Charlie Robison: In Memoriam

Texas has a long history of producing troubadours. We love our wandering and often tortured story poets; reminiscent of days lost to time, and memories the old folks used to talk about in the wee moments of late summertime, between sunset and twilight. Charlie Robison took his place amongst the fabled Texas troubadours even though he flirted with commercial success in Nashville a time or two. But he was a Texas boy. We all knew guys like Charlie, we saw them on Friday nights, around town. His relatable nature as a songwriter was part of his appeal. He passed on September 10, 2023 in San Antonio of complications from cardiac arrest. He was only 59.

Charlie was born September 1, 1964 in Houston, Texas as Charles Fitzgerald Robison. He was an aspiring football player, however, following a knee injury he left Southwest Texas State University and he found himself in nearby Austin. Working in several bands, Millionaire Playboys, Two Hoots and A Holler amongst others, his debut solo offering came about in 1996, Bandera. Two years later he followed it up with Life of The Party on Lucky Dog Records. This album gave us three regional hits including “My Hometown.” The record sort of branded him the next Robert Earl Keen, another Central Texas singer known for fun, party anthems. Incidentally, Bandera was the town outside San Antonio the Robison’s hailed from. His brother Bruce is also a singer and runs an artist management company, The Next Waltz. Bruce still performs and tours with his ex-wife Kelly.

Robison released more albums across several labels between 1998 and 2003. During this time, he was a judge on the first season of the singing competition TV Show, “Nashville Star.” Robison’s own star was setting in Nashville, but mostly by his own choices. I remember thinking he’d be the biggest name in Nashville when I first heard him in the late 1990s. In my defense, I had no idea how “Bro-Country” would take the world by storm, holding us hostage to the mundane, more commercial side of country music. Charlie was not happy about the direction the industry took at the time, or the creative restraints of Nashville record companies. This restlessness was common amongst many of the writers and performers in Central Texas who undoubtedly shaped his own voice and direction. 

Charlie moved to independent label Dualtone and released Good Times in 2004. He moved further away from the limitations of Nashville, performing and touring as he wanted, finding his own place in the world. He took on a more Southern Rock sound, meshing the genres unto a singular fusion, never again bound by the petty definitions of music dictated by dollar signs like the Nashville labels. He closed his professional circle and toured closer to home around various parts of Texas, with shows in neighboring states.

Beautiful Day was released in 2009 and was entirely self-produced. Live At Billy Bob’s followed in 2014 with High Life in 2013. Robison was remarkably prolific for a man who was known to be a rabble rouser and drinker.

In September 2018, Robison announced he was retiring due to complications from surgery. Sadly, he was unable to sing. A voice stolen. However, in 2022 he returned to the stage. It really felt he had much more to give us, and has been taken away far too soon. He wasn’t even yet 60, and still had that boyish smile fans came to love.

When I had the idea to write about Robison, it was in part to cover the death of an artist who was important to me. Sadly, the older I get, the more frequent it is that multiple artists I like pass each year. In earnest, I find myself lamenting not attending more concerts, or feeling shame I did not own all of Charlie’s music before this endeavor. If we can take only one lesson from the loss of this troubadour, let it be not to let opportunity pass us by. Life is here just a short time and promised to no one. We have only now, and tomorrow is just a myth yet unproven. 

The bleakness of a never ending and unforgiving winter has been recorded by Chekhov, Tolstoy, Hemmingway, Camus, and countless others. This can only be fully experienced as a complete absence of music. A life without music is truly the most bleak and empty coldness my heart can imagine. As dark as the last corner of hell and as cold as a scorned lovers embrace. 

Charlie left behind four children, three from his marriage to Emily Erwin of The Chicks (divorced 2008) and a son by his second wife. 

Listen to the music people, and never procrastinate. 

Featured photo by Dave Hansley 

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