Michael Corcoran, prominent Austin music journalist and historian, has died. He was 68.
Family members confirmed Monday afternoon that he was found deceased in his Buda residence. An autopsy has been scheduled to determine the cause of death.
Corcoran, who wrote in a sometimes gruff, funny, inimitable manner for the American-Statesman, Austin Chronicle, Dallas Morning News, Spin, National Lampoon and other publications, spent the past years as a serious historian, publishing books about sometimes unsung Texas music and musicians.
"The most important thing to remember about Corcoran was that he wrote for the National Lampoon," said Pat Beach, who worked alongside Corcoran at the Statesman after 1997. "He later described himself as a 'roast critic.' He also said he regretted some of those barbs. Obviously, he had issues. He didn't take care of himself. But he became this incredible scholar of Texas music."
Among his highly praised books were "Ghost Notes: Pioneering Spirits of Texas Music" and "All Over the Map: "True Heroes of Texas Music." His most recent work was published on "Michael Corcoran's Overserved" on Substack.
Corcoran reveled in sports and made no secret of wanting to join the ranks of the newspaper's sports reporters. He briefly wrote a social column for the Statesman, but his style of humor rubbed his celebrated subjects the wrong way.
South by Southwest co-founder Roland Swenson met Corcoran around 1985 at the Austin Chronicle, when the latter started covering music for the alt-weekly. The paper's offices were located down the street from Corcoran’s apartment, which was connected to a tattoo parlor.(Corcoran sported eye-catching tattoos long before doing so became widely stylish. One depicted a hula dancer; another, John F. Kennedy Jr. saluting his father's casket. In fact, he wrote a memorable story about the JFK Jr. ink.)
“He was hilarious, and nobody had ever really gotten away with the stuff that he did,” Swenson told the Statesman of his impression of the new voice at the Chronicle.
Corcoran evinced a mix of brazen front-footedness and self-effacement that alchemized into a unique charm, and Swenson said he saw that duality in the late writer, whom he called one of his best friends.
“He could be sweet, he could be acidic, and I think that’s why people would laugh when he would say something funny," Swenson said. “He was kind of fearless. He would say what he thought, even when it made people mad, and it certainly made people mad. But there was also this lovable quality about him, too. He would make jokes about himself as much as everybody else.”
Corcoran grew up in a military family in Hawaii, exposed to an incredibly diverse set of musical traditions, including those on the islands and the mainland. He appeared able to cut through the performative pretensions of pop culture to find the authentic core of a musician's artistry. Corcoran later wrote that he got his start writing about music in the mid-'70s as a contributor — sometimes unsolicited — for Sunbums magazine, Oahu’s counterculture rag.
Twice nominated for Grammy Awards for his album liner notes, Corcoran championed forms of music that had fallen through the media cracks, including underreported Black music, such as the Jones Family Singers gospel band.
“My group obtained much success because your father supported us 100%,” Fred Jones of the Texas gospel band wrote in response to the news of Corcoran’s passing as shared by his son on Facebook. “This one hits hard, very hard.”
Austin360 editor Deborah Sengupta Stith was one of the music writers who followed Corcoran at the Statesman.
"My former colleague was a brilliant and complicated man," Stith said. "With deft wordcraft and evocative imagery, he wrote with power and authority. He distilled sounds, sights and smells into gorgeous prose that transported the reader into the scene. He didn't tell you about the old bluesman — oh, he loved the old bluesmen — he captured the creak of the rocking chair, the curl of marijuana smoke and the wry, world-wizened laugh as you joined him on the porch with his subject.
"He loved history and went to great lengths to uncover the stories of Texas’s forgotten legends, particularly Black artists who might otherwise have been lost to time. I remember his excitement as he unwound the story of the great gospel singer and pianist Arizona Dranes. She was one of the many 'True Texas Legends' he extolled. These deeply reported stories were never widely read — Corky used to joke that when he needed to take his ego down, he’d look at the Amazon rankings for his book — but his labors of love were invaluable contributions to the canon of Texas history."
For two years, Corcoran was married to retired nonprofit consultant Victoria Corcoran, formerly of Dallas, now living in Maine. He leaves behind their son Jack Corcoran.
Reporter Matthew Odam contributed to this story.
