I haven’t slept. I can’t get Carter out of my mind. I hate the news reports about how everything went down. I’m sick. I never saw Carter angry, rather he was always really sweet, funny and at times, kind of shy.

Carter Albrecht was one of the first musicians I met way back. He was this tall, serious, rather quiet character, and at first I was really intimidated by his presence. I think partly because of his good looks, and partly because he was a musical genius. I got to know Carter when he was booking/managing Muddy Waters. I was booking for The Lonelies and swung a Thursday night “artist in residence” type of gig for the boys, every Thursday night for over a year. I tried to attend every show, so I got to know Carter pretty well. Each and every time we had, either a quick chat, or a lengthy conversation, my intimidation turned into great affection for the man. Awe stuck around and respect and admiration came into play as well.

Hands down, Carter was the most talented artist I’ve ever met.

Crap.

I thought all night about how many people Carter touched, both musically and as a friend. I thought about his family. I wish I could have been at Barley House last night…dammit.

Chris has the right idea. As soon as I figure out how to do it, this site will go dark out of respect, admiration and deep love for Carter…God bless him, his family and his friends. You will be sorely and forever missed, my friend.

“Rockin’ Rock n Roll” by Sparrows

Carter Live at Club Dada – Recorded by The Fine Line

IMPORTANT UPDATE:

After reading what Danny has to say, and details, important details, left out of media and police reports, I’ll leave this as my last post for awhile rather than going dark. Carter deserves better than what he’s getting from the effin’ media and the rumor-mill.

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Danny Paul Balis wrote…

i found out this morning at 7:00 that my best friend was probably dead. i got the call from his girlfriend as she was being taken to the police station to be interviewed, as she saw the coroner’s van and a stretcher with a covered body being loaded into it as the cops drove her from the neighborhood. about an hour and a half later, she confirmed it. my brother, bandmate, roommate, and the closest friend i have ever known had been shot to death earlier at 4:07 a.m.

we’ve all read the updated story in the dallas morning news, and it seems pretty accurate, according to the play-by-play of events she gave me throughout the night. what we don’t know is why he ended up at the next door neighbor’s back door, banging and kicking it at 4:06. nor do we know why carter acted out with his girlfriend in a manner that i have never seen in my near-ten years of friendship with him.

this was not the carter albrecht i knew. the police report failed to mention that for the previous week, he and his girlfriend were trying quit smoking with the prescription drug, “chantix”. they had both started the program at the same time, and had been on it for a week. monday was supposed to be their quit day. carter had not slept much the night before, and had consumed approximately five cocktails in a two hour period on sunday eve. this was not unusual, as carter had a very good tolerance for the drink. chantix does clearly state on the box that it’s drowsy effects could be intensified by alcohol. the two also complained of having crazy, insane, almost horrific dreams that week. they jokingly referred to them as “chantix dreams” when comparing them. i later learned through a close friend that he had firsthand knowledge of two separate couples who had tried to quit smoking using chantix, and in each case, one spouse had tried to kill the other with no previous domestic conflct. one was successful, and many refer to this drug as a psychotic.

was it a combination of sleep deprivation, booze, and the stop-smoking pills that sent him off? it’s the only explanation i can even think of. what was described to me sounded like a walking black out. in my years of knowing him, and all the girls he dated, i have never once heard of him getting abusive or physical with them. it was not his character. especially with the woman that i know for a fact he loved dearly. unfortunately, the morning news story paints him as a batterer to the casual reader that did not know him. this, he was undeniably not.

so why banging on the next door neighbor’s back door? who knows. same waking black out state? confusion thinking he was knocking on his girlfriend’s door? this we will never know. any other explanation just doesn’t add up.

what i can tell you about carter is that he was the best musician i have ever played with. it may sound trite, but it was an honor to play music with him, create and record with him, laugh and joke with him, for the better part of the last ten years. he was a unique musician. i don’t think enough people got to hear him. not only was he the backbone of sorta, playing keys and innovative guitar, he was my favorite solo artist/bandleader i’ve seen closely. if you got him, you got him. he was one of a kind. a dylan. an elliott smith. he had “it”. that extra something that set him apart from basically everyone else. i often joked with him that no one would really appreciate him until he died. his soulful, yet punk voice…his genius lyrics that were probably above the heads of most. and his playing. wow. today, when dozens of musicians gathered at our house, trying to make sense of this mess, i said more than once that “the thing that’s so wasteful about him being gone, is that he was better than all of us.” if anyone was going to save music in the dallas scene, it was him.

he had many opportunities to go to new york, LA, and could have played sideman to anyone. but he chose to stay in dallas, where his family lived, his friends played, and his loyalty was rooted. he was a character-driven slave to honesty. and i learned alot about being truthful and up-front from him. you could hear it in his voice, his words, in the general way he carried himself. he was the real deal. most of the rest of us were just poseurs next to him.

he meant the world to me. i will never see him again on this earth, and i am heartbroken from it. i can’t think about tomorrow because he is supposed to be there. he is supposed to be playing his piano in the dining room, or watching the rangers while eating some crap from a greenville fast-food place. we are supposed to talk about the goofy stuff that happened on the hardline that day. we are supposed to talk about books (usually a one-sided conversation with me on the short side) and the mavs and girls and music.

but my best friend isn’t here anymore. and i honestly don’t know what to do.

i guess the only thing left to do, is let everyone in on something you may not have known. carter was a very intelligent guy. smart as hell. borderline genius. so my final dig on my buddy is this…the last movie he watched was “snakes on a plane”. well, to his credit, he didn’t watch all of it. love you, buddy.

It’s funny that Danny mentioned the numerous opportunities Carter had to tour the world, move to NYC or L.A. because one my most memorable conversations with Carter was about that. We were at Barley House one night and I was gushing over Carter and asking him why the hell he sticks around Dallas. He pretty much said to me what Danny said above, “I like it here. My friends are here. I’m happy, why screw it up?” I never forgot that, and never will.

There was a night in my life that I’d just assume forget. In fact, I can’t remember any of it. It was Christmas Eve. A mere 4-days after turning a year older, the first Christmas Eve in decades that wasn’t spent at my parent’s house in Richardson. After only a few glasses of wine, my memory of the night is nil. Something inside my head flicked off…or on…and I became a raving lunatic. I was out of control, saying and doing things unimaginable to me the next day. I hate conflict. I hate confrontation. I’ll go to great lengths to avoid it…so going nuts and saying hateful horrible things to the family that I love, on Christmas Eve fergoodnessake… Well sometimes a little booze, a lot of stress, and in Carter’s case, additional questionably safe quit-smoking pills can push a person to do things totally out of character — even a “walking black out” as Danny said above. I guess I’m trying to make sense of a situation that was so clearly out of character for Carter. I’ve been there…or at least I was there in person that night, but there was nothing conscious about it. I feel strongly that Carter wasn’t himself, perhaps not even consciously aware of what was happening.

I guess the one hope I have in all this is that people don’t buy into every written word out there, except from the folks who knew Carter. He was an exceptional man, and I’m damn lucky to have known him at all.

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Chris Holt writes:

My heart is completely shattered right now at the loss of my friend and bandmate Carter.

I’m at a loss, trying to make sense of the bizarre set of circumstances surrounding his untimely death, so I’ll keep from speculating about it, for now. All I will say is that Carter was not a violent person, and I hope that people will not dwell upon this bullshit media image of him as a batterer. That was most definitely not the Carter that I knew and loved.

I remember when I first became aware of him. It was eleven years ago, and I was playing in a band called Walter Mitty. Carter was a member of The Dead Thing and its off-shoot Minglewood, even though, by his own admission, he couldn’t stand the Dead. He just enjoyed playing with those guys, and the band was a perfect outlet for his prodigious piano playing. I remember my bandmate James and I watching him in awe as he effortlessly mixed lightning fast improvisations, with soulful vocals. The guy was just amazing.

Carter used to get up and jam with Mitty fairly regularly back in ’97 and ’98, and it was always inspiring to watch him figure out how to play our songs on the spot. And these were not three chord songs. He just had a brain that processed music instantly and he made it look effortless, every time. My personal favorite was when we covered “Sweet Jane” and he just jumped up onstage and decided to sing it, before I had a chance to approach the mic. He had the most confident look that spoke volumes – he was saying “you know I’m gonna sing the shit out of this” and he did exactly that. From that day forward, every time we saw him at one of our shows, we’d fire up “Sweet Jane” and he’d leap onto the stage and the room would light up.

What’s amazing about him is that he was so humble. I mean, he knew that he was the shit. He had to have known. But he never acted like he was better than anyone. He was so smart and so knowledgeable about music and many other things, but he was never condescending. When we were in Sorta together, he could sometimes be a harsh critic, whether it was my phrasing, my singing, my tone, a song arrangement, Danny’s bassline, a drum fill – whatever. He was never shy about speaking his mind and doing what he believed was best for the song. It was never about his ego, it was always about the song. I think that’s why Carter was in Sorta in the first place. He knew that Trey was a brilliant songwriter, and he truly believed in the band. His own songs were amazing, and he was a born bandleader, but the fact that he was willing to be “one of the guys” in so many different bands showed how much he cared about other peoples’ songs.

One thing I remember about hanging out with him is that he was just about the funniest dude ever. Sitting on the back porch with the Sorta guys was always a riot – it was the best part of rehearsal. Listening to Carter and Danny riff about any given topic was enough to have you rolling on the floor at any given moment. Those two had such a rapport, they fed off each other and made each other laugh while cracking the rest of us up. It was obvious they loved each other very much, like brothers.

We played a show together at Bend Studio just a few weeks ago. I did my solo acoustic set and Carter played his after me. I remember wanting to go first because I just couldn’t fathom having to follow him. He said the same thing about me, but I was like “whatever”. I knew that he would own that room, and I just wanted to sit back and listen, I didn’t want to worry about having to play after him. He did a set that consisted almost entirely of new songs from his upcoming solo record, and they were so fucking amazing. He dedicated “No More Country Living” to me, knowing that it was my favorite. And after the show, he slipped me a disc of the rough mixes of the new album. I’ve spent nearly every day since then listening to it, in awe of his lyrics and his voice. I think it’s the best thing he’s ever done, and I know that all of us that are close to him will do whatever it takes to make sure it gets released. I told him a few days later that his album would be “the next Van Occupanther” and he seemed genuinely moved by the compliment. We sat at the bar that night and drank til close, talking about his songs and his amazing gift for words. He jokingly told me that he wanted to be the first musician to win a Pulitzer. Strangely, I think he could’ve done it. I sat up last night after the Barley House, crying and listening to his new songs in my car. I can only hope that everyone else gets to hear them.

I remember the last time I saw him. It was last Thursday night, the day before I left town for Labor Day weekend. We were over at Tom’s, working on the Sorta record. We talked about arrangements for songs and played Madden football on X-box. I remember I begged him to show me the G-major 9 tuning that he used for several of the songs on his new record and he showed me a snippet of how to play “Jesus Lite”, which is the best song he’s ever written, in my opinion. He asked me to show him how to play “The Thief”, a song of mine, and he said how much he loved the opening riff. He was very complimentary of The Slack record, and it meant the world to me, cause I knew that Carter wasn’t a bullshitter. If he didn’t like it, he’d tell you, or if he wanted to spare your feelings, he’d just keep quiet. But he went out of his way to compliment me and it made me feel great. Tom’s girlfriend Cris made us chocolate malts and we scarfed them down and joked around some more before he said he was gonna get some sleep. He walked out the door and I never saw him again.

I’m just heartbroken and devastated by all this. We’d been friends for twelve years and I feel like I was just finally starting to really get to know him. The thing that sucks now is that not only will I never laugh with my friend again, but I won’t be able to share that musical connection. His genius was so powerful, you just couldn’t help but be in awe of him. There were so many times in Sorta, when I just deferred to him, or asked for advice, because I truly believed that he would steer me in the right direction. This coming from me, the guy who is supposed to be the “musician of the year”. Whatever…I wasn’t even the best musician in my band. I could never touch Carter…none of us could. His talents were so unique, and every note he played was so fucking soulful. Honestly, I can’t imagine how we’re going to go on.

It’s probably too early to even think about it, but I can’t help but wonder what we’re gonna do. I just don’t know how we could ever fill his shoes, or how anyone could, for that matter. It crushes me to even think of playing those songs without looking over at him, whether for approval or just a laugh. I may never get over it.

My heart goes out to Ryann and Danny and his parents and my bandmates and all our friends and every one else that was ever close to him. This is the worst fucking thing ever. Carter was one in a million.

I will miss him forever.

CH
9/4/07

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Glen Reynolds wrote:

This is a huge loss for the whole music scene. Carter was also a lynchpin in the “30-something” rock heroes crowd. I remember a Chomsky show @ Galaxy that he played on the bill of. This was the Limes era and I thought they were pretty good. Then I found out that basically he and Ward were just doing the Limes for kicks and how many other musical things he was a part of. That blew me away. He was a Bach of all trades! After that we’d see each other @ Barley or at shows and he would always have an anecdote about something trivial that was super-funny. I used to love the times I got to exchange one-liners and anecdotes w/ him and Danny. Anyway, sorry that this had to happen to you guys; it’s fucking pointless (like most handgun deaths) and you guys should never have had to deal with it. I’ll be thinking about you and Balis…….. Glen

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Salim Nourallah wrote:

carter
we’re all just barely here

my friend carter albrecht is gone
just like that
murdered this morning
i’m never gonna see him again
he walked out of my studio wednesday night
like so many other times before
“see you later man – have fun in europe”
as we exchanged nonchalant goodbyes
never in my wildest dreams
would i have thought that was the last time
i would ever see him
i am in complete and total disbelief
i am heartbroken

i’ve known carter for over 10 years
he played on each one of my records
he was always there when i called
to come over and scatter brilliance throughout any song he touched
he played on countless recordings that i’ve made here at pleasantry lane
he was a cornerstone of our music community
we were working on his first solo album
it’s one of the best things i’ve ever been invovled with
i had to pinch myself every time he played a new song
they were all so good

music wasn’t something carter did

it was in his soul

i’m sick to my stomach that he wasn’t able to finish his record
that the rest of the world will never know of his brilliance
he was one of the most talented musicians i’ve ever been around
a beautiful kind person
consumed by music
it poured out of every part of his being
he was an amazing guitarist
pianist
singer
writer
james dean cool with the passion of joe strummer
and funny too
he was loved by so many
he was truly one of a kind
his senseless death
is a devasting loss for the dallas music community
my heart goes out to his parents and family
and to all who loved him
it will never be the same here without him

good bye, carter

i love you

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Zac Crain (on FrontBurner) wrote:

…Though I would be amazed by the things he could do with a guitar or a piano or even just a microphone countless times over the next eight years , nothing he ever did onstage or in a studio was quite so impressive as what he could do, who he could be, when he was just milling around the bar at Barley House, where he will forevermore be the patron saint.

One of the memories of Carter that sticks more than others happened during one of those times. When he saw me walk into the bar, he came right over; he clearly had something to say that couldn’t wait. Carter told me that he’d been sitting on his porch a few days earlier, and a curly haired man walked up and asked if he lived there. The man looked familiar, and only after telling him that, yes, he lived there did he realize who it was: Mickey Raphael, Willie Nelson’s longtime harmonica player.

Turns out that Raphael used to live in the house, too, and he was just dropping by while he was in town. When Carter told him that he was also in a band, Mickey told him he was happy that the house was still occupied by a fellow musician. Carter, knowing I was also a huge Willie Nelson fan, knew I would appreciate the story. But the way he beamed when he told me, it was clear the story was about something else. The point wasn’t that Mickey Raphael used to live in his house. The point was that Mickey Raphael considered Carter a colleague. He had made it.

Maybe he’d finally made it as a musician. But he’d made it as a man a long time before that….READ IT ALL.

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Bryan Wakeland wrote:

A FEW WORDS ABOUT CARTER…..

Well……I cant say it anymore clear than Danny did about Carter…..He was truly a very gifted, special person, & one HELL of a songwriter/musician…..as i write this i am in Manchester, England, & just found out Carter, my friend is gone……. I feel very lucky to have gotten to know him, & even more lucky to have gotten to play with him for a couple of yrs in the SPARROWS…….i LOVE his music!!!!

My thoughts, & prayers go out to his family, & all who knew him….

Carter, you are the real deal !! You will be truly missed…

love you brotha!! BW

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Eric (Prophet) wrote:

My Best friend during my high school years was shot and killed early monday morning. I can’t begin to tell you what an amazing person this man was, but i will try to at least post a few stories and memories so that you can have some idea of what Carter meant to me.

Carter and I met in 8th grade in science class. He was unfortunate enough to be stuck with me as a lab partner. Carter was a genius. He was by far the smartest person in our high school class of 335 people. He would have been valedictorian, had he not opted out of taking some higher education classes in favor of music classes. I believe he ended up 4th in class, and I truly believe that deep down he didn’t want to be valedictorian because he didn’t like being under the spotlight.

Carter was the most gifted and talented person I have ever met. During his younger years he took piano lessons, which later became very fruitful. He was regarded as one of the best pianists in the state of Kansas his senior year in high school and was rewarded with a huge piano scholarship at SMU, who had one of the top 5 music schools in the country. Carter could have gone to Juliard but chose a lesser school in favor of having a social life. Again, he didn’t seem to enjoy the limelight.

After graduation with a degree in piano performance Carter began giving piano lessons and forming bands. He recorded many songs over the years with many bands and groups including Edie Brickell, Paul Simon, Sparrows and several other local Dallas Bands. He was currently involved in an up & coming band from Dallas called Sorta, who won the 2006 Dallas Observer award for best overall act. Carter was also awarded best musician in Dallas. He was working on a solo album that many thought would be his best work to date.

More importantly for me personally was the time we spent growing up together. Countless memories come to mind and the more I reflect on what Carter and I did together the more I realize what a profound influence he had on me…

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Jayson Bales wrote:

Certain events of the past made me swear to myself I would never make this blog personal again. I was only going to write about baseball or politics, two subjects I am passionate about but certainly aren’t part of my everyday person. But here I am breaking my own rule because of Carter Albrecht, simply one of the gentlest souls and most inspiring artists I’ve ever encountered.
I don’t know what to really write about Carter. I’ve been numb and a bit distracted all day. My mind has raced. I don’t feel that I knew him all that well, although my wife and I were his landlords, he played on my album, and I did shows with him, both acoustic and with him sitting in with my band on keyboards. Despite all of this, I was always intimidated a little by Carter, though he never made me feel that way. I just admired and respected him that much.

Carter was the definition of cool….He had the image and persona of a Bob Dylan or James Dean. People were attracted to him. But he had an amazing quality in that once you got up close to him and actually talked with him; he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room. He made you feel as though you were important. He always had time for you. From a distance he seemed somewhat unapproachable. But in reality he was one of the most approachable and unassuming persons you could ever meet. Which makes it so remarkable because he was a star, no doubt about it. He was a musical star that acted like the guy next door. One of the greatest compliments I’ll ever receive about my music is when he told me he liked specific songs of mine. He listened. He got it. And for someone of that caliber to notice what I was doing was pretty cool. I get the feeling though he made a lot of people feel that way and he really believed it. He was so much better; had so much more talent than most of us; yet he made you feel as though your music was special; that you were special. I have no doubt he was sincere, which makes it even more absurd.

It’s tragic when great art is lost and Carter’s death is certainly a tragic loss. But Carter was bigger than his art. He represented the Dallas music community. He validated the music scene in Dallas. And most important, he was a real person, with real feelings, and real love, and he had people who loved him. When Salim called yesterday I was in Chicago at the Cubs game, having the time of my life. My heart sank. I was sick at my stomach. Why I wondered? This guy isn’t my best friend. I’m not emotional. I’m compassionate, but have few attachments. I couldn’t figure it out. But I was sick. I was hurt. I felt loss.

I believe he’s in a better place. I believe in a God and I believe God wants Carter there with him and that he’s there, wherever that is. But I hurt for his family. I hurt for his closest friends. And I hurt that he’s being somewhat misrepresented in the national media.
Salim and Jayme came over tonight. The kids played and we ate dinner. We talked. And we agreed that this is a time to celebrate and honor Carter’s life. He was a special person, and you didn’t have to spend much time in a room with him to realize that. I hope that in the coming days, months, and beyond, his life and contributions will be celebrated and his legacy, particularly in the Dallas music community, will be honored.

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Jeff Liles wrote:

My friend Carter Albrecht was shot and killed early yesterday morning.

The media would lead you to believe that Carter was killed after a night of hard drinking in East Dallas, that he severely beat his girlfriend and then tried to break into her next door neighbor’s home.

I knew Carter Albrecht, and this was not the person who was depicted in these media reports. Carter was a gentleman, and he had an amazing sense of humor. He wasn’t violent or abusive and he loved his girlfriend dearly.

This morning I began to hear things that started to make some sense. The couple had recently begun taking a prescription anti-smoking medication that had serious side effects. They weren’t doing well on the medication. Others who had taken the drug in the past recounted episodes of violence and suicidal thoughts. Combined with the effects of alcohol, well… there you have it.

I had the chance to visit with Carter during the weekend of Edie Brickell’s surprise 40th birthday party in NYC. On the last night, we sat on the roof her building with Mark Durham and his wife twisting joints and talking about music. A couple of months later Mark died in an auto accident in Maui. Now, Carter is gone as well.

This life experience is a precious gift, we should never take it for granted. Our best and brightest won’t be around forever.

Carter Albrecht was a blessed soul, a gifted musician and a righteous human being. To say he will be missed is an understatement. The Dallas music community will simply never be the same.

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Ward Richmond wrote:

Carter was not ever a Slick Fifty Seven fan per se and we knew this. Nevertheless, I like to think he enjoyed our company enough that he’d always drop into the studio with about 5 minutes notice and contribute mind blowing instrumentation to the bulk of our recordings!

One of my favorite times like this was In January 2005. Carter helped one of my songs come to life with NASCAR speedin’, heart poundin’, boom boom boomin’ honky tonk piano.

True to Carter’s form, he breezed into the studio, listened to the song about twice, smirked and giggled, lit up an American Spirit & 4 minutes later his fingers were bleeding after he fucking nailed his one take! Then he kissed me on the cheek and it was Beer:30, mama! It was very nice! Check my profile and hear for yourself.

I’ll miss you so much my brother!

WR

G.R.I.D. wrote:

Why am I writing this? Someone who’s never met the guy? Probably because we ran in some of the same circles and of course some of my friends have been hit hard by this. Transference perhaps.

I guess I can represent those who didn’t really know they were affected by this man. I just have the music and of course the few times I’ve seen Sorta live. There’s a now eerie feeling when I listen to their Strange and Sad But True cd. I listen to the words a little more and pay attention to the nuances I hadn’t noticed before. I pick Sorta mostly because they are all I have on my iTunes with Albrecht’s involvement and I’m too lazy to go digging through my cd’s that are undeniably out of categorical order somewhere in my closet. But what I love about the album is enhanced tenfold right now because listening to it again – now – makes somewhat of a difference. It’s more poignant than it was and richer and feels good taking a bite into it – like a really good PB & J sandwich. Which means a lot to me cause I love those.

Then I read this outpouring from music fans and writers and musicians and see this really wonderful thing happen. There’s this collective of people out there feeling the same thing. For a moment, there’s no catty remarks about which band is crappy or which writer is better or what blog is on top of the others or whatever. This may sound super cheesy but my mind’s eye sees all of that above as pieces of a great puzzle that comes together revealing Albrecht’s face. There’s something going on around Dallas.

While his death is a tragedy, it opens our eyes a bit. A colleague and I sort of blew off some of the “bandwagon mourning” and chuckled at someone having an “afterparty” after the wake yesterday. And now I see that everyone just has to grieve in a certain way And for the people like me who had no true connection to him, there still can be a sadness but only as long as we can remember why we/I were affected in the first place and grieve for a bit but appreciate what we got to listen to and experience a whole lot more.

It is strange and sad but true.

Thank you Carter Albrecht for what I didn’t know you had given me.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sarah Hepola wrote:

Food critics talk about how hard it is to come up with different ways to say “tastes good.” For Dallas music writers, it was coming up with different ways to describe Carter Albrecht. There were only so many times you could say “mega-talented” without sounding like the hack you very well might have been. And how do you describe a guy like Carter, anyway? There was the cigarette dangling from the lips. There were his long, galloping fingers on the keys. The flash of a smile from the stage. The presence. He was the great musician that other great musicians wanted to be. The first time I wrote about Carter’s band, Sorta, I kept trying out different ways to describe him. I called him “six-foot-god-knows-what” and pretty much left it at that.

I should back up. Carter Albrecht was a musician in Dallas. For as long as I knew Dallas music, he was pretty much THE musician in Dallas. He was a songwriter and classically trained pianist who also played guitar. But I loved him best as a frontman, with his big booming voice that reminded me, in all the best ways, of Freddie Mercury. I’m pretty sure Carter disagreed with this, but he was nice about it. Which was the surprising thing about Carter, who should have had an ego bigger than his presence. He was a sweet guy. I once wrote about watching his band play while his father Ken watched in the audience. His dad was so proud. And his father kept lending me his lighter for my smokes, and high-fiving me in between songs. Later, Carter framed that article and gave it to his dad. I’d like to think this had everything to do with what a great writer I am, but I suspect it was also a cheap gift.

A few weeks after we met, Carter called me at the Dallas Observer office. He sounded as though he might have just woken up. It was 2pm, and he probably had. “Hey, what’s the name of that book about emo?” he asked me. “I’m at this Barnes & Noble and I need to buy this book and I thought you might know.” I didn’t, but Google did. “Hey, thanks, man!” he told me. I hung up, beaming that Carter Albrecht had called me from a Barnes & Noble. Me! He called me!

See, that was the strange thing about being a music editor. If you’ve seen Almost Famous, you know where this is headed. I was supposed to maintain a cold, critical distance, but some of these guys–man, I was just glad to know them. Carter was like that, along with all the guys in his bands. Danny and Ward and the two Treys and Chris. We would bullshit in the Barley House till closing time, and then stick around slurry and chainsmoking till 4am, just finishing our conversations. What did we talk about? Stupid stuff, mostly. Rolling Stones versus the Beatles. Rolling Stones versus the Who. We had the same conversations over and over, because no one could remember how the conversations ever turned out.

Around the time I moved to New York, Carter started playing with the New Bohemians. He came up to the city to do some recording with Edie Brickell, and called me one night to hang out. (Me! He called me!) I was at a Rhett Miller show at the Bowery Ballroom, and I didn’t hear the phone ring. But I’ll never forget sitting at the front bar with two girlfriends when the doors bust open and Carter Albrecht walked in, all six-foot-god-knows-what. “I thought I might find you here,” he said.

“Oh my God,” the girls said, practically at once. “Who the hell IS THAT?”

Carter had a way with the ladies. I always felt lucky that, as much as I adored Carter, I was immune to this lust. Lucky because it allowed me to sit back and enjoy the circus–the way girls’ eyes would grow big when they met him, how they’d lean in closer, toss back their hair nervously, hoping to somehow draw in this beautiful, beautiful man. It was so amusing. How you would introduce him to a girl, and a certain amount of time would tick by before they sidled up and asked, casual as can be, “So anyway, umm, does Carter have a girlfriend??”

That night when we met at the Bowery, we hopped in a cab and sped over to some crowded bar on the Lower East Side. It was late, and we were both pretty looped, and also grateful to have a little piece of the Dallas comfort we were both missing in the big city. “Those girls are hot for you!” I whispered when we got in the cab. I was hoping to orchestrate some kind of high drama, another circus I might sit back and enjoy.

“I don’t do that anymore,” he said. “I’m in love.” As much as anything he has ever done–any musical accomplishment, be it singing or writing or playing–Carter seemed so proud of this.

The last time I saw Carter Albrecht was at the Barley House in Christmas of 2005. It was late, near closing time, and it was one of the first times I’d been back since I’d left town. He and I kept hugging each other. I don’t know why. Party because we were bombed. But also because Carter, more than most people I knew, was proud of me for moving to New York. It was something he’d thought about doing, and decided against. He wanted to stay in Dallas, where his friends and his family were, and the only thing that bothered me about that decision was that I worried it meant no one outside Dallas would ever get to know him. In one of my last columns as music editor, I wrote, “Carter Albrecht, get off your barstool and get famous already.” The next time I saw him (at the bar, of course), he pulled me aside. “Hey, I have a problem with what you wrote,” he told me. My stomach dropped, and for a second, I worried I might have offended him. “I never sit on a barstool,” he said with a wink. “Everyone knows I stand.”

I loved Carter Albrecht, and many, many people loved Carter Albrecht. He was shot and killed early Monday morning. I can’t imagine a worse ending to this story than that.

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Josh Venable wrote:

Carter Albrecht from Sparrows, Sorta and New Bohemians was killed early yesterday. He was a very nice person and amazingly talented. We’ll be dedicating Center Stage to him on Sunday at 6:30P on the Adv Club. We’ll also be giving away as many copies of Sorta and Sparrows cds as I can get my hands on. He’ll be missed.

Ally David wrote:

In Loving Memory of Our Friend
A dear, beautiful, and brilliant friend and highly respected and greatly loved member of the music community was tragically shot and killed early Monday morning in Dallas. Carter Albrecht was a member of the Dallas based band Sorta, and toured with the New Bohemians and Charlie Sexton. He also played solo at Bend Studio and other Dallas area venues regularly.
We will all miss him dearly.