limb, and, I don't consider myself a worthwhile artist unless I go out on that limb.      I've never been afraid to go out on a limb. That's one reason why I played rock-a-billy. Back in the early eighties, being a punk was way out. But, at least people knew you were "punk". Rock-a-billy? What was that? The people that I worked with in the nine-to-five world thought that I was ridiculous. Grease in my hair. Wayfarer sunglasses. Shirt-jacks from the fifties. Zoot-suit baggy pants. But, rock-a-billy and music from the fifties. that to me, was the only real rock and roll, was something that I loved dearly, and it made me different. But, it wasn't easy. Heavy-metals looked at me like I was a nerd because I had short, greasy hair. The club owners didn't want that damn country/blues in their "cool" club that booked cover bands. I mean, I actually liked Elvis and admitted it! The ladies I worked with laughed when I told them that someday, their husbands would cut their hair in a flat-top and start wearing those Wayfarer sunglasses that they thought were so nerdy. Then, I toured America in a Chevy van for ten years, when, the main question that music critics asked was something like, "What is rock-a-billy? Is it kind of like Dr. Hook and the Medicine show?" But then, at least, the music critics could see that I was a true rebel. They could tell that I wasn't afraid to fall off of that limb. Country/blues and rock-a-billy in punk rock clubs. And they would ask, "What's that big cello the other guy plays?" Back then, the critics liked us.     But now, the music critics not only know what rock-a-billy is, they have different classifications of it. And now, they act like they've been hip to it for years, and they write nasty reviews about Reverend Horton Heat. I've done my job well. This must mean success! Anyway, my final point is this, it's not about the music. My album "Spaceheater" has some great music on it. If that had been my first album, those critics would have loved it. They would have seen that I was going out on a limb.         It's not about the music. It's about a pose. Critics pose as people who know what the art of music is all about. Many times, they just fall back on the same cliche' about how "they were good back before they were on a major label". That cliche works for them over and over and over. They can repeat themselves because, they are not the artist. I don't have that luxury. Jim "Reverend Horton Heat" Heath