The Bugle Boy is for music lovers who want to hear the music, not the crowd

By Michael Corcoran
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Friday, August 10, 2007

LA GRANGE — The sign out front of the Bugle Boy, a former World War II barracks turned singer-songwriter haven, reads "Loose Lips Sink Ships." What that wartime saying means at the 80-capacity "listening room" is that if you talk during a song, you'll be shushed, and if the chatter continues, you'll be asked to leave. Undivided attention is such a priority here that if someone buys chips, owner Lane Gosnay pours them into a bowl, lest a rustling bag disturb the concentration of those lost in song.

The cozy Fayette County venue, which is usually open only Friday and Saturday nights, is a house concert with a marquee, a back porch with a cover charge, hosting the intimacy of a living room on the U.S. 77 thoroughfare.

"The folks who come here really respect and appreciate singer-songwriters," says sound man Pete Sengler, who, like everyone else who works at the 21/2-year-old club, doesn't get paid. "I've seen people take out notebooks to write down lyrics."

Not everyone gets what the Bugle Boy is about, and first-timers who pull into the parking lot with partying on the mind are quickly hipped by Gosnay that the Bugle Boy is not a place to down a couple beers and shoot the breeze while someone's playing a guitar in the background. In the early days of the club, Gosnay would do a mock stewardess pre-flight demonstration, but instead of air masks dropping, it would be a roll of duct tape, to be used in the event of turbulent gabbing.

"Our target audience is people who think live music isn't for them anymore," says Gosnay, a former state game warden who backed into the music business when she started helping songwriting friends such as Mary Gauthier find bookings in the Austin area. The B-Boy demographic includes empty nesters from Houston with weekend homes in La Grange, as well as older music fans who can't understand why someone would pay a cover to go to a club and then spend the whole time yapping about sports or "American Idol" or how wasted they got the night before.

The audience also usually includes a sprinkling of singer-songwriter fans from Austin such as Duggan Flanakin, who doesn't think anything about driving 65 miles each way to, as he puts it, "hear music the way it's supposed to be heard."

On a recent Friday night Flanakin brought his 96-year-old mother to La Grange to hear Austin singer-songwriters Brian Keane, Rachel Loy and Eric Hanke. "It's a little hard for my mother to make it up the stairs at Momo's (where the three often play in town)," Flanakin says.

The talent roster for the club, which takes its name from the Andrews Sisters 1940s morale-booster "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy," is dominated by mainstays on the folk circuit, such as Eliza Gilkyson, Ruthie Foster and Boston-to-Austin act porterdavis, who are playing tonight. Reservations are required for the bigger names; Gosnay won't allow customers to stand in the back.

Every act, big and small, plays for 80 percent of the door; the Bugle Boy does not give guarantees. Still, the club has no trouble attracting talent and is booked solid three months in advance. Almost every act at the Bugle Boy is one Gosnay has already seen or who was recommended by someone whose taste she trusts.

"This is not an easy place to play," Gosnay says. "The audience is hanging on every note, and they'll know if you mess up. Plus you really have to know how to communicate between songs."

Sometimes acts don't know the audience, like the songwriter who recently brought a four-piece band and drove the regulars outside to the deck in back. "We made the drummer use brushes the second set," Gosnay says.

The roots of the Bugle Boy sprung from the Bear Creek Concert Series near La Grange, which Gosnay co-hosted for about four years with singer-songwriter Christy Claxton. It was while presenting those house concerts that Gosnay discovered that the more the singer-songwriters feel appreciated, the better show they put on. "We're extremely attentive to the needs of the artists," she says. If an act requires a grand piano, Gosnay can get it, thanks to Plum Pianos near La Grange, which supplies keyboards to the club pro bono.

Pre-show gourmet meals also come at a discount for Bugle Boy performers. The Bistro 108 on Main Street will knock $15 off the bill (which usually covers the meal) if the singer leaves a CD. If an act is touring on a budget and would like to be put up for the night, Gosnay sends an e-mail to her list and one of her regulars always comes through with a free guest room. "I couldn't do this without the support of the community," says Gosnay, who is able to cover expenses thanks to 12 club VIPs, who each pay $100 a month to help cover the mortgage.

Sometimes it's the little details that stand out the most. After Keane had praised the room's lively acoustics during that recent Friday night song swap, Loy added what she loved most about the Bugle Boy. "It's this," she said, pointing to the customized cup holder attached to the mike stand. "If every club in the country had these, it would make it so much better for us."

Gosnay and her partner Claxton bought the Bugle Boy, a former Fort Swift barracks which had served as a Sons of Hermann Hall from the end of World War II until 2004, with the idea that it would be a full-time coffeehouse, with music at night. But business was slow those first few months of 2005, so focus shifted to live music on the weekends. In late 2005, Gosnay bought out Claxton, becoming sole proprietor. But Gosnay will tell you that 70-year-old Pat Settle, who has lived in La Grange since 1974, really runs the place. Even after paying $100 a month to be a VIP, Settle runs the "commissary," serving beer, wine, coffee and snacks before the show and during intermission. She also makes sure newcomers feel welcome and introduces them to some of the regulars.

"The Bugle Boy is the best thing that's happened to La Grange since I've been here," says Settle, who promises that club regulars won't let it close. "For entertainment, La Grange is finally becoming known for something besides the Chicken Ranch," she said in reference to the inspiration behind the Larry L. King play "The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas."