In 1985, Alligator Records dropped Showdown!, a three-headed axe grind from blues guitar gods Albert Collins, Johnny Copeland, and Robert Cray —a lean, electrifying session that still cuts through the noise four decades later. Now, in 2025, Texas Headhunters picks up that torch with a fire all its own.

Ian Moore, Johnny Moeller, and Jesse Dayton—three of Texas’ fiercest fretmen—join forces at last as Texas Headhunters, a band born from deep roots, old friendships, and a shared reverence for the raw, swaggering spirit of Texas blues. Their self-titled debut isn’t a nostalgia trip. It’s a declaration.

Cut over five days at Willie Nelson’s Pedernales Studio, Texas Headhunters deals 12 tracks of grit, groove, and gut-level truth. No smoke, no mirrors—just seasoned musicians in a room, plugged in and turned up. The chemistry is real. The result is mind-blowing.

Clifford Antone looms large in the story of Texas Headhunters—the spiritual godfather of the project, and the man who first recognized the fire in each of its members. All three—Johnny, Jesse, and Ian—were among the last generation of young guns taken under his wing.

“We all go back to Antone’s, man,” says Dayton. “We were the next wave after the greats. Clifford saw something in each of us, and that club—that scene—was our proving ground.”

The idea for Texas Headhunters emerged from a conversation between Dayton and his manager about Clifford’s lasting influence. “You, Ian, and Johnny—y’all were Clifford’s last real discoveries. That’s not nothing. You oughta cut a record together. Feels like it’s time.” Dayton called Moore, who immediately brought up Showdown! as a reference point. When Moeller signed on, the wheels were in motion.

From the first sultry lick of “Pocket” to the final bends of “Burnin’ Daylight,” Texas Headhunters walks the line between swagger and soul—honoring the blues lineage while playing for keeps. “Pocket” sets the tone early: raw, vulnerable, and undeniable. “I love a modern lean into blues,” says Ian Moore. “I’m using this Paoletti guitar—it just had the right snarl.” It’s a standout moment, all ache and punch.

Jesse Dayton’s “Maggie Went Back to Mineola” follows, turning up the heat with a dirt-and-neon redemption tale. “A girl from Mineola goes to Dallas and becomes a stripper,” Dayton says. “She gets into all this stuff, then comes home to work at the Dollar General and try to go to church. That’s Ian on lead.”

Johnny Moeller takes the mic on “Everybody Loves You (When You’re Down),” opening with a gut-punch: “When you hit rock bottom, everybody loves you, Jack.” “I knew Johnny had to sing that one,” says Dayton. “He brought this whole vibe—wise, crafty, real as hell. People won’t see that Johnny coming.”

Long known for his razor-sharp guitar work with the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Moeller steps out with a vocal style that’s sly, soulful, and cooler than the other side of the pillow. His drawl channels the grit of Ray Wylie Hubbard and the shadowy swagger of Mason Ruffner. He doesn’t just sing—he inhabits these songs. And on “Gimme Some Love,” he trades bravado for something deeper. A hopeful plea. From hell to the train outta there.

Moore’s “Kathleen” delivers a vocal that cuts through a wall of snarling guitar. “Kathleen sounds like me,” he says, “but we’re all in there. We’re weaving.” Moeller brings the sting again on “Fool Don’t Play With Fire,” and Side A wraps with “Headhunters Theme”—a tight, swaggering instrumental that sounds like the band kicking in the door.

Side B opens with the roadhouse stomp of “Gun Barrel Boogie” and moves through the haunted grace of “Independence Day” and the simmering groove of “Seeing Around Corners.” Moore’s “Who Will Your Next Lover Be” adds late-night shimmer, while Moeller’s “Gimme Some Love” brings emotional gravity. Then comes “Burnin’ Daylight”—a tone-drenched instrumental coda that nods to Jeff Beck and Roy Buchanan, leaving nothing but smoke in its wake.

The interplay is the magic: Moore’s psychedelic edge, Moeller’s deep-pocket sting, Dayton’s outlaw grind. All three sing. All three write. All three bring fire. Yet it never feels crowded. When one steps forward, the others lean back just enough. It’s a dance, not a duel.

The three aren’t all Austin-based anymore—Moeller recently moved to New Orleans, Moore in the Pacific Northwest—but the bond remains unshakable. This is a record forged in shared experience, mutual respect, and that rare, intangible cool that once defined Austin blues. The album lands during the 50th anniversary of Antone’s, the legendary club that brought them all together.

“We all grew up on that sound,” says Moore. “Tailgators, LeRoi Brothers, T-Birds, Stevie. The blues in Austin was just cool. That’s what we’re feeling here.”

Texas Headhunters isn’t just a summit of three badasses with guitars. It’s a reclamation. A statement. A reminder that Texas blues, in all its grit and glory, still matters. It’s not retro—it’s revival. And it’s not a tribute—it’s a shot across the bow.

Dayton sums it up: “We tracked it live in the room. The way our heroes did. It felt right. We’ve all done records with other people, but this one... this one feels like the start of something.” And why wouldn’t they? In a time when roots music often plays it safe or leans too hard into the past, Texas Headhunters stands tall—bold, bluesy, and unmistakably Texan. Not a throwback. A throwdown.