Before he received wide acclaim as Bob Dylan’s lead guitarist in the early 2000s, Charlie Sexton was a fixture of the Austin music scene going back almost as far as Willie himself, having first performed publicly in 1978, as a self-taught, nine-year-old, guitar prodigy invited onstage at the famous Continental Club. This week, Charlie the producer/bandleader/singer-songwriter nerds all the way out on one of Willie’s extra-obscure, early-60’s Pamper Demos, “I Let My Mind Wander,” a recording he considers a perfect example of real-deal, steel-driven, jukebox country music. But then, because we were recording our conversation in one of Willie’s old haunts, Arlyn Studios, he gets into his own experiences as a precocious preteen dragging his guitar through Willie World, before giving a little insight into how much his old boss, Bob Dylan, loves Willie Nelson.

John Mellencamp, one of Willie’s fellow Rock and Roll Hall of Fame members and a Farm Aid co-founder, has been a fan since first hearing “Funny How Time Slips Away” as a pre-teen in Seymour, Indiana. That song was one of Willie’s first contributions to the American Songbook, a reliable hit for other artists for nearly 15 years before Willie finally became a star, and it gets Mellencamp musing on parallels between early Willie and Bob Dylan—and how he later followed Willie’s lead in his own bitter battles with record industry overlords. From there we get into the unlikely origin of Farm Aid, the ongoing fight for the American farmer, and why Mellencamp thinks Willie deserves the Nobel Peace Prize.

CNN political analyst Paul Begala, a former White House chief strategist for Bill Clinton and lifelong Willie nerd, talks about “Heartland, a song Willie co-wrote and recorded with Bob Dylan for his 1993 masterpiece, Across the Borderline. “Heartland” was inspired by the American farm crisis of the mid-eighties, a tragedy Begala saw first-hand as a young speechwriter working his first presidential campaign in 1987, and one that he still has a hard time discussing. But it’s in those memories—and a gracious turn Willie did for his mom—that Begala settled on what he considers the singer’s true gift, empathy. With cameo appearances by Nelson Mandela, Elie Weisel, and Parliament-Funkadelic.

One of the most mind-blowing guitarists on earth, Billy Strings, talks about an all-time great Willie and Trigger workout, “Stay a Little Longer,” off the 1978 double-album Willie and Family Live. The song’s an old Bob Wills standard that Willie updated, made his own, and plays here at a careening, 90-mph pace that Billy says blazes like bluegrass—before adding that he hears in it a hallmark of Willie’s picking: integrity in every note. From there he describes a magical day cutting “California Sober” at Pedernales with Willie, the high price of playing poker with him afterward, and what it was like to carry Jody Payne’s old Martin guitar onstage at Willie’s 90th birthday shows.

The reigning queen of country music, Miranda Lambert, talks about one of the all-time great Outlaw anthems, Willie and Waylon’s Grammy-winning, #1 hit from 1978, “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys.” It’s a song Miranda can’t remember ever not knowing, one she suspects she first heard her dad played on the front porch, before she could even walk. The memory of those family get-togethers gets her thinking about the vital role pickin’ parties have played not just in her own life, but in country music history, the first song that ever made her cry, and the debt that every country artist owes to her hero, Willie Nelson.

Music writer John Spong talks each week to one notable Willie fan about one Willie song they love, then runs down the kinds of rabbit holes that open up when the subject is Willie Nelson. Starting January 22, ten new episodes featuring Miranda Lambert, John Mellencamp, Billy Strings, Black Puma Adrian Quesada, New Yorker music critic Amanda Petrusich, and so on…each giving a uniquely personal take on the life and art of a genuine American folk hero.

Introducing the latest podcast from Texas Monthly, "Viva Tejano.” Latin music is ascending in the U.S., and, in some surprising ways, much of the story behind the trend begins in Texas. On Viva Tejano, host J.B. Sauceda talks with legendary tejano artists and well-known tejano music fans about how the music has shaped their lives. It’s a nostalgic journey and a close look at the influences behind many of today’s biggest acts in música Mexicana. Audio subscribers to Texas Monthly can listen to episodes one week early, and get access to exclusive bonus material. Visit texasmonthly.com/audio to learn more.

This week, one of America’s greatest living poets, singer-songwriter Lucinda Williams, celebrates the easy beauty of one of Willie’s most cherished songs, “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground.” From there she’ll get into how inspiring it was to first see Willie do his thing when she moved to Austin in 1974; how weird it was, when she moved back to Austin in the 80s, to live in a run-down apartment complex-cum-artist’s colony that Willie owned on South Congress—sharing it with the old boyfriend, Clyde Woodward, she would immortalize in her song, “Lake Charles”—and what an absolute honor it was, twenty years later, to cut a duet with Willie on another of her songs, “Overtime.”

This week, Willie’s first-born, daughter Lana Nelson, talks about one of the songs her dad used to sing to her at bedtime, “Red Headed Stranger,” calling his breakthrough 1975 recording of it one of the first times an album of his sounded the way he did at home. From there she’ll walk us through some wonderful family history...like dodging rent-hungry landlords during the lean years, her dad’s hog farm/commune outside Nashville through the RCA years, and the session with Merle Haggard that produced “Pancho and Lefty.”

This week, one of the brightest stars of the Texas Country/Red Dirt scene, singer-songwriter Wade Bowen, examines “Me and Paul,” Willie’s 1971 chronicle of the road-warrior life he was sharing with his erstwhile partner in crime, drummer Paul English. It’s a perfect song for Wade to get into, partly because, as he rightly points out, Willie was a progenitor of the circuit where he makes his living now, but also because of the setting for our visit: Wade zoomed in from his tour bus, which was broken down somewhere in Iowa on his way to a gig.