Singer-songwriter Afton Wolfe has delivered his share of epic tour journals for Glide Magazine over the years, offering raw and insightful glimpses into the life of a truly independent musician — no tour manager, no bus, no roadies, and never a guaranteed place to sleep.
Wolfe stands among the country’s most valuable troubadours, blending Americana, blues, country, jazz, and rock into songs that reflect the full spectrum of life and beyond. With his gravelly voice and deep musical knowledge, Wolfe is the anti-pop star in the most treasured sense.
Wherever he goes, Wolfe has a gift for uncovering the most authentic places to eat, drink, and play music in each town he visits. Staying humble and balancing his “day job” even while on tour, he plays for the greater good, bringing his heartfelt gospel to outposts as remote as Terlingua, Texas.
Now, the man himself returns to bless us with yet another installment of the internet’s finest tour journal..
If you want to understand why this Tour was called “Southern Pisces,” it’s most convolutedly explained here. But, in a nutshell, I’m releasing all of the songs for my upcoming album Ophiuchus as the sun passes through each constellation (the sun’s path through the constellations is traditionally known as the Zodiac) – not when the conventional horoscope says that the signs occur; that’s all based on where the stars were a couple hundred years ago, and it’s different now.
This tour began on March 28, which is actually the day that the sun crossed into a very obscure constellation called Cetus (the Whale). It was the day that I released an equally obscure addition to my own catalogue – a remix of “So Purple” (originally composed by myself and Seth Fox) by Nashville Artist and Producer Jack Vinoy, which features a Verse by Brian Brown, one of Nashville’s most veteran and accomplished Emcees. The Night before, Brian appeared with Joy Oladokun on stage at the Mother Church (Ryman Auditorium for those unfamiliar with the reverence/reference) performing a song he wrote with/for her – a banger titled “Hollywood.” But the sun only stays in Cetus for two days before returning to Pisces, where it first crossed into on March 12. So the vast majority of the Tour happened while the Sun was in Pisces.
Tour Preparation – I recently purchased a used Chevrolet 1500 passenger van. Her name is Etta. I made a checklist. I packed a suitcase, a toiletry bag, merchandise (stickers, shirts, CDs, vinyls), a bag of dry groceries and snacks, some assorted supplements and medications, around a gallon of homemade cold brew with a large bottle of almond milk and a small squirt container of simple syrup, a couple of baseball gloves I hoped we’d get time to play with, a bag of cords, pedals and cables, and my Seagull Tuxedo Artist Acoustic Guitar. Her name is Bernie, short for Bernadette. I also have a computer bag, where I store my work computer, my personal and music computers, and a couple of books and notebooks. And I also brought all the quarters I had in my change cup at Home (totaling $15.25), hoping I might run into some pinball machines or other types of arcade settings, or at least have some if I needed them for emergency laundry along the way.
Though for this run, I was pretty confident I wouldn’t need them for that. Even though this was my first time in Texas as a solo artist (with my trio, who are essential to my ability to engage the songs optimally), I was helped by a lot of friends who offered their homes for a brief moment of shelter. Arranging accommodations is also a huge part of preparing for the Tour, along with booking the shows, mailing posters, adding the shows to websites and social media, and then double-checking everything. And mistakes and oversights still happen.
3/28 – With myself, Ernie Escalera on the upright bass, and the aforementioned Seth Fox playing his usual “divorcée garage sale” multi-instrumental haul of flute, saxophone, and electric guitar, the tour run began in Memphis, which is a wonderful city. However, until Friday, March 28, 2025, I had never had a particularly great time in Memphis as an artist. This was different.
3/29 – The next stop was Cleveland, Mississippi. We awoke to a gentle Memphis rain, and Cleveland is not too far from Memphis (roughly two hours), but Clarksdale, Mississippi – one of the most important places on Earth – is right between them. Seth and Ernie had never been to Clarksdale, and I had to remedy that if I could. We didn’t have enough time to do much, other than walk around a little. But in that time, we stopped by Deak Harp’s Harmonica shop and watched Deak polish off some catfish. We stopped by Cat Head and dropped off some U.S. currency in exchange for some awesome souvenirs, and we went to Bluestown Guitars to see Ronnie Drew. I ended up buying a new (to me) guitar, and a used (in this case Frankensteined – a “parts” Guitar) guitar in Clarksdale, Mississippi could be no big deal, or it could be a bona fide Voodoo doll played by some real-life angel or demon.
After leaving Clarksdale, we drove on to Cleveland. Actually, the venue itself is in a slightly smaller town called Merigold, Mississippi, but they’re very close to each other. The main demarcation that I can tell is that where we played, Hey Joe’s 2, is in Merigold, and the original Hey Joe’s is in Cleveland. And Cleveland has a University (Delta State University). We played after Craig Adams, a local and excellent singer/songwriter, performed. With Seth’s saxophone, it was a much better performance, and the crowd was locked in. Afterwards, Ernie and Seth went back to our Airbnb in Cleveland, and I went out with Craig and some new friends to a college bar, celebrating its final night open, so that was a unique experience. I felt like an old narc in this very typical DJ-fueled bar that I’m sure was closing because it was giving away drinks or selling them to minors. If you know how those places feel, you understand. If you don’t, well congratulations on your innocent life.
3/30 – On our way to the next show, the tire pressure light on Etta came on. The air pump we tried to use didn’t seem to be working, or the tire was losing pressure rapidly. So we stopped at a tire store (shout out to NDS for quick attention on a busy day). Turns out that Etta (whom I’ve owned for only a couple of months) was riding on tires that were overinflated. We got that sorted out (while I was very patient and optimistic somehow), and we drove on to Little Rock. The accommodations there were at the Courtyard Marriott, and the venue was Southern Tails Brewing. So, after we checked in, we headed down to Southern Tails. We had to use the small PA system we brought, and there was some consternation over whether to play inside or outside. Most people were outside, but there was a fluctuating chance of rain. I didn’t want to make the decision because I can’t predict the weather, and I’ve never been to Little Rock on purpose, if at all. We ultimately decided to take the show outside, and other than a brief sprinkle, everything went fine. The space outside was spread out, and there were several dogs. It wasn’t an intimate experience, but it was still a nice day, and we had a good performance. Afterwards, we had delicious food there. Highly recommend the sandwiches and beer.
3/31 – Before the driving day, I hit the hotel’s gym. I aspired to do this regularly on this tour run, but this would be the first, last and only day that it would happen. We drove into Austin, and I queued up “Dublin Blues” as we crossed into ATX, like the sun crossing into a Constellation. “I am just a poor boy. Work’s my middle name. If money was the reason, I would not be the same.”
4/1 – Not a driving day or a show day. Just a day off, except for the job. We settled into our living quarters for the week – the home of my dear friend Courtney Santana. Our gratitude cannot be overstated. She let us stay there all week. Angel. We tried our best to be courteous guests, but three dudes in a lovely single woman’s home is an imposition. She let me use her office for my own work, and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been so productive as I was that week for the paying job. Ernie took advantage of the day off and went to Houston to watch his team – the San Francisco Giants – play the Houston Astros. Seth bandied about Austin in coffee shops and climbing gyms and such and then went to see some amazing band I didn’t pay attention to, so I wouldn’t resent him. I worked, so I could afford to do this.
4/2 – Another day off. My hips were sore, and the pollen in Austin had my sinuses in a fit – so much so that I’d actually coughed and sneezed myself into knots in my neck and chest. So I hired a masseuse. Expensive but worth it. Again, I took advantage of the day off and worked my remote job that pays money. Afterwards, I went to Matt’s El Rancho to meet some friends and eat a ribeye (when in Texas…) before going to watch my friend Jaimee Harris celebrate her birthday by playing Emmylou Harris’ classic album Wrecking Ball. It was a special and beautiful show, and I coincidentally ran into Bonnie Whitmore, who I’d be swapping songs with the next night, even sitting at the table with her at Captain Quack’s for Jaimee’s stellar performance. I gave Jaimee and Mary hugs and got back to Courtney’s place to rest.
4/3 – See, I am a crazy, lucky human. I didn’t know Bonnie, but because of my friendship with Jaimee, who is beloved everywhere for her charm, wit, and especially talent, I was introduced to Graham Weber of the great Austin-based Roots rock band Restos. Graham is a gem of a human with a generous spirit, and he helped me arrange the two incredible appearances in Austin. The first of those was at The Gallery at the Continental. The room is fantastic – intimate, homey, and very clearly set up to focus on the musicians performing. I joined Bonnie Whitmore in her residency titled “Bonnie Whitmore and Her Friends” for a song swap, and it was a genuine blast. She’s a powerhouse performer with really well-crafted and thoughtful songs, all with effortless power in her voice, and undeniable chops on guitar, bass, and her 8-string bass, which she played on “So Purple” with me. It was an honor, and Seth got up and played some flute with us too – a recurring theme for four years and this tour.
Afterwards, Courtney took us to a luxurious dinner at Perla and insisted on treating us, even though we were already crossing over from gratitude to guilt at her generosity. And afterwards, Ernie retired to rest, and Courtney, Seth, and I went back to the Gallery to see some of the best musicianship I’ve ever witnessed – an all-star Band playing Blues and Roots jams, and with such ease that we were mesmerized. I remember two names from the band, so I won’t mention any names, because it wouldn’t be fair. And I probably don’t really remember the names I think I do. Seth got up and jammed some saxophone with them, which was again awesome to watch as always.
4/4 – Our last full day in Austin. I worked the whole week. I never wanted to be one of those people who were glad it was Friday, but goddam I was glad it was Friday. Our show that night was again arranged by Graham, to whom I owe the world or at least several large favors. We were slated to play at Suzanna Choffel’s residency at C-Boy’s Heart and Soul. She and her band were outstanding, and again, I don’t remember enough names to print here. However, it was a really fun time, and I ran into a few old friends and acquaintances whose friends had recommended them to me. Now we’re friends. It was a great night, and it took me a minute to realize this was the last place I’d been in Austin, and it was called Trophies when I was there. We returned to Courtney’s place and packed, then hung out. Drive and show tomorrow.
4/5 – I realized that I’d booked our room for this night on the wrong date (this would happen twice). So I had to scramble to make arrangements to sleep, and I lost a non-refundable payment I’d made on Airbnb. This is something that happens when you’re your own tour manager, and you’re trying to work a full-time job in addition to booking, managing, driving, etc… whatever. Ernie and Seth drove most of the time, and I appreciate them very much. We made it through Houston without any indication of the severe weather we’d been fearing, and which we’d soon hear about, and arrived at our Econo Lodge on Galveston Beach, which I’d booked during the drive. The humidity made the floors in our rooms glisten with a light coat of sea water. It’s a tourist beach area where we were staying. I walked around a huge gift shop, warehouse-type place looking for gifts. So much trash.
The show was very enjoyable, though the feared weather (that never came to fruition), in a coastal town, seemingly affected attendance. The people there were beautiful and generous with their attention. It’s a legendary and holy venue, Old Quarter Acoustic Café, now owned by Joel and Angela Mora, once owned by Rex Bell, and through him and its original Houston location, a pretty straight line to some of the greatest names in song, like Townes Van Zandt, David Olney, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Hayes Carll and more. The green room seems pretty untouched from 1996, when Rex reopened it in Galveston, aside from constantly adding to the collection of superb set lists tacked to the wall. We opened for my friend and Hero Marina Rocks and the celebration of the release of her triumphant new album, S.O.S. Texas. So, after we played our best set yet, we were treated to an incredible performance by Marina. She is powerful, and you will be a better human the more you listen to her.
4/6 – Huge driving day. Across Texas. We listened to a book on Audible – A Boy and His Dog at the End of the World, a post-apocalyptic novel by C.A. Fletcher, published in 2019. On this long drive, we got far enough into the book that we’d eventually finish it. But we arrived in Alpine, Texas at a reasonably-priced, small airbnb and settled in. We had driven a very long way, if you want to look at the distance between Galveston and Alpine (627 miles).
4/7 – Now, why would I book a Monday night show nine hours from the last appearance? Well, two reasons: Jerry Jeff Walker and Jaimee Harris. Jaimee was instrumental in helping me, introducing me to different people and places, because she’s a native Texan and – again – beloved everywhere. When I was asking where I should play, and she was sharing names and email addresses and stuff of places to play, she said, “It’s a long way away, but it’s an adventure, and it’s my favorite place – Terlingua. You could try the Starlight.” Well, I love adventures, and I adore Jaimee; my favorite Jerry Jeff album is Viva Terlingua, so I had to try. And the date that worked for me and the Starlight Theatre was that Monday night.
It was a helluva drive, for sure, and I got to contribute to it some on Sunday, being off from my day job, which I am so grateful I can do remotely. I don’t take it for granted. But the drive was worth it. Like a friend told me, when discussing my plans, “Terlingua is like being on the Moon!” And that’s a really brilliant feeling – so much space and wide-open wilderness. It’s unincorporated, and according to context from the souvenir store, the mayor is a beer-drinking goat named Clay Henry, whose campaign slogan is “Just Give a Dern!” And the venue – the Starlight Theatre – couldn’t have been more welcoming. Marina opened up this time, and she was once again incredible. The audience was lively and engaged; the after-show food was excellent. The venue, like the town, was wild, with a huge mural of a frontier scene behind the stage, which is high above the seating area and also supports a life-size wooden sculpture of a long-haired, mustachioed guitarist who loosely resembles Skunk Baxter and the Ole Miss Rebel mascot – adorned with Mardi Gras beads and other crazy decorations. The only thing that was even a miniscule disappointment was that the moon was so bright, the stars weren’t as brilliant as I’d been lead to believe, and as I’m sure they are in a slightly darker sky. But the sky was beautiful still in its clarity and illumination after the show.
4/8 – I really didn’t want to leave Terlingua. It’s beautiful, and I will return with my wife someday soon, who was at that time, caring for her sister who was recovering from a spinal surgery. They’re both really brave and wonderful. But it was another long driving day – again, the price of adventure. We drove. I worked. We stayed in a Motel 6 with a broken elevator in Sweetwater, Texas. This was the second of the mis-booked overnight stays I had to scramble to correct. Luckily we had plenty of time, and Ernie drove. Also, fortunately, it was reserved with Marriott points and fully refundable. Thanks Marriott.
4/9 – We finished the short drive into Dallas, and my square job was stressful the whole day. I didn’t get to enjoy much of the scenery. The show that night was at Deep Ellum Art Co. They put us up in a loft, and that was very nice. The venue is huge, maybe a little too big for a brand-new market for me. In fact, other than the staff of the venue, my friend Jeremy Morgan taking photographs, and Nick Taylor – a very talented Texan songsmith and singer that opened the show, there were only two people there: Carrie and Jake. I only know their names, because I broke the fourth wall immediately upon taking the stage after Nick’s compelling set. I didn’t think it made sense for those to be the most important people (patrons of independent music and venues) to me, and for me to not know their names. I gave them the best performance I could. I hope I see them again. It was the first empty show, which – being the eighth show and a new route, is not that bad really. But Deep Ellum Art Co. is a wonderful and stylish spot in a very cool area of Dallas I’d never been to before. I’d love to go back and support someone there.
After our show and a post-show hang, I went on my ritualistic search for late-night food. It led me to Adair’s, and I had one of those burgers that you get in dive bars like Brown’s in Nashville or The Boro in Murfreesboro – inexplicably delicious to the point of confusion and absurdism. There was a dude playing some of my favorite Country songs from Guy Clark, John Prine, Lyle Lovett, Kinky Friedman and others. I finished my burger, staring at a sticker on the beer cooler portraying the classic beating delivered to Robin Ventura by Nolan Ryan, and I walked out leaving a twenty-dollar bill in the stage’s tip bucket on my way out. It was a very Texas moment I had to myself in Dallas.
4/10 – Another driving day. Not terribly long, but not worth going all the way into New Orleans, where we were playing the next night. So we drove through to Shreveport and stopped for lunch. Seth and Ernie patronized Chipotle, and I opted for McAllister’s and a Spud. A dear friend who lives in Shreveport met me for lunch as we were passing through. He’s expecting a son. It was a good visit. We drove on to our Airbnb, in Moreauville, Louisiana. It was an inexpensive room on the route, and it had everything we needed – three soft places to sleep, above average WiFi, and a bevy of dining options. It was after 8 o’clock, so the choice was a little slim. There were two gas stations serving the usual luxurious fare of such establishments – plastic-wrapped sandwiches, heatlamp-seasoned fried chicken, nondescript, nugget-size-and-shaped foodstuffs and styrofoam-contained, mayonnaise-based “salads.” And there was a Dollar General. We opted to get some Dollar General and take it back to the reasonably modern oven in the room. We watched Darjeeling Limited because Seth had played “So Long, Sweet Lime” several hundred times but had never seen the scene from which it came.
4/11 – New Orleans has been an important set of coordinates in my life many times. I don’t know my way around it like a local, and I don’t romanticize it. It’s a portal to the Spirit World, and a substantial commercial outpost, as many points along the Mississippi River are both. And being at the mouth of that ancient, ethereal combination of Tao, Voodoo energy, and raw sewage, it’s only logical that this city would be full of Magic – both Light and Dark. It’s vampires, jazz, spice, scams, luxury, poverty, art, and crime. And growing up an hour away geographically but light years away culturally, in South Mississippi, New Orleans has always been both familiar and exotic to me, in a way I can’t explain much more, without getting into some personal psychology and some latent anthropology, and that’s not even considering the aforementioned mysticism that permeates the city.
This was my favorite show I’ve ever played there, though, by far. We had a backyard party at the home of my friends Justin and Grace. I knew Justin from playing at a venue up in Massachusetts a couple of times – one of my favorite spots, The Fallout Shelter in Norwood, Massachusetts (where I’ll be again on August 2, if you’re keeping up with that sort of thing…). And I knew he’d moved to New Orleans, so when booking this tour, I’d contacted him to see about artists he might know that maybe I could share a show with, places to crash, venues that might be a good fit, and/or getting in a good hang. But Justin’s an angel, see? So, he did what angels do and went to work making the world a better place, trying to set up a show with friends of his and Grace (his partner, who I’d never met, but trusted implicitly from Justin’s approval). Well, after a while, nothing was coming through at traditional venues, mostly because the weekend I could be through was French Quarter Fest and had been booked long before this plan was attempted. So, Justin and Grace decided to throw a house party at their lovely home in the Bywater. Angels.
It was a mystic experience all around. The air couldn’t have been at a better temperature or humidity. And the music was just utterly brilliant. Starting with a young songstress with an old soul, Liv LaFluv (get it? took me a minute), who sang gorgeous, biting, Southern-tinged-but-Alien-bred songs. One of her songs, “Rainbow Machine” I’m pretty sure, talked about feeling all the colors of the rainbow, and she even says: “Some days I feel So Purple.” And I was in awe of the experience of listening to a song that was certainly connected to a song I’d found – like taking a photograph of a mountain from the opposite side or finding a vein of gold in a river but not following it all the way or making a bouquet from similar-but-not-the-same flowers, plucked from the same meadow.
Then Azad Safavi played with a crew of great players, including some vocals from all the other singers that performed, a violinist and his own capable guitar and voice singing his very thoughtful Country songs. After Azad, Queen Bonobo played, and that was stunning. An accomplished Jazz vocalist and composer with a truly distinct energy to her music, her set was the perfect soundtrack to the sun setting. The stage (Justin and Grace’s back Porch), materialized in the contrast between its lamp-powered light and the night setting in. And of course, Seth got up and played some flute beautifully to a couple of her songs. Then we played, and it was fun. But apparently one of their neighbors got upset and there was some yelling. It obviously wasn’t louder than me, because I didn’t hear about it until I was enjoying a late-night Shrimp Po Boy and an Abita Amber. This was my favorite time being in New Orleans. Of many.
4/12 – Seth wanted to get a gift for his girlfriend, which I fully support. But he wanted to get something from Café Du Monde, the famous beignet and coffee exchange in the French Quarter. That wasn’t my favorite part, but it was relatively painless, as Ernie and I dropped Seth off then drove over to the nearest free street parking and waited. The streets teemed with humidity and tourism. Seth didn’t take too long. We got back on the road.
In my hometown of Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where the last show of this run would occur, we dropped our things off at my Mom’s house, in Petal, Mississippi (a smaller town outside of Hattiesburg), and then I went for a brief visit to my Dad’s place to hang out with him and his wife, Patricia. It was a nice visit. Then, after a long nap on my childhood bed, we left for the Grill & Grocery, which has become my favorite place in Hattiesburg over the last few years. It’s a perfectly chill dive bar downtown, with sheet metal on the walls, stickers and random decorations everywhere, a healthy-but-random selection of beers and seltzers, and a screen behind the small, wheel-bound stage that’s always playing a DVD of the Muppets on a big screen above. Carl and Tina are the sweetest people – the couple who own the venue, and Carl and I actually waited tables together in another lifetime. It’s great to see them every time.
After we played our final set of the tour, to family and friends and strangers, under Miss Piggy and other surreal monster puppets and obscure celebrity guests, my friend Stephen Wade Scott played with his trio. They were so good, drums by Marshall and solid, grooving bass by Kenny Paul Mann, and SWS destroying beautiful guitar solos over his even more beautiful songs. But, as Stephen warned, he was very loud, and I didn’t have earplugs. So I caught a good bit of their show from outside the side of the venue, with a great view. When we got back to my mom’s, there were leftover chicken wings that my mom’s husband, Curtis, had smoked. They were incredible and went amazingly with some Yellowbird Agave sriracha sauce Courtney gave us in Austin (that Ernie had already gone through a small bottle of).
The next day, Ernie and I got a little soft toss in with the baseball and gloves I brought, in my backyard. Then we had burgers with a homemade bacon jam that Curtis made (he can cook, y’all), and we drove back to Nashville. It’s always great to see my mom and sleep in my bed.
Conclusion – I never found a good opportunity for pinball, and I only used the quarters for pressurized air, during the tire pressure incident. I also never found another thing I’d hoped to – a fitting, unique novelty license plate for the front of Etta. But I have a plan for that before the next tour this summer. Buc-ee’s twice I think – maybe three times. I get a kind of AntiChrist vibe in them, but I do like the Beaver Nuggets. Got my nieces Buc-ee’s coloring books (along with some cool guitar picks in Terlingua). It was the first time I’d tried to pull off the full-time job while on tour, and I think I did, but it was definitely more stressful. It’s sobering to do both and realize that, unless something truly miraculous happens (because I’m never going to change what I am called to do for money), I will have to do it this way to tour, because it’s expensive.
But that’s not important. What is important is that I made a lot of new friends, saw a lot of new places, and most importantly, i sang my prayers in welcoming, generous, holy temples and fulfilled – for a moment – my ancient, sacred duty to eternity of sharing the songs I find. I think music is the solution to all of our problems as a species. And it’s a blessing that I get to do it with people like Seth and Ernie, my true friends.
Until next time, be Purple.
–
AW
