DISGRACELAND - Stevie Ray Vaughan - Fiery Blues and Fateful Choices

Episode Date: May 12, 2026

By the time he was 27 years old, Stevie Ray Vaughan was the hottest guitar player in Texas.  But outside of the Lone Star State, he was practically unknown, with no real audience and no record deal.  But all that would change when Stevie Ray Vaughan reached a crossroads and was presented with a fateful choice: be a star in someone else’s universe, or become a guitar god on his own. To see the full list of contributors, see the show notes at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.disgracelandpod.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to exclusive bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠disgracelandpod.com/membership⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠GET THE NEWSLETTER⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠X⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ (formerly Twitter)  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook Fan Group⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Elvis. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHeart Podcast presents soccer moms. So I'm Leanne. This is my best friend, Janet. And we have been joined at the hips since high school. Absolutely.

A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips. This is a podcast. We're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey. With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? Oh, they hit a bogo. Well, then you got them.

Listen to soccer moms on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. How much you wait, Wanda? Right now, about 130. I'm at 183. We should race. No, I want to leave here with my original hips. On the podcast, the matchup with Alia, I pair prominent female athletes with unexpected guests. On a recent episode, I sat down with undisputed boxing champ, Clarissa Shields, and comedian Wanda Sykes to talk about Wanda's new movie Undercard, the art of trash talk and what it really means to be ladylike.

Open your free IHeart Radio app. Search the matchup with Alia and listen now. Brought to you by Novartis, founding partner of IHeart Women's Sports Network. Joy is essential and it's also elusive, but now there's a new and exciting way to start your journey toward a more joyful existence. Joy 101. It's a new podcast hosted by me, Hoda Kotby. If you're craving inspiration to maximize your joy, tune into these candid, uplifting, and moving on-air chats. Open your free IHeart Radio app.

Joy 101 and listen now. Joy 101 with Hoda Cotpe is presented by CVS. Disgrace Land is a production of Double Elvis. This is a story about a giant, a guitar god, who I think was actually better than God. Not the real God, the other one. You'll hear what I mean in a minute. And this is a story about cocaine and booze and blues and of course. It's about a fiery crash.

Because this is a story about Stevie Rayvon, one of the absolute greatest to ever do it. A man who, of course, made great music. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show. That wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Liquid Yeo MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to Let's Dance. by David Bowie.

And why would I play you that specific slice of serious moonlight cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on May 21st, 1983. A number one song that would force Stevie Ravon to make a choice. Be a star in someone else's universe or be a god on his own. On this episode, Guitar Gods, Booze, Blues, Blues, a Fire, crash and one of the greatest to ever do it, Stevie Ray Vaughn. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgraceland. Booze were now raining down from every direction. In the silence between songs, they were impossible to miss. At first, there was polite applause, and then awkward silence.

Until the heckler started up, way in the back of the theater. Turn it down! Soon, others were joining in. Get them off the stage. But with every song, the jeers grew louder. This wasn't Bob Dylan going electric at Newport in 1965, but you might have been fooled by the reaction of the blues purists in the crowd. This was Stevie Ray Vaughan in double trouble at the Montreau Jazz Festival in 1982. The world famous festival in Switzerland was hosting Jackson Brown, Talking Heads, Dizzy Gillespie and Beebe King that year, as well as Stevie Ray Vaughan's virtually unknown Texas trio. They were there because Jerry Wexler, a guy who produced your favorite Aretha Franklin songs

and signed Led Zeppelin to their first contract, that Jerry Wexler vouched for the band personally with festival bookers after he saw them blow the roof off of Austin's Continental Club. So when Stevie Ravon and his longtime double-trouble rhythm section of Tommy Shannon on bass and Chris Layton on drums showed up in Switzerland, they did what they always did. did, which was plug-in, turn up the amps, and play the meanest, dirtiest, loudest Texas boogie that anyone had ever heard. And if there was any money at the end of the night, they split it up three ways and do it again the next night. To get the sound right, they needed volume, they needed it,

lots of it, because Stevie Ray Vaughn was no normal guitar player. He was short, stood just five-foot-five, but his hands were huge. He used strings thick as power lines, I mean massively thick strings for a massively thick tone. And he had the strength to bend them and send notes soaring into the heavens. He knew all the classic tricks. He could play behind his head, behind his back.

He and his older brother Jimmy even worked out a routine where they could play two parts of the same guitar at the same time. Plus, Stevie Ravon had the flash. He had this big black guy. Gunslinger's hat, silk scars, and his weathered Fender Stratocaster guitar. Everyone knew what to expect when he walked onto the stage. Everyone, unfortunately, except for this Swiss crowd of stuffed shirts, the band stuck out like a sore thumb on a night featuring acoustic blues and traditional jazz acts.

Compared with everyone else on that bill, their volume was deafening, but not as deafening as the silence when they finished their last song. Stevie Ravon, he wasn't even mad, he was just confused. Maybe they were a bit nervous, but come on, they didn't play that bad. They took pride in working the crowd into a frenzy, but tonight they've gone over like a lead balloon. Stevie could only think of one other time that they've been booed. It was a few months back.

They booked a two-night gig, opening for the Clash, the Coliseum, in Austin. Even though Austin was their home base, when they took the stage, they didn't recognize a single face in that crowd. And as soon as they started playing, the teenagers in black leather and safety pins are screaming, fuck you, Stevie Ray Vaughn. And Stevie Ray Vaughn had to tell Joe Strummer they weren't coming back for night two. That this weren't the right fit. And that was exactly the problem.

In 1983, Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble were too heavy for blues purists. But rock fans wanted New Wave and punk. Radio wouldn't play them. And no record label would touch a blues band. At 27 years old, Stevie Ray Vaughan. was already the hottest guitar player in Texas. He'd held the title practically since he was a skinny little teenager sneaking out the tag along with his older brother Jimmy to his gigs.

And Jimmy himself was considered the number one guitar player in the state, at least until his kid brother started plugging in. However, being the hottest guitar player in Texas, it didn't pay like it used to. Sure, Stevie and Double Trouble, they could pack tiny sweatbox clubs in the Lone Star State, but that barely paid the bills. outside of Texas, they had no real audience, they had no record deal, and after this disaster,

they had no hope of things ever getting better. Stevie grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off his drenched face, and with a towel pressed to his eye, he didn't even hear the dressing room door open. When he lowered the towel, a thin, pale man had materialized next to him. The man wore an immaculately tailored white suit. His hair was perfect, and when he was a He looked down at Stevie. One of his eyes was green, and the other was blue. Stevie gasped as he realized.

He was face-to-face with David Bowie. Let's grab a drink, David Bowie suggested with a devilish grin. At the musicians barra backstage, David Bowie fawned over Stevie Ray Vaughan. He called him the best electric blues player he'd ever heard, a visionary. The crowd of mere mortals didn't get it. But he, David Bowie, knew something special when he heard it. After another drink, Bowie casually mentioned a new album, a dance record. But still, maybe Stevie could add something to it.

And as the drinks kept flowing, the plan kept growing. And now David Bowie wanted Stevie Ravon in double trouble to join his world tour as the opening act. And oh yeah, Stevie would play in Bowie's backing band too. David Bowie promised to lift Stevie Ravon out of the tiny Texas. his clubs and onto the biggest stages in the world. All Stevie had to do was say yes. And David Bowie held out his hand, and Stevie shook it eagerly before tipping back his drink. And when he put the glass down, David Bowie was already gone.

As amazing as it was to sit and chat with the superstar, Stevie Ravon had heard enough offers just like this one and know that nothing would come of it. He'd probably never hear from David Bowie again. And besides, his mind was focused on redemption. The next night, the band was booked into a small after-hours club with an atmosphere that was more continental club and less Carnegie Hall. Back in their usual environment, they put on a barn burner of a set, wowing everyone in the crowd, including Jackson Brown. In fact, Jackson Brown was so impressed he offered to let the band record some songs at his personal studio if they ever made it out to Los Angeles. After returning to the States, the band could barely afford to get from Texas.

Texas to California. Still, they had scraped together a few gigs and headed west. They spent 72 hours in L.A. laying down 10 songs, including six of Stevie's originals, all of which were recorded live. It wasn't supposed to be an album, just some demos to help them finally land a record deal. After three days of recording in L.A., Stevie Ravon was just about to pass out when a phone call woke him up at 3 in the morning. And when he picked up the phone, there was a British voice on the other line. It was David Bowie, and he was calling to make a deal. And any good blues men will tell you, when you head down to the crossroads to dance with that devil,

you, unfortunately, do not get to pick the song. You feel it in your heart. IR Radio, Canada's number one streaming app for radio and podcasts, including IHart Pride Canada, your favorite hits, and must-have party bangers, plus personalized and curated playlists, Like back in the day pride Come together, celebrate love

Take pride with you Anytime, anywhere Your smart speaker to play IHeart Pride Canada Stream us on your phone Or listen now at iHeartRadio.ca Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you saw it was.

Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro And these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring on the 14th season of family secrets. And just then, We felt the plain turn in the air, so much so that the bags that were under people's seats just kind of flew into the aisle. Each week, we dive headfirst into the complex power of secrecy, how it shapes our identities and relationships,

and how it ultimately can reveal to us our truest selves. My daughter, she's pretending she doesn't know, but is trying to cook and feed me and keep me alive because I wasn't eating anything, and me pretending like everything was fine. He kind of shoved me out of the way and said, move. And he went out the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off. And that was the last time I saw him. Listen to season 14 of Family Secrets on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHeart Podcast Presents soccer moms.

So I'm Leanne. Yeah. This is my best friend, Janet. Hey. And we have been joined at the hips since high school. Absolutely. A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips.

This is a podcast we're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? Oh, they hit a bogo. Well, then you got it. Listen to soccer moms on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It was hard to tell because the car was moving so fast. But this was in fact God himself behind the wheel of the Ferrari 365,

weaving through humanity in the heavy South London traffic. God pulled the wheel hard to the right as the tires chirped in protest, and he flew past a line of slow-moving cars before he finally found an open stretch of road and mashed the accelerator. The car shot forward with a force that would have crushed any normal human, but ever since he'd gotten clean, God craved the adrenaline rush of fast cars and loud music. Speaking of which, God leaned forward and jerked the volume knob to the right.

and the radio was tuned to a top 40 station, and it wasn't exactly God's music. A funky bass line throbbed from the speakers, tight guitar stabs, loaded with echo, played over it like a Nile Rogers riff. Actually, maybe it was a Nile Rogers riff. Even if it wasn't his cup of tea, God couldn't deny it. The song grooved, hard. And then he heard a sound that tore through the car like a lightning bolt, a single stinging note that sent shivers up his spine. God knew he had to drop everything and find out who the hell this guitar player was. Okay, so in 1983, Eric Clapton was a little past this Clapton as God Prime,

but he was definitely still on most people's Mount Olympus of guitar gods, even if he wasn't on mine. And as a so-called guitar god, Eric Clapton had the power to recognize a fellow deity from a single spine-tingling note. And he knew what it meant. It meant that he was about to drop everything to find out who the hell was playing the lead guitar on David Bowie's Let's Dance. Because it had been a while since anyone had sent a shiver like this up his spine. Since Clapton heard Dwayne Allman playing in the background of a 1969 Wilson Pickett album, to be specific.

And Dwayne stepped out of the background and shot to stardom before he died in a fiery motorcycle accident in 1971. Ever since then, there have been a giant vacancy at the peak of Mount Olympus, of the guitar gods, Mount Olympus, that is. And at least Eric Clapton figured as he turned a car back toward him. town. That vacancy was empty, but right about now, it sure sounded like it might be filled. By the time his guitar playing was making its way to God's ears in London, Stevie Ray Vaughn was in Dallas contemplating a deal with the devil. On April 30th, he was camped out in a Dallas hotel room preparing for rehearsals with Bowie's band when his brother Jimmy called with some news.

It was the kind of news that required a cold shot. Muddy Waters was dead. As Stevie tossed one back for the blues legend, his mind wandered back to his options. On the one hand, after years of struggling, he was suddenly featured on the hottest song of the year. He was rehearsing with a killer band for the biggest tour in the world, and the hype was bigger than anything he'd ever seen. And thanks to that hype, Stevie Ravon and Double Trouble, who he insisted get full billing in his contract, finally landed a record deal.

and the demos turned out to be good enough for epic records to release them untouched. And the album was coming out in just a few weeks to coincide with the start of David Bowie's serious moonlight tour. And that was the rub. Stevie Ravon wouldn't be playing shows to support his own debut album. Instead, he'd be playing on a David Bowie tour. And a David Bowie tour was all about, well, David Bowie. The musicians in the band were cool. Stevie liked jamming on China Girl and the Gene Jeanne.

but what the fuck was he going to play on songs like Life on Mars or Space Oddity? Plus, David Bowie's big plans for Stevie were growing smaller by the day. First it was the opening slot for the whole tour. But then it got reduced down to just opening shows in America, and then further reduced to just opening shows in the South, and then it just got to be that they were only opening for David Bowie for two shows in Texas. David Bowie's PR team suddenly didn't want to help her. promote Stevie Ravon.

They made him agree to not talk about his own music in interviews. It was ridiculous. The whole thing made Stevie laugh. He looked at his Stratocaster leaning against the hotel bed. All he did for David Bowie was spray some Albert King licks all over a few tracks. It wasn't any big deal. He'd been doing that since he was a teenager. Back in the 1970s, when Albert King pushed open the door to Anton's,

one of the best blues clubs in Austin, Stevie Ray Vaughan's eyes went wide. Albert King was Stevie's favorite guitar player. But he was more than that. He was a blues giant. He was also, like, a real giant. Albert King was easily a foot taller than Stevie. He weighed close to 300 pounds.

On stage, his Gibson flying V guitar looked like a toothpick in his hands. Albert King was a lefty, so he played the guitar on the opposite side of his body, just as Jimmy Hendricks did. but unlike Jimmy, he also played it upside down with the high strings on the top of the neck and the low strings on the bottom. Albert King had managed to survive three decades in this business because he did everything himself.

He didn't trust his career to anybody. He drove his own tour bus. Because while other people used house bands, Albert didn't trust whatever half-ass collection of local players that a club owner at a place like Antones might cobble together. So it didn't matter that the house band in question tonight was Jimmy Vaughn's group, The Fabulous Thunderbirds. They weren't even going to sniff the stage when Albert King got up there.

What Albert King hated even more than those house bands was the wannabe white boy lead guitar players who were always sniffing around his sets, always trying to sit in, always talking about how great they were, and they could run their mouths, but none of them could ever hang with Albert King. Stevie Ray Vaughn knew all that. But he also knew how many thousands of times he dropped the needle on an Albert King riff and played along until it got every detail perfect. So he begged Clifford Antone, the club's owner, to try to get him on stage with Albert.

And then he saw the first set. And when the band kicked in, Albert played sweet. And then he played hard. He made the guitar swing. He made the guitar scream. And he absolutely tore the roof off of Antones. Suddenly, Stevie Ravon was shaking in his boots. He was thinking about slipping out the back door when Clifford tapped him on the shoulder.

He muttered in Stevie's ear that Albert King wasn't too happy about it. But he said if Stevie wanted to get humiliated, he could come take his shot. Stevie pulled his Fender Stratocaster out of its case, and lately his guitar was feeling like an extension of his own body. He was in love. He'd even named the guitar, First Wife. But those feelings of love disappeared when he crawled on stage. Albert King was staring at him like he was about to cut him to pieces with his guitar playing.

And the band launched into a Latin groove, and Albert let loose a fiery lick just to warm up. Stevie held his breath and answered with a couple Albert King licks of his own. And the older man raised his eyebrows. And then he up the ante with an avalanche of lightning fast notes. Stevie gave it right back, and then it was on. The two were going back and forth. It was like a back alley knife fight on stage. Stevie Ravon wasn't shaking in his boots anymore.

He was holding his own. And as the song ended, Albert King turned away from him, but Stevie saw a crack of a small smile. That was the night that Stevie Ravon first felt it, like he had passed a test, like he had been accepted into the brotherhood of the blues. Soon everyone from Buddy Guy to Muddy Waters

was showing him their riffs, their tricks of the trade. The masters taught Stevie Rayvon how to bring the blues to life. They taught him how to live the life too. First, it was White Cross as washed down with malt liquor to stay up all night. But by 1979,

Steve Rayvon had moved up to Crown Royal and cocaine. One night that year, Stevie Rayvon went backstage after opening for muddy waters. He snorted a line of cocaine just as an off-duty cop happened to be walking by a window nearby. The next thing he knew, He was getting hauled off in handcuffs right near a surprise Muddy Waters who was just about to go on stage. Stevie was back the next morning, and Muddy didn't give him a hard time about it,

but he told Stevie to watch himself. Thinking about Muddy Waters brought a tear to Stevie Ravon's eye and a reminder of the news that a great one was gone. He dumped a baggy of cocaine into his glass and filled it with Crown Royal. Stevie knew he wasn't going to make it to rehearsal tonight. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was ever going back to bowl. Bowie again. He wasn't meant to be a side man, even for a superstar like Ziggy Stardust. He raised the glass for money. He could still see the powder swirling around inside, and then he knocked it back. Stevie Ray Vaughn was going to play the blues, and he was going to live the life

for better or for worse. We'll be right back after this world, word, word. IHR Radio, Canada's number one streaming app for radio and podcasts, including IHart Pride Canada, your favorite hits and must have party bangers, plus personalized and curated playlists, like back in the day pride. Come together, celebrate love. Take pride with you, anytime, anywhere. Just ask your smart speaker to play IHart Pride Canada. Stream us on your phone.

Or listen now at iHeartRadio.ca. Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you saw it was. Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro, and these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring on the 14th season of Family Secrets. And just then, we felt the plain turn in the air, so much so that the bags that were under people's seats just kind of flew into the aisle. Each week, we dive head first into the complex power of secrecy, how it shapes our identities and relationships,

and how it ultimately can reveal to us our truest selves. My daughter, she's pretending she doesn't know, but is trying to cook and feed me and keep me alive because I wasn't eating anything and me pretending like everything was fine. He kind of shoved me out of the way and said, move. And he went out the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off, and that was the last time I saw him.

Listen to season 14 of Family Secrets on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. How much you wait, wanted to write and write and Now I'm about 130. I'm at 183. We should race. No, I want to leave here with my original hips. On the podcast, The Matchup with Alia, I pair prominent female athletes with unexpected guests.

On a recent episode, I sat down with undisputed boxing champ, Coraes, and comedian Wanda Sykes, to talk about Wanda's new movie Undercard, the art of trash talk and what it really means to be ladylike. Open your free IHeart Radio app. Search the Matchup with Alia and listen now. Brought to you by Novartis, founding partner of IHeart Women's Sports Network. was hot and sticky. Even at 11 p.m.

as Stevie Ray Vaughn slid out of the back of a black limousine. Cameras flashed from every direction as he leaned against the silver walking stick and adjusted his dark sunglasses. He walked past the photographers and fans gathered outside the Hard Rock Cafe and he was immediately

swept into the building by a handler. The handler tried to direct him to a back table with a Hard Rock Cafe's owner, Iser Tigger, was chatting with Dan Ayershawood in some of his investors. But Stevie ignored his minder and headed straight for the bar. He managed to get a double crown on the rocks

before he was pulled away and towards the back table. Stevie knew he would need liquid fortification for this. And just a few hours ago, his band had bombed on stage at Dallas's Starfest. And now the last place he wanted to be was at this stupid party in a glorified gift shop. It had been three years since Stevie Ravon left David Bowie's tour and his debut album, Texas Flood, became an instant sensation.

It turned out that quitting the tour was great publicity. It gave him a rebellious image that played perfectly with the music. And suddenly, rock radio wasn't so afraid to play his music. Even MTV, but the band's video for pride and joy and heavy rotation. But follow-up hits were harder to come by. And after years of living the life, Stevie Ray Vaughn was finally starting to show it on stage. He drifted off in the long meandering. jam that he couldn't get out of.

He played songs in the wrong key or at the wrong tempo. And now, if people booed, it felt like they had a right to. There were very few things that could have dragged Stevie out of his hotel room that night. But one of those things was a guitar. And not just any guitar. A rare black Gibson Flying V that had been owned by Jimmy Hendricks. So Isaac Tigrat, the owner of Hard Rock Cafe, had promised Stevie that if he would make an appearance at the...

this VIP event, then he would let him check out Jimmy's guitar. And now, drink in hand, Stevie stumbled over to the circle where Isaac was holding court. Isaac tried to bring Stevie into the circle, but Stevie demanded to see the guitar first. And Isaac laughed in motion tune assistant. And a few minutes later, they walked up with a brown guitar case and handed it to Stevie. His heart was hammering, and not just from the cocaine. Stevie could feel the mojo coming off of the instrument before he even opened. the case.

And he flipped open the latches and lifted the left-handed guitar out of the case and flipped it upside down and backwards, like a reverse image of his mentor, Albert King. Then, he started picking up the Hendrik song, Little Wing. Isaac smiled and leaned in close next to Stevie as a photographer snapped a handful of pictures. But Stevie didn't even notice. He just played on, lost in his own world. While Stevie was playing, he heard Isaac mentioned something.

about taking the guitar for a session sometime. But with cocaine and Jimmy Hendricks on his brain, all Stevie Rayvon heard was, take the guitar. Yeah, that sounds great, Stevie replied to Isaac. And then he asked for the case, and they could just pop the guitar in there, and then Stevie would be on his way.

He watched as the smile melted off of Isaac's face. And as the assistant reached for the guitar, Stevie tightened his grip on it. Isaac tried to explain he only meant that Stevie could borrow the guitar at some point in the future. Stevie thought about making a run for it, but quickly realized it was hopeless. Finally, he shoved the guitar into Isaac's hands,

and he swore at the crowd of onlookers who were staring at him, knocked over a tray of drinks, and stormed out the front door. It was 1986, and Stevie Ravon was in such bad shape that he was losing touch with reality. Even fellow blues men were starting to notice. Buddy Guy pleaded with him to slow down.

Albert King said a drinker snored at home was fine, but the gig was no place to get high. Nothing worked. Even the voice of God didn't affect Stevie. Eric Clapton finally caught up with Stevie Ravon in a hotel while they were both on tour in Australia. Stevie was pouring shots down his throat with shaky hands and jabbering like a crazy person. Sadly, Eric Clapton just patted him on the back and said he hoped Stevie would make it through. That fall in Germany, he almost didn't. Stevie Ravon and his bandmate Tommy Shannon went out on a Sunday night looking for an aftershow drink. And every place was closed, so they kept walking further. But the more they walked, the more Stevie's stomach started killing him. He figured

he just needed a drink to straighten himself out. But then, he started puking up blood. And the next thing he knew, he was somehow back in his hotel. Blood and vomit were covering his chest. Tommy was screaming in English while three men were screaming back in German. And Stevie didn't know what the fuck was happening until one of them finally stuck an IV in his arm and they rushed him to the hospital. There, the doctors found the cause of the blood and ulcer caused by years of drinking cocaine. Stevie was almost suffering from near fatal levels of dehydration. And this brush with death was enough to convince Stevie Rayvon that things had to change. For so many years, he'd been all about playing the blues and living the life,

but it was becoming impossible to do both. So he would have to choose. And when Stevie Rayvon checked into rehab, no one expected it to stick. Not his bandmates, not his crew, not even his brother. But he surprised everyone by attacking sobriety with the same passion he tackled Albert King records with as a teenager. After his 40 days in rehab, Stevie Ravon dove into Alcoholics Anonymous and became his new ritual on tour.

Instead of roaming town looking to score drugs, he would find the hookup for AA meetings. And with his head clear and his body clean, his playing returned to form. And he was finally able to step fully into his own sound on songs like Crossfire, which blended soulful horns with great rhythm and blues in Stevie's signature searing guitar work. It was still the blues, but it sounded completely modern. The song became his first top the rock charts. Offstage, his new way of living the life, was inspiring other musicians, too. First, his bandmates got clean.

Then, stars like Bonnie Ray and even Eric Clapton, who after four years clean, had relapsed himself. And maybe that's why Eric Clapton was thinking about Stevie Ray Vaughn when he was looking for an opener for a pair of shows in the summer of 1990. They're at a gorgeous venue called Alpine Valley in Wisconsin. It had a great sound system and could hold over 30,000 fans. The only problem with the place was that it was only one road in and one road out. Most bands headed north or just waited the four or five hours it took for the crowd to clear out. And of course, some adrenaline junkies like to fly. A helicopter could make it to downtown Chicago in less than an hour.

And the Allman Brothers band refused to do it. They thought it was too dangerous. But Eric Clapton loved the rush, and he bet that Stevie Ray Vaughan would love the view. Stevie Rayvon pulled on his guitar string and sent the notes soaring into the heavens. The guitar felt like an extension of his body as he played with every bit of fire and passion left inside of him.

It had been an exhausting evening, but he didn't want it to end. Here he was, standing on the summit of Mount Olympus with some incredible guitar gods. And there was Robert Cray looking regal and black and gold. Stevie's old friend, Buddy Guy, wailing on his signature black and white polka dot Stratocaster. And Stevie's brother Jimmy was by his side. And of course, Eric Clapton, the man who was hosting the Olympic level jam, he was there too. And they had already been playing the blues classic sweet home Chicago for close to 20 minutes, but Stevie felt like he could go all night.

These days it wasn't the pills or the powder or the booze that were energizing him. It was nothing but just the music, blues music. When the song ended, Steve Ravon stood there an extra few minutes while everyone else shuffled off into the wings, like he was trying to soak up every last bit of the night. Later, he was supposed to take the bus back to Chicago after the show, and that meant he wouldn't arrive until around 4 a.m. And it was a busy travel day ahead after that.

Eric Clapton had chartered three helicopters to take him in his crew back to Chicago after the show. And when a spot opened up in one of them at the last minute, he offered it to Stevie. Stevie Ravon never thought twice about it. The extra hours of sleep sounded great. So he hugged his brother and jumped into the chopper. And as they lifted off away from the crowds, the lights of the parking lot were blinding. Fog was rolling in from the Great Lakes, but no one was worried. They just needed to clear a single hill and then the lights of downtown Chicago would come rushing into view. The pilot said they would see those lights in 15 minutes, Max.

Steve Ray Vaughan's eyes felt blurry from the fog and lights. He tried to look out the window, but his eyes hadn't adjusted yet. All he could see was blackness. And as the helicopter climbed upward, what neither he nor the pilot nor anyone on board knew was that the craft was slipping just a tiny bit off course. The pilot had made this trip dozens of times. But he was used to flying in the daytime, used to using his eyes rather than his instruments,

to help him stay on course. So the pilot never noticed as the helicopter drifted closer and closer to an oncoming hill. And just moments before, the lights of downtown Chicago were supposed to come rushing into view, the helicopter exploded into a giant fireball. Stevie Ray Vaughn and everyone else on board were killed instantly. After his tragic death, Stevie Ravon's legacy only continued to grow. There were tribute concerts and posthumous album releases.

And within a few years, the Hard Rock Cafe and Austin even bought one of his guitars and encased it in glass and stuck it on the wall next to one of Jimmy Hendricks' guitars. The guitar hung there for years, undisturbed, until 2001. That's when a hardcore band called The Icarus Line launched into a chaotic live set at the Hard Rock Cafe,

during the South by Southwest Music Festival. The band crushed it, and the crowd went berserk. Security was screaming at them, though, to turn the volume down. And as a set reached its climax, Aaron North, Icarus Lyon's guitar player, launched his mic stand like a javelin through the glass surrounding Stevie Ray Vaughn's Fender Stratocaster. Aaron North then snatched Stevie's guitar off the wall,

plugged it in in the middle of his set and attempted to start playing it before he was tackled by security, nearly starting a riot in the process. Because in Texas, you don't fuck with Stevie Ray Vaughn and you don't fuck with his guitars. Not in the Hard Rock Cafe anyway. In the Lone Star State,

Steve Rayvon is considered a deity, not to mention the best guitar player of all time, the guy at the top of the Mount Olympus of Guitar Gods. You don't bust open a glass case, grab Stevie Ray's guitar, plug it in during your set, start rocking out with it like it's nobody's business but your own, unless, of course, you have balls as big as Aaron North from the Icarus line.

And personally, I'm telling you this story because I think Stevie Rayvon would have appreciated the move. He would have understood it, even if the security guards at the Hard Rock Cafe and the locals didn't. But we can't ask Stevie Rayvon that. We can't ask Stevie Rayvon anything, because Stevie Rayvon was killed in a helicopter crash on August 27. 1970 as he was making some of the best music of his life. He was dead at just 35 years old. And that is a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan.

It's Disgraceland. All right, guys, thanks for checking up this episode of Disgraceland. Listen, the question of the week this week, because we're talking about Steve Ray Vaughn, obviously. Who is on your Mount Rushmore of guitarists? You can only pick four, okay? And if Poison Ivy from the Cramps isn't on that list, I don't know what to tell you. But get at me, 617-906-66-6638.

Leave a voicemail, send me a text. Let me know who's on your Mount Rushmore of guitar players. All right, you can also hit me up at Disgraceland Pod on the socials. Disgracelandpod at gmail.com. You want to email me again, 617-90666838 voicemail. And text, here comes some credits. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis, the Exactly Right Network, and IHeart Podcasts.

Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at disgracelandpod.com. If you're listening as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to disgracelandpod.com slash membership. Members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland ad free. Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at disgraceland pod and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at disgraceland pod rockerola.

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