Rusty Wier was an Austin original. He blazed a path, along with a select group of musicians, forging a “new” brand of music that came to be called “Progressive Country.”

It was a label that Wier detested.
“I describe my music as ‘Texas country, rockin, folkin’, blues gospel.’ Primarily, though, I’m an entertainer,” Wier said. “Everyone always called me ‘Rock and Roll Rusty.’”
After a year and a half battling cancer, Wier succumbed early Friday morning at his son Coby’s home in Driftwood. After a gathering of friends and family, Wier passed into “that good night,” as Shakespeare said.
His most famous song, “Don’t It Make You Wanna Dance,” was the breakout hit of the movie “Urban Cowboy,” performed by Bonnie Raitt. To date, it is a double-platinum selling song [more than 2 million copies sold]. Yet Wier’s influence will be felt by musicians for decades to come.
For most of the last 20 years, until he was stricken with cancer, he called Lake Travis home.
When Wier first learned he was suffering from stage 4 cancer in early 2008, he was told he only had six months to live. At first, he considered just “calling it a day.”
“I figured that if God wanted me to come home, well, I was ready,” Wier said just after learning of his condition in 2008.
In truth, Wier was numb.
“I wasn’t all that emotional about it at first,” Wier said. “I figured that if that was going to happen, that was just the way it was. Initially, I thought about not doing anything.”
Wier said he had probably been suffering from cancer for years before it was finally diagnosed.
“I really hadn’t been feeling good for almost a year,” Wier recalled after learning of the disease. “I was tired. Didn’t feel up to ’snuff. And I felt that way all the time. Finally, a bunch of my friends, finally talked me into going to the emergency room to have it checked out.”
It only took a blood test for doctors to realize something was amiss.
“At first they only thought I had cancer in the colon and they even thought they could operate on me and get it out,” Wier said. “But the next test showed it had spread into my liver. That changed everything. Being as sick as I was, I figured it was lights out.” Wier chuckled during an April 2008 interview with the Lake Travis View, still flashing is characteristic sense of humor.
Like all cancer patients quickly realize, the battle begins with a battery of tests. Wier said he was poked and prodded so much that he felt like a “human pin cushion.”
That isn’t typically something that reinforces warm feelings for a person who has a natural aversion to physicians, as Wier admitted.
“It was one time that it was good to be a musician,” Wier mused. “It turned out the doctor had been a member of a fraternity in college where I had frequently played gigs for about 10 or 11 years in a row. When the doc walked into the room singing ‘Don’t It Make You Wanna Dance,’ I knew I was probably in pretty good shape.”
Simply dealing with the treatment logistics of cancer are daunting — but Wier quickly learned that he was, in his own words, “surrounded by angels.”
Accustomed to living in the public eye, Wier quickly made his condition public. He believes it was the initial step in a chain of life-changing events.
“At first I thought about just giving it up,” he reiterated. “But then I started getting all these e-mails and letters from people — many of whom I hadn’t thought about in years — who genuinely cared about me.
“There were donations, cards, phone calls, and at a time when was still under the impression that I didn’t have any insurance,” Wier said, his voice tinged with emotion. “I thought, ‘Well, if all these people want me to stay alive, then I’m going for it.’ That’s when I decided to take the chemo treatments and do what they wanted me to do.”
So he fought the cancer with everything he had in him. For a time, Wier’s condition improved, as did his faith in God grew as his illness progressed.
“I had a lot of long talks with God,” Wier said. “And it helped. I had always believed in God, but when I became ill, I really became close to Him.”
He also credited his family for rallying around him in his hour of need.
“My kids gathered around the flagpole,” he noted. “They have really come through for me. They visit me, call me, and do whatever they can to lift my spirits — and it is a lot, believe me.”
One particular fundraiser really meant a lot to Wier.
Joe and Judy Ables, owners of the Saxon Pub, a long-popular watering hole in Austin, held a benefit for Wier.
“They did a big benefit there for me and it was one of the greatest moments of my life,” Wier said. “They had a bunch of guitar players that had all played with me — some of them going back 30 years. There must have been 25-30 guitar players there — and there wasn’t a slouch in the whole bunch.”
He very touched by the outpouring of support, but weakness from the illness and subsequent treatment forced him to perform infrequently.
Wier is survived by four children — Neil, Coby, Ceniza Chaeyanne and Bon; as well as many relatives, friends and fans.
The family will hold a private funeral service and a memorial service will be held this Thursday, Oct. 15 beginning at 6 p.m. at the Saxon Pub in Austin [1320 South Lamar — 512-448-2552]. There will be no cover charge as family, friends and admirers reminisce about Wier’s life and music.