Sam's Burger Joint Presents:
Dalton Domino & John Baumann
Thu, December 27, 2018
Doors: 7:30 pm / Show: 8:30 pmSam's Burger Joint
$10.00 - $40.00
This event is 18 and over
NO Seating GUARANTEED. Any Seating Available is on a First Come, First Served Basis. NO REFUNDS all sales final.
All Minors Will Be Charged an Additional $5 At the Door. 17 & Under Admitted with Parent or Guardian Only. - $10 Advance/ $13 Day of Show/ $40 Reserved Boothhttp://www.samsburgerjoint.com/event/1779592/
That person — the man with whom he was long fighting an internal battle — is a decidedly complex one. For years Domino struggled with drug and alcohol addiction. When he started writing the songs that would end up comprising Corners, the now-27-year-old simultaneously made the decision to begin embracing a life of sobriety. "Writing this record helped me get out of a really dark place," the singer, who cut his teeth in the no-nonsense Lubbock singer-songwriter scene, says of an album rife with genteel sensitivity and road-weary wisdom, and one that plumbs the depths of the asphalt-soaked vocalist's emotional roller coaster of a life. "If it helps somebody else," he says of the album, released one year to the date since he got sober, "then I know I did my job."
For Domino, Corners represents a bloodletting, an outpouring of pent-up emotion. He'd previously written a different album, and one he says may have had commercial success if ever released. "But then I realized the record is not what I want to say," he admits. To that end, his pen spares no one on record. "Mine Again (I'd Be A Fool)" charts a failed romantic relationship brought down by Domino's alcoholism ("It's making amends with somebody and wishing you could go back and rebuild a friendship that you screwed up," he says of the song); "Decent Man" recounts a particularly rowdy night that ended with Domino in handcuffs. And the title track, Domino says, is the most honest he's been ever been in song to "I'm not praying for acceptance and if forgiveness never comes I'll understand," he sings over shimmering acoustic guitar alongside chart-topping country singer Jack Ingram.
Born in Memphis, Domino was raised on a steady diet of varying musical genres, ranging from George Jones to Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis. He proudly recalls his grandmother walking around the house singing church hymns. Domino moved several times throughout his childhood, always on the move, taking up residence in cities like Las Vegas and Lubbock. "It helped me a lot with the life I live now as a touring musician," he says. "And it helped a lot with my writing. I'm always restless. I learned real quick that people come and go." As a teenager he gravitated towards the punk-rock scene, playing in bands, drawn in by the speed "and the rawness of the lyrics." But not until he moved to Lubbock, however, and started frequenting the Blue Light in the city's historic Depot District, did Domino find his true voice as a songwriter. "Out in Lubbock, man, if you're not a good songwriter then they treat you like shit," he says with a laugh. "You have to be able to have a story with your song or they'll think you're a joke." Domino was instantly transfixed by the local musicians whom he befriended. "It took me hanging around with those guys for a year and a half to realize I needed to get my shit together. I really started digging into records and thought, ‘This is what I really like about this song.'"
A San Antonio native who has also called Amarillo, Lubbock, Fort Worth, and now Austin his home at some point or another in his young life, Baumann tinkered with the mechanics of songwriting in between college and day jobs for several years before making the leap of faith to record a debut EP West Texas Vernacular in 2012. Released with little fanfare, it still emboldened him to piece together a band and hit whatever stages would give him the chance. The personable young musician honed his craft on the way up, making connections within the business (not to mention with thousands of fans) en route to releasing his full-length 2014 album High Plains Alchemy and landing coveted opening slots at some of the state’s most revered venues. At Gruene Hall, Floore’s Country Store, and the Nutty Brown Amphitheater, among many others, he has shared the stage with red-hot headliners like the Turnpike Troubadours and the Randy Rogers Band.
As Baumann’s music came into its own – a follow-up 2015 EP, Departures, garnered him some radio play for new signature songs like “Bay City Blues” and “Vices” – a clearer picture of what he is going for has emerged. Like his heroes including Texas songwriters Robert Earl Keen, James McMurtry, and Adam Carroll, he has cultivated a gift for near-journalistic lyrical detail, leavened with humor and spiked with heartache. His songwriting talents have garnered co-writes with artists including Pat Green, Cory Morrow and Wade Bowen that he was once content to just enjoy on a fan level: not insignificantly, Morrow included three co-writes with Baumann on his recent album The Good Fight. Even the country music mainstream took notice: Baumann’s poetic “Gulf Moon” was on hold for a platinum-selling country artist for several years before a last-minute change of direction handed him a rare disappointment in a still-new career that has otherwise been steadily on the rise.
Still, 2016 was overall a solid year, including a run of shows opening for Texas music’s ultimate hero Willie Nelson and laying the groundwork for what should be a much-anticipated 2017 full-length album. With his growing crowd of fans, peers, and even a few musical forefathers rooting for him, John Baumann has become one of the newest worthy links in the long chain of ambitious, progressive, and relatable artists that plays the singer-songwriter-performer game by their own rules.
Sam's Burger Joint
330 East Grayson Street
San Antonio, TX, 78215