Troy Dillinger
Musician-turned-actor-turned-activist wants to "Save Austin Music"
Sean O'Neal
Troy shows his city some love
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Welcome to Scene Captains, spotlighting some of the unheralded faces and names of Austin’s nightlife. They’re the bouncers who put up with your shit, the bookers and programmers who make sure you have a good time, or just that one guitarist you’ve seen in 10 different bands. They may not always be the most important people in the room, but without them Austin would surely suck. This edition: Musician, actor, filmmaker, and Austin Swim host Troy Dillinger.
Troy Dillinger has haunted the corners of the Austin scene since the early ’80s, whether fronting roots-rockers Del Dragons, hosting the weekly viewing party-cum-variety show Austin Swim, or turning up in the background of films like Miss Congeniality. Recently Dillinger made headlines for organizing The Year Of Austin Music, a non-profit advocacy campaign whose intention is to keep local musicians from being pushed out of town due to skyrocketing cost of living. Its mission is simple: Get audiences to see one Austin band a month, thereby encouraging them to stick around. Decider spoke with Dillinger about his latest supporting role.
Decider: Is this is a dire period for Austin music?
Troy Dillinger: Absolutely. As far as our collective soul, it’s a really thin time. You can’t make a good living playing in Austin. Ultimately, if you’re in the music industry now, you’ve got to get out. The problem is people are getting out and not coming back. It used to be that this was a great place to be off the road, where you could still make enough playing to get by. That’s changed. The Austin conflict has always meant keeping it cheap and laidback enough to keep the creative people here, but keeping it motivated enough that it continues to grow. Now that we’ve got an influx of people because of that reputation, that “laidback” attitude seems to be thinning out.
D: You’ve already caught the ear of the mayor, who established the Live Music Task Force to find ways that the city can help the music scene. Do you think it can—or even should?
TD: All of our problems can’t be fixed by the city, but the little bit that can, we really need them to get serious about. Other cities that have heavy concentrations of musicians, all of them put us to shame in terms of what they’re doing to support music. New Orleans, Chicago, New York, L.A.—these places have music offices and spend city funds on live music. We’ve fallen under the agendas of special interests. Big business and neighborhood groups, they run the show. Everybody in between is hard-pressed to stand up for themselves. The problem with the music industry is we’ve never come to the table and said, “We’re part of the city. Here’s what we want.” Then we cry foul when others make rules for us.
D: What’s the first thing that needs to happen?
TD: Get Austinites into clubs. Whenever music is our number-one pastime, the city’s harmonious, our economy’s good, our music is great. When our industry does well, our artists are creative, and we carry that around the world. It’s not happening now. A lot of our music is suffering from lack of originality. Musicians are working hard to get their bills paid, so they’re not writing good music, not rehearsing as much, not bringing as much energy.
D: A lot of people on Red River would disagree.
TD: I think Red River is vital, but that scene could and should be five to 10 times what it is. Yes, there are great bands down there, but not enough infrastructure to support it. It should be Monday through Sunday, two or three great bands on a bill every night, and there should be more than 30 people at a show on a weeknight. This is the Austin curse: We get near breaking even, and we’re comfortable. It’s like we shoot for mediocrity. The problem is there’s less than 10 clubs in town that are doing okay, and less than five that are doing well. We want to get anyone and everyone between 21 and 51 out into those clubs.
D: How do you bridge that gap?
TD: When I was coming up, you saw old people and young people side by side in the Continental one night, Hole In The Wall next night, Liberty Lunch the next. Part of the problem is clubs started booking timeslots and not building the scene. What Transmission’s doing at the Mohawk is a model, and there could be another dozen clubs like that. How do you get people off their asses and into clubs? That’s the big question. Bridging the gap means saying, “There’s something exciting going on, and you belong here.” Getting people to understand that the music they listen to, at one time it could be found on Red River or at the Continental. As we encourage music as a lifestyle, we’ll see that demographic blur. We’ll see younger people going to see “old people” bands, and vice versa.
AVC: You’re always fighting these sorts of uphill battles. Like Austin Swim, which received a cease-and-desist from Cartoon Network and has been kicked from venue to venue, yet you’ve always pressed on. Why?
TD: It’s equal parts self-interest and my insane desire to entertain people. I pretty much will go to any lengths to do that. I’m entertaining, and I’m trying to indoctrinate new Austinites. There’s no money in either of those, and I’m a poor man. [Laughs.] But when I take care of my fellows, and I do what my heart asks, I get through.
