INTERVIEW: Jim Campo of Magic Rockers of Texas
HOLIDAY HOOTENANNY | AUSTIN, TX| DECEMBER 2024 | BY RACHEL JOY THOMAS
Magic Rockers of Texas epitomize Austin’s indie rock scene. Playing venues across town for 10 years as a steadfast local group, the rockers have branded themselves with Texas both in their moniker, songs and even in their band identity.
Performing at the Holiday Hootenanny, the group exemplified momentum and good spirit while soundchecking, leading into a tantalizing performance with one ecstatic dancer in the crowd interpretively dancing to the rhythms. Jim Campo, the band’s leading frontman, brandished a duct taped Dillion Guitar for a fast-paced performance going through nearly every recent major addition to the group’s discography. Starting with 2024 single “Houston” and then moving toward every single off of the group’s 2023 album Life is a bowl of cherries… and all I got was stems! alongside two covers and some additional slower ballads. Despite Campo’s self criticism about having very similar introductions for each song, they offered completely different glimpses into the band’s vast capabilities.
Euphonic reporter Rachel Joy Thomas had the opportunity to speak with Jim Campo at the Holiday Hootenanny about politics, The Beatles, gentrification, and a mystery magic rockers blues band (most likely to be Luther "Guitar Junior" Johnson and the Magic Rockers).
I have a question that’s popping into my head that I have to ask first. You were performing with a guitar covered in duct tape and I have to know, what’s the story there?
Campo: Oh yeah, so that guitar is, it's technically called a Dillion. It's sort of like a Chinese knockoff of the 80s and 90s guitars. I got it from my friend, who I'm in another video with.
He sold it to me for about 80 bucks one night, because it just looks cool as shit. Anyway, I loved how it played. Now, it's kind of like a calling card for me, because it’s a silly-looking guitar, but I really love the way it plays.
We opened up for White Denim years ago, and during the entire show, the straps kept coming off. So, I just started duct taping it, and now it's part of the guitar’s story. I also put in the Zach Wilde pickups, the white and black ones, so I put about 450 bucks into an 80-dollar guitar.
Now, I'm stoked on it—I never want to play another guitar again.
Yeah, it matches my brand of trashiness, or whatever it is. Now, there's just tape on the guitar, and I find that the less I care about the guitar, the less likely it is to break. I just treat that thing like shit. And I feel like if I start really caring about it, something bad will happen. It’ll break the next time I talk or the neck will break or something like that.
It's like an omen. During the live performance, I was in the crowd watching the vibes of the show. You played a lot from your album and discography, covering almost every single you've released and you hit the nail on the head with the hard hitters and your slower songs. Tell me a bit about what today was like for you.
Campo: I got two in there. We said we were never going to play that (Tanya Tucker) cover unless our third guitar player, Mike Huff, who’s a founding member of the band, was with us. He and his wife moved to Connecticut when she got into Yale, so he’s not really playing with us anymore, but he’s always an (honorary) member.
When he left, we decided not to play that cover anymore. (We were) thinking of it as a chapter in time. But today, honestly, we burned through the set and I thought, “We’ve got to put something in there.” People like that Tanya Tucker song—it mentions Texas.
The first time we played it, I just heard it on the radio on the way to the grand pool hall where we were playing. I said, “Guys, it’s CG and F,” and they nailed it. It’s been a crowd favorite ever since, so we put it in there.
I noticed the little bit of conversation right before your track audiophile. Was that also an addition to your setlist?
Campo: It was in the set, but we skipped something because I realized how many guitar intros and me playing guitar and singing we have. I thought, “Man, that sucks. We need to change this.” I was thinking about everything in our repertoire and decided we need something that brings everyone in at the top. We have a reputation for dramatic pop or dramatic garage rock, and those intros definitely add to the dramatic aspect. So, I realized I need to get out of that habit.
I guess that leads into the question: Coming out of the Holiday Hootenanny and your performance today, what was your takeaway? That was one, but do you have any others?
Campo: My thought was that my band killed it. Not me, but the other guys: Chris Cuse on bass, McGarity Stanley on drums, and Will Grover on guitar. Two of those songs we had never played before, and we just recorded them on Monday and Tuesday with Stuart Sykes, who worked on tracks like “Seven Nation Army,” Good News for People Who Love Bad News, and Cat Power: The Greatest.
I was a little apprehensive about whether we’d nail those songs, but honestly, those guys did great. That’s probably my biggest takeaway: I can continue to count on them. They’re all in other bands too, so it’s hard to find a core group that’s fully dedicated to your songs like it’s their own band. It’s kind of my band, but it’s all of our bands, and all the members have ownership of it.
It’s just hard to find people in Austin who will give your music the same attention they give their own bands, especially when those other bands might be more successful. I was so stoked that they nailed it today.
The third song you played was a new track, 'I'm a Cop.’ I immediately noticed that it has an existential nihilistic tone to it. What's the song’s message, if you don’t mind me asking? Is it about anything in particular, or is it more anti-authoritarian in nature?
Campo: I mean, it's definitely anti-cop because the verses are all sarcastic and about whatever. Yeah, I’m anti-cop. But I wrote that years ago, and I delayed recording it because I wasn’t sure if the world needed another cis white dude bitching about cops.
But at the end of the day, if it shows even a little bit of solidarity, then I stand for that. Honestly, I think I wrote it during COVID, around the time of the Mike Brown thing, when everyone was demonstrating downtown in Austin. It was a little tongue-in-cheek at first, but as time goes on and our existence becomes more dismal, living in a police state and all, the message feels more relevant.
So yeah, that’s what the song’s about. It's pretty black and white, honestly—there’s not a whole lot of hidden meaning in “I'm a Cop.” It's short, but I'm confident in saying that Magic Rockers of Texas is against the 5-0.
But, you know, I want to avoid looking like— I don't know. It’s the same thing with the Trump thing. I was hosting karaoke on election night, looking at my phone, getting pretty drunk at Hole in the Wall. And I took it so personally when Trump was winning. I was a little embarrassed the next day because I was talking shit on the mic, asking people who they voted for.
Honestly, as a white man, I stand to lose the least from all this heinous bullshit happening in politics, especially in Texas with Ted Cruz. So, I don't want to be perceived as— I’m not sure what the word is, but I don’t want to come off like… Maybe I’m not the face that needs to be on any message like that, you know? My life is probably going to continue being a little privileged because I’m a white man in Texas.
Your heart hurts for what you know other people are going to experience.
Campo: 100%
I had to explain that to someone the other day: the reality is that there are going to be people who probably are going to suffer.
Campo: Oh, it's horrible. There’s horrible shit happening now. And yeah, most of it doesn’t even— I mean, some of it has to do with cops, I guess, with the song. But yeah, it’s a nightmare.
Yeah, and I guess, from Hotel Vegas to Tanya Tucker to pretty much everything—every little nuance I’ve noticed while studying y’all—there’s always a little bit of Texas creeping in. Even when I’m watching you perform live, which is my first time seeing y’all live, I noticed your tattoo that says 'Since 1845.'
Campo: So that was on the Lone Star can, and then they changed the year to when Texas joined the U.S., in 1845, I think—though I might be wrong about that. I literally just got this tattoo because it was on the Lone Star can from a guy named Leopard Larry. Rest in peace. He had leopard tattoos all over his body.
But yeah, when we started the band in 2015, it was a little tongue-in-cheek because, as much as I truly love Texas, it’s politically a largely backwards state. So, it was like trying to own some of the redneck culture but make it cooler, more fun, and less... whatever other negative connotations Texas brings to mind for people outside the state. Still, I wanted to stay true to my roots—I'm from Dallas, and I moved here in 2010. I love the Cowboys, and half my family is country as hell, so I still like all that stuff.
But as time goes on, you’ve got to... if I move, which I might in September, I’m keeping the band name because I think it's funny and cool. The band is named after a shirt I got from Goodwill that says 'Magic Rockers of Texas' on it. I probably got it in 2012. After my old band, Berkshire Hounds, broke up, I couldn’t think of a good band name. I looked at that shirt, Googled it—nothing came up for 'Magic Rockers of Texas.' So I took it, and we’ve been riding that ever since. There’s (another) band that’s like 'Someone’s Name and the Magic Rockers,' (it’s) a blues band somewhere in Texas. I don’t know them, but they’re good.
You performed “Graveyard” today as well. I wanted to ask a question specifically about that song. Not to echo what others have said, but I noticed a really interesting comment on Bandcamp comparing it to the Beatles White album. I immediately noticed something similar when I was listening—the dual guitars coming in together and creating this beautiful harmony.
Campo: Yeah. Jeff Olsen (said that). That's my buddy. (The Beatles) is definitely my favorite album ever. The Beatles are my favorite band ever, 'cause I'm fucking obsessed with them. I like a lot of underground stuff, or whatever obscure, cool hipster shit too, and always have. (It's not like) I sit around listening to The Beatles all the time now, but they were hugely influential to me growing up.
I think everyone, (anyone) who's saying, ‘Oh yeah, I don't fuck with The Beatles,’ is a fucking liar. Especially (the) White Album. It's relaxing. It touches so many different sonic elements. I mean, it's honestly, John, it's not even really genre-specific, but everything they put out is sort of like rock and roll. (Not to overuse that phrase,) but they're a rock band, but everything, like "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da," sonically and in the performances, they're fucking punk. Yeah. The Beatles are my favorite band, and Led Zeppelin is my favorite rock band. After that, the list gets more interesting. But the top is certainly that. In my mind, there's no question they're the best band ever. So, a lot of White Album influences. Our next album is also supposed to be like 16 or 17 tracks long.
I'm obsessed with that. I love that album. So we're trying to do a little bit of a White Album thing, where there'll be some interstitials and short songs. Maybe some of them are kind of... you know, (they’re) not deliberately trying to be funny or anything—just an interesting sort of art piece of an album.
I think the White Album's a cornerstone of that whole thing, you know? In fact, Robin the Hood, Sublime, (are) the same way. Hot Take. But yeah.
I guess off-kilter, (if you're thinking about) a move in September, with regard to maybe getting out of Texas, maybe getting away from the current climate as it stands, I would imagine. What is that place for your next White album, conceptually? What is that going to do with regard to the band's future?
A little off-kilter, but if you're planning a move in September, possibly for politics or other reasons, what are you thinking about for the band’s future?
So, here’s what's going on with the band right now: as much as I think Texas politics are super fucked up, that’s not really the reason I’m moving. It’s more about the fact that I’ve been here for almost 15 years. Things change, and Austin is still my favorite city ever, but as rent increases and clubs and venues I love close or are replaced, there’s the gentrification of Austin.
I’m finding myself so jaded that I don’t feel like I’m contributing any positivity to the Austin scene, even though I support a lot of great bands and there are still good venues. But I need a break. I need to get bummed out by another scene, slowly.
Everyone I know in major cities across America is saying the same thing: no one knows how to get people to your shows if you're a local band. My band is the epitome of a local band. We went on our first tour to New York in July, and we've been a band for nine years but never went north of Nashville. It was the first time our drummer had ever been north of Nashville. So, I'm moving essentially to get a fresh perspective. I’m looking at Philly and New York, but I just don’t want to be jaded anymore. I’ve lived here for a long time, and I don’t want to be a negative Nancy about the Austin music scene. I’d rather be someone who's excited to be in a new scene, make new friends, and experience a different music scene for a bit. Then, I can come back and see Austin for what it really is.
Right now, I just feel a little down on the industry, not the music itself. I’m not down on the music scene in Austin, but I am down on the industry. I was doing music for a living for years, and now everything has changed. I’m also a booker, so I see both sides of it. Things that used to be easy—bands selling out shows—aren’t happening anymore.
I don’t think it’s the bands’ fault, and I don’t think it’s the venues’ fault either. It’s just a cultural shift in the music industry. You have bands that have been together for less than a year, blowing up on TikTok, and selling out theaters. We just didn’t catch that wave. So, I’d rather try something new somewhere else for a bit. I’ll probably end up back here, though, because everyone does.
Yeah, of course. It reminds me of your album title, Life’s a bowl of cherries, and all I got was the stems and how full circle that is. It just reminds me of that feeling in the world right now. I notice a percolating melancholy on that album for some tracks.
Campo: Yeah, that was another tongue-in-cheek title for the album, just feeding into the parody of myself. Everyone knows I’m a shit talker, and I’m not always the most positive person, so that was kind of playing into that joke. I like my life and everything, but it was definitely a joke. It was also a play on the Iron Maiden thing, with albums that have ellipses in the middle. Or... wait, am I thinking of Iron Maiden? Who does Killing Is My Business... and Business Is Good? Oh, right, Megadeth. Sorry, it's Megadeth.
Or Fiona Apple’s When The Pawn…
Campo: When the Pawn… That shit is dope. That’s the one with the red cover.
You’ve also got your red cover album! But as a closing note, what’s something that you people don’t ask you about being a professional musician that you wish you’d get asked?
Campo: I mean, I wish someone would ask me, ‘Do you want a booking agent?’ I have a booking agent, and I’m also a booking agent, and I want to work for you. Will you allow me to do that? Because that’s the whole deal.
I told the band that, in September, we’ll have been together for 10 years. If we can’t even get a booking agent and start playing with bigger bands on tour or something like that, the guys in the band are having kids and getting older. They’re living their lives, and I don’t want to be a hindrance to that. I’ve given up everything else in my life to pursue this silly dream.
So, yeah. As far as an interview question, I don’t know. That’s a hard one.
What do you want people to see about the sound?
Our music started with the idea of making extremely catchy songs that are kind of sloppy, loud, and have a bit of a punk aesthetic.
It’s this concept I’m obsessed with—what I call "dumb smart music." It’s like, a band could do so much more, get more proggy, more complex lyrically, use big college words, but instead, they choose to keep things simple and hold back musically. Not to make it more accessible, but to keep it in this sweet spot of simplicity.
My goal with this band has always been to write songs that sound like someone else should have written them a long time ago. You know, songs that sound so familiar and simple that you wonder how no one else has already done it. It’s not complex, but it feels like it should be a classic.
What I enjoy about my own band is that we could push to do more. We have the talent to get more complex, practice every week, and do math rock stuff. But I like keeping it simple—just a silly rock and roll band, because that’s the kind of music I love. But I don’t know. If someone asked me something and then I responded like that, that would be a good thing.