About Lloyd

 
name:
Lloyd Maines
age:
62
location:
Austin,Texas
job:
Music Producer
likes:
The Simpson
family guy
King of the Hill
Fishing with Grandkids


Lloyd Wayne Maines

Lloyd Wayne Maines, born on June 28, 1951, was the first of five kids Edith and James Maines would bring into the flat, dusty, windy little world of Lubbock, Texas. A place so flat, some claim that when you look off into the horizon on a clear day, you can see the back of your head. From tot to teen, Lloyd spent many an afternoon listening to the honky-tonk music of his Dad's band, The Maines Brothers, and the inspirational pedal steel guitar playing of Frank Carter, Wally Moyers Sr. and Bob Stuffelbeme. It was Bob, in fact, who crafted Lloyd's first pedal steel and nurtured his interest in the instrument. At the age of 14, while most teenage boys were pulling the wings off flies, Lloyd and his brothers played their first gig at the VFW hall in

Slaton, Texas. Following in the footsteps of their father, they called

themselves ... you guessed it ... The Maines Brothers.


When not honing his pedal steel chops with his brothers, Lloyd, as Captain of the Roosevelt High School football team, would lace up a pair of cleats, put on a helmet and attempt to leave each game with fingers and bones intact. Upon graduation, Lloyd married his high school sweetheart and life-long partner, Tina. A few years later they had two girls, Kim and Natalie. Lloyd went to college at Texas Tech University and studied agriculture and forestry. His decision to pursue a career in music instead would eventually effect the lives of many people, including my own.


In the early '70s, Lloyd met Joe Ely. Having heard Joe with The Flatlanders, Lloyd agreed to aid him in his musical quest to play just enough weekly band gigs, and earn just enough money at the Main Street Saloon, to get Joe a ticket out of Lubbock. Thus began the launch of the infamous Joe Ely Band, and with it, Lloyd's ticket out of Lubbock, too. From their legendary shows at The Cotton Club, perched on the outskirts of the Lubbock skyline, to packed, sweaty punk clubs in England, the Joe Ely Band won fans around the world - including the famed British punk band The Clash, who invited the

Lubbock boys to tour with them. As Joe's following spread across the continent and across the sea, so did Lloyd's reputation as a steel guitarist to be reckoned with. (If you've never heard "Live Shots," the band's 1980 live album featuring some of the most terrifying pedal steel playing ever caught on tape, stop reading for a moment, skip your mouse over to  www.lonestarmusic.com  and order a copy. Then come right back. I'll wait. You'll thank me!)


When not on the road with Joe, Lloyd picked up more and more studio work. Further mastering his trade with each completed project, he found himself enjoying working behind the scenes, off stage, as a cohesive force in helping people put their music together. An artist named Paul Milosevich introduced Lloyd to Terry Allen, another Lubbock boy whose lyrically motivated, keyboard driven music was some of the first original material Lloyd had the opportunity to produce. At session's end, a lifelong friendship had been born, as well as Allen's critically acclaimed 1979 album, "Lubbock (On Everything)." (If you haven't heard that album, either

... you know what to do.) With plenty of star-struck musicians ready to roll tape at Caldwell Studios, Lloyd quit touring steadily with Joe Ely in 1980 to focus more on his family and his production abilities. Around the same time, things started to take off with The Maines Brothers Band, but they were all married and had kids, so as a rule, they made an effort not to be on the road away from their families for any longer than 10 days at a time. Eventually, after building up a monstrous fan base with a good run of sold-out shows and considerable radio success, The Maines Brothers traded in their tour bus keys for different occupations, and Lloyd returned as fast as

he could back into the studio.


When Caldwell Studios was sold in the mid-'90s, Lloyd's production work continued to increase in Austin (with everyone from Jerry Jeff Walker to the Lost Gonzo Band to Robert Earl Keen). As it did, my work continued to increase regionally. From 1990 to 1996, I plugged my Peavy XR600 into what seemed like every electrical outlet across my native state. In doing so, I built up a loyal following, and sold around 3,000 copies of my first album, "Two Dollar Shoes." That wet my appetite, and I was ready to get back into the studio. As luck - or rather, fate - would have it, a management company I was involved with at the time was in the process of working with Lloyd. I

had also done some demos at a San Marcos studio called The Fire Station, and Bobby Arnold, an engineer there, gave Lloyd a copy of my cassette. I met Lloyd at the studio for the first time in late 1996. Bobby encouraged me to follow through. He said, "Lloyd won't rip you off." Those were the golden words for me. I borrowed money, emptied my savings account, and asked Lloyd if he would produce my second album, "Wilory Farm." He said ... "OK."


I'll never forget my first day in the studio with Lloyd. He was lining up the musicians that would play on my record. One of the musicians Lloyd called was an accordion player who had played with me from time to time. But the guy was quite disturbed with me that I "needed" a producer and that I felt he "needed" to be produced, too. "Oh, just go get Ponty Bone to do my part!" he told Lloyd flippantly over the phone. To which Lloyd replied: "As a matter of fact, I will." End of story. Little did he know that Lloyd knew

Ponty Bone very well, as they had played in Ely's band together! That day marked a new beginning for me. As Lloyd saw how hard I worked and the potential of what would become Wilory Records, I realized how secure I could be in letting him watch guard over the parts of my business in which he judged me to be "gullible as a goose." (I assume that's an old Lubbock expression. Are geese particularly gullible as fowl go? As compared to savvy ducks?) Regardless ... we became business partners, and from "Wilory Farm"

to today, Lloyd's slowly become a part of my family, and he's welcomed me into his in return. Over the past eight years, I've come to cherish his family. I have yet to meet a family more steadfast in their love for one another. As surreal situations in 2003 unraveled in regards to his daughter, I watched them delicately fold around each other  in a warm embrace. There was no hostility. No anger. No backstabbing. Just pure love. As others used the situation for gossip and even personal gain, I watched them each take the high road.


This Father's Day, I celebrate Lloyd Maines. For unselfishly giving of

himself musically. For being a leader, but still being willing to learn new things from others and himself every time he goes into the studio or out on the road. For believing in others when they don't believe in themselves, and for bringing out the best in all musicians in spite of their abilities and inhibitions. For treating everyone equal and for playing just what every song needs. For inspiring songwriters and fans of music. For producing my records, working so hard with me and for making me play in time (and in tune). For his uncanny ability to figure out the most insane travel arrangements - by plane, train and automobile - practically in his head. For finally realizing that frost on a car window is a good indication that the car is too cold for me in the passenger seat. And above all, for always putting his family before his own needs.


I recently asked Lloyd what being a father meant to him. He said it's

responsibility, gratification and splitting his heart into more and more pieces to pass around. He thinks about his family every day. I've been traveling with him for some time, and his cell phone is never far from his reach. He checks his messages more times each day than I've ever been able to count. Always caring, concerned, loyal and steadfast. And to those that have the good fortune of knowing him, that's what *really* makes this man a legend.


Terri Hendrix