M: MUSIC & MUSICIANS, June 2010

Terri Hendrix

Cry Till You Laugh
terrihendrix.com
With a stylistic sweep that encompasses country, blues, jazz and practically everything in between, Texan Terri Hendrix has created a flourishing cottage industry with a consistent string of albums hailed by fans and critics alike. Partnered once again with erstwhile producer and multitasking session pro Lloyd Maines, the new record finds Hendrix stirring the pot even more, opting to go it alone with harmonica (“Wail Theory”), vamp it up (“Automatic”) and tackle some torch-lit blues (“Sometimes”). Jazz orchestration and a ragtime band also add to the mix on “Take Me Places” and “You Belong in New Orleans” respectively, but the album’s ultimate triumph is “Come Tomorrow,” a restless but reflective ballad that gives her vocals a rare vulnerability all the easier to embrace. — LEE ZIMMERMAN

LAVA MAGAZINE: The Music Magazine of the Mauli Ola Foundation
www.lava-mof.org

“31 Flavors of the Best in Americana from 2010”

Terri Hendrix
Cry Till You Laugh
Wilory
Talk about truth in advertising. Not only does Cry Till You Laugh mark an artistic high-water mark for the prolific Terri Hendrix (this is her 14th release in as many years), it’s also her most emotionally fearless and forthcoming. The opening “Wail Theory,” an inspired mash-up of two Dorothy Parker poems sung a cappella and punctuated with shots of thick, mournful harp, is the darkest this more famously sunny Texan has ever sounded on record — at least until the haunting, surrealistic fever dream of “The Berlin Wall” eight songs later. In between, “Hand Me Down Blues,” “Roll On,” “Einstein’s Brain” and “Sometimes” all reveal varying degrees of sadness, frustration and uncertainty with disarming frankness. But through it all, Hendrix’s stylistic diversity shines like a beacon, as even her blues come in a sweeping array of folk, country, pop and jazz colors. Meanwhile, proving once again that few other artists in the wide world of Americana music are more adept at the art of making you feel good, she delivers on the “laugh” part of the equation in spades. From the explosive positive energy that radiates from “Slow Down,” “Hula Mary” and the pair of up-tempo jazz tunes (especially the scat-tacular “Take Me Places”) to the stirring affirmation of the beautiful “Come Tomorrow,” Hendrix’s hard-earned, invigorating joie de vivre spirit hits you like a B-12 shot straight to the dimples. — RICHARD SKANSE

3RD COAST MUSIC, June 2010

Terri Hendrix
Cry Till You Laugh
Wilory

Rather astonishing to realize that the young woman I used to see at Open Mikes, more years ago than either of us would care to admit, has now self-released no less than 14 albums. There are indie labels with smaller catalogs. Her latest was originally conceived as a “full-on” jazz album, and while there’s still strong evidence of the concept, crooning or skatting on Mike Sumler’s Automatic, Ike Eichenberg’s You Belong In New Orleans and Take Me Places and Hendrix’s own Sometimes, she admits she isn’t cut out to stick to one style for a whole album. As the Chicago Sun Times’ Mary Skilton marvelled, “Folk, pop, country, blues, Latin and country swing. None of it evades Terri Hendrix.” Broadening the range, while coming naturally, is probably just as well, Hendrix’s recent enthusiasm for jazz has not been universally welcomed, even by long time fans. Opening, just her and her harmonica, with a fusion of two bleak Dorothy Parker poems, Hendrix amply demonstrates her stylistic range while deftly avoiding trainwrecks, with such standouts as Hand Me Down Blues (“some things you don’t get over, you just get through”), Einstein’s Brain and 1000 Times. Produced—but of course—by Lloyd Maines, who also plays more instruments than you can shake a papoose at, with Riley Osbourn piano and keyboards, Richard Bowden fiddle and cello and Stan Smith clarinet among the backing musicians who provide many gorgeous fills, Hendrix has some very dark moments in her lyrics, even though, as anyone who’s seen her can attest, her constant smile lights up the dimmest room. Of her epilepsy, a recurrence of which recently gave her and Maines a very nasty scare, she says “My brain broke when I was about 7 years old, As I get older, it breaks more often. Laughter has proven to be the best medicine. It’s far cheaper and with fewer side effects than pharmaceuticals. Also, unlike health insurance, laughter can’t drop you. It picks you up.” Terri Hendrix takes life’s lemons and turns them into fresh-squeezed lemonade. — JOHN CONQUEST

SAN ANTONIO EXPRESS-NEWS, June 23, 2010

TEXAS MUSIC MAGAZINE, Summer 2010

THE PROGRESSIVE POPULIST
Populist.com

“Populist Picks”

Cry Till You Laugh by Terri Hendrix
This truly independent Texas singer-songwriter is one of the best faces for idealism in contemporary music, and with each album goes further beyond the usual tropes of the form. Yes, she’s a wonderful singer who composes songs rich with heart, insight, and an admirably empathetic and positive sensibility. But with her creative partner and producer Lloyd Maines — known for his work with the Dixie Chicks (for which his daughter Natalie is the lead singer), Flatlanders and other roots acts — this disc is as much about the music as it is the songs and their singing. With elements of folk, rock, country and such jazz flavors as Dixieland and big band, this is a genuinely masterful set of 15 tracks that are sure to be enjoyed if not treasured by music fans who have yet to discover this wonderful artist. — ROB PATTERSON

MAVERICK MAGAZINE (U.K.)

Terri Hendrix
Cry Till You Laugh
Wilory Records
FOUR STARS
Hendrix conducts some self-exploration in song
When Terri began work on this recording last autumn she intended cutting a jazz collection, composed of covers and Hendrix-penned originals, with the working title TERRITOWN. Time passed, change occurred and here we have the musically diverse fifteen-selection CRY TILL YOU LAUGH produced by long time musical partner Lloyd Maines. While there’s a few jazz touches, more of which later, in terms of delivery this effervescent and harmony-rich song collection is totally Terri Hendrix.

A while back fellow San Marcos, (Texas) based musician Adam Carroll loaned Terri a book of Dorothy Parker poems. Much attracted to the short works Wail and Theory, she merged most of the former and all of the latter into album opener Wail Theory. Interlaced with short bluesy harmonica bursts (I guess they could be wails), Terri delivers Parker’s words a cappella. The uptempo Slow Down — for openers, there’s a contradiciton in terms — is the first of this album’s five Maines writing collaborations. Two decades ago Kerrville New Folk Song Contest winner Mike Sumler composed Automatic. Propelled by jazzy shuffle, it delivers commentary on the “automatic, democratic, chromatic, acrobatics of the blues.” You know, music written and played by real musicians!
The fourth selection, Hand Me Down Blues, penned by Hendrix, is reflected by the later, shorter, almost Eastern sounding Hand Me Down Blues Reprise. Lloyd plays dulcimer on the latter and shares the writing credit. The album title, albeit paraphrased, turns up in the highly personal Einstein’s Brain lyric. Therein Hendrix reflects on a recurring health issue with fortitude and her infectious smile. A live version of Ike Eichenberg’s You Belong in New Orleans surfaced on LIVE IN SAN MARCOS (2001) while CRY TILL YOU LAUGH album closer Take Me Places, co-written by Ike and Amy Hall, appeared on TERRI HENDRIX LIVE (1999). Here, on both tunes, Hendrix indulges in some high-energy scat singing.

Sometimes, co-penned with Maines, is a beautiful smooth jazz ballad that follows and neatly balances the energetic New Orleans. The thoughtful Berlin Wall explores the obstacles that life thrusts in our path. Whether many miles apart or simply close by, 1000 Times urges constant contact with loved ones be they blood relations, lovers or simply acquaintances. While fulfilling a musical engagement on the Virgin Islands, Hendrix/Maines met a patron of a local watering hole who was adept with a hula hoop, hence the fun-filled Hula Mary. As for this collection’s musical gem, that very well might be the optimistic Come Tomorrow. As I mentioned earlier, CRY TILL YOU LAUGH is quite simply a 100% Terri Hendrix tour de force. — AW

COLORADO SPRINGS INDEPENDENT, July 22, 2010

“Sound Advice”

Terri Hendrix
Cry Till You Laugh
Wilory
Buy if you like: Diana Krall, Cassandra Wilson
As a singer-songwriter, Terri Hendrix has suffered through more than her share of mislabeling. That’s partly because she’s so versatile; she can fit into — or break — just about any mold. In this case, she set out to make a jazz album, but claims to have gotten derailed. If that’s the case, she should do so more often. Her supple voice is absolutely sublime on “Automatic,” and the torchy, bluesy “Sometimes,” proves she could go toe-to-toe with any jazz singer on the planet. Her effortless scatting around the horns on the swingin’ Ike Eichenberg tune, “You Belong in New Orleans” is just wickedly wonderful. She makes you feel the chill of lovers divided in “Berlin Wall,” and the pain of suffering the affliction of epilepsy in “Einstein’s Brain.” Hearing her indulge her musical genius, abetted by producer/playing partner Lloyd Maines and one of the best bands in Austin (or anywhere) is pure joy. — LYNNE MARGOLIS

POPMATTERS, July 19, 2010
PopMatters.com

Terri Hendrix: Cry Till You Laugh
By Steve Horowitz

Magic Can Happen
Terri Hendrix sings the blues in a sweet, sweet way. One could easily forget the Texas troubadour mostly croons about life’s troubles, because she sounds so dang pleasant about it. The singer-songwriter understands that tears are meant to roll off one’s face, that even those with two left feet should dance, and the promise of tomorrow may just be a fantasy. Hendrix doesn’t let the disagreeable facts of life get in the way of living a rich life with a smile. The vast majority of the 15 tracks on her latest disc reveal she’s satisfied just singing and swinging. As the album’s title says, Cry Till You Laugh, what better choice do you have?

While Hendrix may be more Pollyanna than Cassandra, she doesn’t shy away from the truth. Hendrix details the distance between what’s real and what we want on the autobiographical “Einstein’s Brain”. We all know that the things we desire do not come easily, if at all. Hendrix reminds us that we can still dream about them. Magic can happen, even if only for a brief, incandescent interlude. We can taste the sweetness in our minds and imagination—and maybe that’s enough.

This concept has a negative side. If we can’t always get what we want and don’t get mad about it, are we simply crazy, like the title character of “Hula Mary”? Mary is lost in the ’60s and finds solace in dancing, much to the amusement of those who watch her get lost in the music. The listener may sympathize, but presumably not want to be like her. Hendrix is aware of the limitations of crying until you laugh, because she also notes in “Sometimes” that sometimes it’s enough “to lay down and cry.” Or sometimes crying without laughing is comfort enough when there are reasons to be sad.

Maybe that’s why the most compelling song on the record is “”The Berlin Wall”, which acknowledges the two sides of emotional well-being. Told as the story of a relationship, Hendrix shows that one can have radically different feelings of freedom and entrapment when in love. Self-doubt and self-confidence live together in one’s mind when one looks for his or her self reflected in the eyes of another.

None of this would matter if not for the music. Hendrix writes songs, not poetry or stories. Still, she starts the album with a set of Dorothy Parker poems turned into song on “Wall Theory”, and she has turned Cry Till You Laugh into a book that’s due for release less than two months after the record.

Despite Hendrix’s venerable last name, she’s no guitar wizard. Her playing is competent, but her accompanist on a slew of instruments and producer makes the music shine. Lloyd Maines plays acoustic and electric guitars, mandolin, papoose, steel, mandotar, Gitjo, banjo, dulcimer, and percussion in addition to providing harmony vocals. Maines really knows how to set off Hendrix’s voice and lyrics, letting the rhythms carry the songs when needed, getting out of the way and setting the atmosphere on other tunes. The music ranges in style from hot jazz to funky blues to desolate country without ever sounding disconnected from the whole. The variety adds up as a way to showcase Hendrix’s musical diversity.

There are a few missteps here. Her version of Ike Eichenberg’s “You Belong in New Orleans” in particular comes off as forced. Hendrix’s vocals sound more affected than sincere, and the scat singing falls flat. Still, this is the exception rather than the rule. On the vast majority of tracks, the Texas singer offers compelling vignettes of life in a voice that compels one to believe she means what she says. That’s no small task.

LoneStarMusic Magazine
Cry Till You Laugh — The Part That Ain’t Art
Book Review
— Doug Pullen

Sing Out! * Vol. 51  #4 * Winter 2008

Clearly Terri Hendrix was doing some heavy-lifting cogitation while writing the songs for The Spiritual Kind. The title track, the album’s core, is a look deep inside that tries to make sense of the bewildering, conflicting ideas folks have about what is the “one true way.”  Terri rejects this.  She prefers to think whatever path works for you is a right one.  And its jaunty melody doesn’t allow the song any darkness at all.

The opener, John Hadley’s “Life’s a Song,” celebrates the power music has to connect.  “Bottom of a Hill” is about getting by in the world in whatever harmony you can generate.  “Acre of Land” continues this theme from the metaphoric starting point of what you have to do to make a garden grow moving to meditation about one’s resilience and ability to withstand the problems life inevitably tosses your way.  Nature imagery also illuminates the introspective “Soul of My Soul.”  Then “Things Change” in ways people never expect and as Terri notes, “People forget to tell each other.”

The album also includes stirring versions of Woody Guthrie’s “Pastures of Plenty” and Jimmie Driftwood’s “What is the Color of the Soul.”  Both fit perfectly with the album’s running themes.

In “Jim Thorpe’s Blues” Terri relates the story of how “the athelete of the century” was stripped of his records, medals and achievements for small fry causes.  Next to last Terri’s spoken “If I Had a Daughter” is a conversation with an as yet possible future child, a remarkably open, candid piece.  The album closes with a burst of joyous noise in “Mood Swing.”  Here Terri’s “jazz baby” side emerges to send the listener back into the world fingers popping and happy.

As always Terri’s musical partner Lloyd Maines produces and plays all sorts of stringed devices, all brilliantly, too.  The band includes Austin A-listers Terri has worked with before, and so has great chemistry with them.  Solid, strong work throughout.

Terri Hendrix is at her best on The Spiritual Kind.  That is cause for celebration.  Thoughtful and tuneful in generous quantities it’s a hard one to resist. - MT

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper
Wilory

by Dan Aquilante

**** 4 Stars

You might think country singer Terri Hendrix's new album is about stripping away the masks we hide behind, but the real theme here is even more basic: It's about being truthful with yourself. With her musical partner, Lloyd Maines (father of Dixie Chick Natalie Maines), Hendrix presents her songs in stripped-down country arrangements that her appealing voice in front of the music. She opens with the powerful "Breakdown," a song that wrestles with personal angst and emptiness. That might sound gloomy, but the melody lends an optimistic air. Hendrix really makes her mark on a cover of rapper L.L. Cool J's "I Need Love," bringing the gap between The Bronx and Nashville.

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper 
Wilory

by Lyn Marglolis

The Art of Navigation
The title Terri Hendrix chose for her new album, The Art of Removing Wallpaper , is obviously a metaphor--one that becomes clear in the last verse of its opening song, "Breakdown": "Now you can cover it up with wallpaper / Cover it up with paint or / Hang a masterpiece on the wall / Sooner or later the day's gonna come when you have to face / What's underneath it all."

Sometimes that's a much harder process than home improvement but, ultimately, even more rewarding, as the Texas resident learned while writing songs for her seventh album. With impeccable musicianship, Hendrix delivers 11 tracks of wit and wisdom (plus one instrumental) that again raise questions about why she's still paying dues in the Terminally Underappreciated Club, membership she shares with similarly inclined artists Amy Rigby and Christine Lavin.

But that may change with Wallpaper . Her recognition factor has grown since co-writing "Lil' Jack Slade," a Grammy-winning instrumental on the Dixie Chicks' Home. Her Chicks connection is Lloyd Maines, Natalie's dad and Hendrix's longtime co-producer and songwriting/performing partner.

"Lloyd's really fun to travel with," Hendrix says. "We have a lot of crazy moments. I can't read a Yahoo map backward to save my life."

She might not be able to navigate back to where she started, but that's OK. The point--career-wise and personally--is to move forward.

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper 
Wilory

by Thom Jurek 
Four Stars 

Texas songwriter Terri Hendrix's fourth studio album, and fifth overall, is a stellar collection of folk and rock tunes that are lined with rootsy country; it delivers in full the promise she displayed on 2000's Places in Between . This is a collection of songs that deal with varying stages of transformation, and not in any new age sense of the word, either. First, there's awareness displayed in two different ways on the poignant "Breakdown," and the manifesto "Enjoy the Ride." The former is naked confessionalism: a beautifully fingerpicked acoustic guitar introduces the tough truth in this song before co-producer and business partner Lloyd Maines' steel glides into the body of it, buoying up Hendrix's protagonist. There is surrender in her honesty and therefore the door of possibility for other things is opened. The latter cut, with its shuffling harmonica and hand drums, is a statement for change via a dissatisfaction with the way things are: "Just getting by or just getting through/Don't cut it for me anymore/I'm ready to enjoy the ride, from deep inside/I want to know, what I'm here for." Elsewhere, on "One Way," Hendrix comments with brutal honesty on the brokenness of a love that would be perfect if its object were capable of receiving it: "You open my heart and you swim inside me/You open my soul and your blood runs through me/You're too wrapped up inside yourself to see/How it hurts me...I give up...." Sometimes transformation in political, cultural, and environmental spheres is negative, as in the rollicking acoustic country and gospel screed "Monopoly." Her version of LL Cool J's "I Need Love," is unique. Inside the grain of Hendrix's delivery lies an innocent heart. This is not a mere romantic platitude, it is a statement of truth; here the wish for physical pleasure gives way to the inner need for intimacy; for a love vulnerable and true enough to express itself nakedly. The album closes with the struggle of loneliness and the acceptance of a life that is true to itself yet forgoes many comforts. The last track, "Hey Now," expresses itself with stomping bluegrass righteousness, and proclaims the other side of that in the refrain: "Hey now/I think it's gonna be alright/Hey now, I believe." So simple, so strident, so gorgeously tough and impure; all that's left once the record ends is the realization that Hendrix has artfully laid bare that which was once hidden by life's wallpaper; it is a tabula rasa that can be adorned but never covered over.

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper
Wilory Records

Promotional material accompanying Terri Hendrix's new CD says she studied opera in college before dripping out to milk goats and pursue music. Now that would make a great song. Not that there's any shortage of appealing tunes on "The Art of Removing Wallpaper," the latest set from Texas singer-songwriter Hendrix. The title refers to peeling away the layers that hide true feelings, and Hendrix shares hers on a variety of subjects with a nudge, a wink and rat-a-tat lyrics. "I'm underpaid, undersexed, overworked, overtaxed, spammed, slammed, wham-bammed, and thank-you ma'am'd," she sings. The quality of Hendrix's writing is high from start to finish, but the most confessional tune is actually one she didn't write but embraces as her own-- LL Cool J's engaging "I Need Love." Hendrix is a folk singer first, but there's a tinge of country thanks to her Texas twang and stellar instrumental accompaniment provided by co-producer Lloyd Maines, father of Dixie Chick Natalie Maines. The versatile Hendrix also borrows from pop, bluegrass, gospel, and R&B, with one cut-- the clever "It's About Time"-- finding a grove reminiscent of the Pointer Sisters. All that's missing is opera.

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper 
Wilory

by Nicole Pensiero

Best Roots CDs of 2004 - Philadelphia City Paper

Terri Hendrix
The Art of Removing Wallpaper 
Wilory

by Buzz McLain

She's the last artist you would think to do a cover of an L.L. Cool J rap song, but Texas singer-songwriter Terri Hendrix makes it pretty and catchy, hiding the beat behind the guitar and turning it into a romantic ballad with a couple of verses recited really fast. She sounds as if she's having fun with it, and you get a similar feeling on the eleven other country-folk-pop cuts on this, her first disc since 2002's The Ring . The Art of Removing Wallpaper is a bit of a concept album, each song reflecting or championing the peeling away of coverings that hide true intentions or emotions. In "Breakdown" , the album's midtempo opener, she sets the tone with couplets as, "Look at me putting makeup on my face/What am I trying to add or erase." In "Monopoly" , she takes a swing at commercial globalization, including a swipe at corporate radio: "There ain't no clear channel/Clear channel it's clear to see/One Choice takes the voice/ From individuality." Politically and emotionally charged as the lyrics may be, Hendrix is in fine melodic form, keeping the surface bright and polished (with the help of producer Lloyd Maines) while getting her message through her clear singing and impeccable timing.

"No Depression" #41 – September-October 2002

Terri Hendrix

There's barely anything country about Terri Hendrix’s music, but she’s certainly an Americana artist. Her voice, her songs and her effervescent personality are the essence of joyful folk music. There’s a salt-of-the-earth spark that resonates in her performances, whether on CD or onstage. The San Antonio native, who currently lives in San Marcos, is part of the all-encompassing Texas music movement. And, like many of her contemporaries, she’s been doing it herself since 1996, when she formed her own label, Wilory Records, and released her debut effort, Two Dollar Shoes. Ms. Hendrix’s new album, The ring, is another one of her intriguing, hard-to-categorize gems full of unconventional tunes such as "Goodbye Charlie Brown" and "From Another Planet."
-Mario Tarradell

By: Andrew Dansby
rollingstone.com

Terri Hendrix
The Ring
(Wilory Records)

The fourth studio recording by this Texas square peg is (almost) bookended by a pair of tunes that neatly set up the wide parameters for the breadth of her talent. The opening "Goodbye Charlie Brown," like the work of its title-character’s creator, skillfully finds adult observations in its childlike vessel. In between are bits of whimsical pop ("Consider Me") surreal folk ("I Found the Lions") and bundles more. The wood-and-wireness of Hendrix’s songcraft almost demands the folk tag, but her smooth and nimble phrasing suggest something jazzier (particularly on the likes of "From Another Planet"), though that influence still creeps in even when she isn’t scatting with fleet dexterity. Those bells and whistles aside, it’s the album’s other bookend, the title track, that best reps Hendrix. A perfectly hatched story song pulled from the pages of her family history, "The Ring" is told with the simplicity and detail of the best songsmiths—right down to the hard perfection of its title object, which is both a limitless metaphor and a detail as small and tangible as the metal from which is composed. – Andrew Dansby

‘The Ring’ by Terri Hendrix – A Review

There aren’t many singers who’ve paid tribute to the late creator of the "Peanuts" comic strip, but Texas-born singer-songwriter Terri Hendrix has in her new CD. Critic David Okamoto says ‘The Ring’ shows Hendrix at a new stage of artistic development.

‘The Ring’
Terri Hendrix
Produced by Lloyd Maines & Terri Hendrix
Wilory Records
By David Okamoto

With her new album titled The Ring, San Marcos singer-songwriter Terri Hendrix has come full circle.
Four years ago, she was a soulful, sunny-voiced graduate of San Antonio’s Riverwalk bar scene, penning life-affirming narratives and blending the influences of such folk-pop heroines as Michelle Shocked, Nanci Griffith and Rickie Lee Jones. Then on her introspective 2000 album, Places In Between, she explored lives in transition by populating her songs with wobbly, but strong-willed narrators who were determined to move on even though they didn’t always know where they were going.
On The Ring, her fourth studio album, Hendrix doesn’t hide behind characters, nor does she hide her emotions. Tough-skinned songs like "Spinning Off," "I found the Lions" and "Truth Is Strange" smack of renewed confidence. At age 34, she is wiser but not jaded, centered but not giddy, and she has mastered the ability to tap into universal truths by confronting her most intimate fears and feelings. As a result, The Ring crackles with a heart-racing intensity that burst through the dobro- and mandolin-spiked band arrangements like a deep-sea diver who has finally reached the surface. Always a charming folk-pop vocalist, Hendrix digs deeper and discovers not only her inner rapper and blues mama on the Dire Straits-influenced "I Found the Lions," but also a scatting be-bopper on the dazzling "From Another Planet."
Despite the new nuances in her voice, Hendrix’s simplest images make the strongest impact, from the tapping sounds coming from her father’s workshop in the title track, to her touching tribute to the late Charles Schultz in "Goodbye Charlie Brown." Hendrix wrote the latter song to ponder whether the magic of childhood dreams – colorfully symbolized for decades by the round-headed kid’s relentless quest to kick that football – needed Schultz’s pen to stay alive. But now, after 9/11, "Goodbye Charlie Brown" sparks a different, unintended interpretation, resonating as an anthem of hope for any parent who still can’t point out a soaring airplane to their child without feeling a chill. The song’s opening verse, addressing the beginning of a new era, coincidentally alludes to the New York skyline.
The good songs are the ones you can always turn to for comfort – but the great songs are the ones that unveil deeper meaning as time goes by and help you make sense of a world in which things don’t always make sense. With The Ring, Terri Hendrix set out to make an album, but she has crafted a keepsake.

David Okamoto is a senior producer of entertainment at Yahoo Broadcast and a contributing editor to ICE magazine Public Arts ™. All rights reserved.

Texas Monthly

Terri Hendrix
Places In Between

VISUALIZE SHERYL CROW in overalls, or maybe Ani Di-Franco with a down-home Texas perspective: That's Terri Hendrix, the singer-songwriter-entrepreneur-czarina, in a nutshell. Born and raised in San Antonio and now living in San Marcos, Hendrix is a walking advertisement for sunny confidence and boundless enthusiasm, qualities that she's been polishing along with her bright, sassy vocals and accomplished guitar playing over the course of three albums. Places in Between demonstrates how she's taken those talents one step further, exuding an innate sense of street smarts and a keen eye for detail on all fifteen tracks, particularly "It's a Given" and "Places in Between" - tunes that are simultaneously intimate and universal, telling stories that hold a listener even when the melody might not. Besides, how can you not love a singer who pines for a flush toilet and central air in her dream home, as she does on "My Own Place"? To pull that off suggests quite a career in the making. Keep your eyes and ears open as she whizzes past.

JOE NICK PATOSKI
TEXAS MONTHLY
May 2000
Essential listening
Terri Hendrix, Wilory Farm

THE AUSTIN CHRONICLE

Texas Platters
Places In Between (Wilory Records)

IT'S likely that San Marcos will soon become victim to the next Central Texas population boom, and if the relocated masses have any sense at all, they’ll declare Terri Hendrix their queen. The town’s got it all—natural beauty, access to major arteries, and a chance to grow in a more reasonable and intelligent manner than its big, obnoxious sister to the north (yes, Austin). Matter of fact, that description pretty well fits Hendrix herself, whose musical personality hasn’t gone unnoticed here, whose songs cut to the heart of the matter as quick as any, and whose second studio release, Places In Between, shows a natural and accomplished artistic growth. Still unafraid of wandering into the folk music of other cultures, Hendrix goes Celtic on "Joy or Sorrow," complete with a spoken Gaelic intro, and like it did with "Gravity" and "Lluvia de Estrellas" from her Wilory Farm debut, it works. She picks it bluegrass style on "My Own Place" and grinds the blues on "Throw My Love." The sad ("Eagles"), the silly ("Invisible Girl"), and the careworn ("Fair") all have a rightful place in Hendrix’s catalog; rather than spread her talents too thin, the diversity makes her complete. If Places In Between finds its author confronting her fears and putting them into songs, as Hendrix declares in the liner notes, then she emerges triumphant, turning the mundane into the beautiful – life into art—with the grace and ease of a gifted professional. – Christopher Hess