Ryan Bingham contrasts Austin's supportive music scene with California's bureaucratic failures, detailing wolf migrations across 370 miles and criticizing wildlife management for ignoring livestock conflicts. He recounts his rodeo origins, severe injuries without insurance, and transition to acting via Taylor Sheridan, emphasizing how internet accessibility allows artists like Oliver Anthony to retain ownership against predatory contracts. Ultimately, Bingham argues that genuine creativity survives commercialization when creators protect their personal connection to music over chasing fame. [Automatically generated summary]
I've really grown to just appreciate the community around here in Austin and the Hill Country area and all of that stuff.
I definitely.
Wouldn't have the career, I don't think, if it wouldn't have been for the community around here that just supporting songwriters and music and the way that they do, it's pretty incredible.
When they get behind anything, it's just like, it just feels so good to see that many people come together and have that support.
The character was kind of a smaller role, and you know, most of the time I'd work like one or two days a week, and then the rest of the time I'd just be like fly fishing and get lost in the mountains and just disappear out there.
I mean, that's also one of the things that's highlighted by the whole series, all the different Yellowstone series, the older ones with Harrison Ford, and they really do explain a lot.
I mean, it's kind of a cool chunk of history to see how this all got started, the kind of people that had to survive out there when all you had is a fireplace.
I love all those mountain men stories, Jim Bridger and all that stuff.
It's just, Like, man, and there is something you get up there in those mountains, it gets into you, it gets in mountains, get into your bones, it gets into your blood, and it's a different thing, man.
I it's a spiritual place, it is, and it's also like the most potent art, like it's nature's art, and you don't think of it as art, but god, it's so beautiful.
It's like stunt, like sometimes when you're up there, you just have to stop and look, like, god, this is gorgeous, and it's overwhelming if you have it, it has a it gives you a feeling.
There's like it's a Almost like a drug that hits you because of the beauty of it all.
Like you take it in with the blue sky, you see the clouds and the mountain, and maybe there's a lake below you in the canyon, and you're like, God, this is gorgeous.
It's like you feel it in your DNA, man.
It's like your body knows, like, this is a fertile, beautiful place that's filled with life, and this should excite you.
So all your natural human reward instincts are all like, this is the place I should be.
Like, look at the sky, look at the lake, look at the mountains.
We just tie a rope between two trees with a tarp for sleeping at night and always post up a couple of guys to watch over the horses at night.
And I remember one morning I woke up and it was in June, you know, but we were way back in there and I woke up and the snow was coming down and I, I just kind of raised my head up and I was looking out at the horses, and the snow was just falling down on their backs.
And there was that moment in me, I was like, I don't know if I'm ever going back.
Yeah, you know, no phones, there's no nothing, no distractions, and it's just like you all your senses heighten your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell like all of that stuff.
And you know, I remember going into it, you know, I didn't know what to expect really.
I've done some camping and things like that and grew up ranching and all that, but this was a way different deal.
And I remember I just had this like backpack full of gear, you know, and by the time I got out of there.
Like, I just felt like all I needed was a pair of scissors and some way to start some fire, you know, and that was about it.
But a lot of times he just goes entirely by himself.
And they're very, very interesting.
Like he starts his own fire.
He'll figure out how to get food.
He figures out how to purify water.
He's taken salt water and made his own thing that kind of distills it into fresh water and removes the salt.
Like very slowly by using a piece of bamboo and fire and boiling the water in the bamboo so that, like, The water evaporates and then drips down, and it doesn't have salt in it, apparently.
Fly fishing and entomology, and all these just kind of little skills.
But one thing that really stuck with me was a fire building kind of drill when we started.
It was kind of right when we first caught there, and it was pretty wet and it had been snowing.
And there's only six of us, you know, and we're guys from kind of all over the country.
And I grew up in New Mexico and West Texas where it's pretty dry, you know, and you kind of build a fire, you can kind of just take some little small twigs and get a little fire going, you know.
And so he goes, All right, you got two minutes to build a fire, and you need to have, you know, like a flame to be three or four feet high.
And man, I'm running around grabbing like little sticks and twigs.
And I'm just, we have a lighter too.
You know, I'm just struggling.
It's just smoking and we can't get it going.
I look over and there's a kid from Alaska in the class.
And he just runs over to this big dead pine tree and just breaks off the biggest branch of dead, you know, pine needles and takes his lighter and just, within like five seconds, has this massive fire going.
I was like, okay, that's how you do that, you know?
And it was so, Just the littlest things, you know, to have that knowledge, you know.
And part of it was, you know, he was explaining to us the instructor.
He's like, Yeah, you know, if you're out here with, you're guiding somebody that's hunting, maybe he's an elderly guy or somebody gets hurt and you get caught back in the mountains and it's snowing.
It's like, you better get a fire going and keep them warm real quick, you know.
So there was always a, you know, a reason and a purpose behind it, which was really cool.
And I'll never, those are some of the things I'll never forget.
So, we, this one day, and we were trying to figure out things to light on fire because everything's soaking wet.
And so, we got some pieces of wood from like underneath the bottom of trees and shit and dead trees that were covered by other things that were kind of sort of a little bit dry.
And we used Fritos.
And Fritos, when you light them, man, it's crazy how much oil is in those things.
You know, it's just like some of the small things or whatever.
Even up at my place in Topanga, you know, you want to build some fence or whatever.
I do, I feel lucky.
I've got a couple of really good friends up there, neighbors that, you know, love to come, you know, work with their hands andor get their hands dirty and we'll build stuff.
And but like, man, in Texas, you want to like weld something or you need something with a tractor, some heavy equipment thing, you know, like you're not getting that done in California.
I was always a little guy too, so I had to use and learn how to.
Use leverage real quick, roll those bells up on your knee.
I think one of the last times I did that, I remember, is I was going to school in Stephenville, Texas, and had a good friend over in Glen Rose, and it was the middle of July, and he's an older man and asked us to come help him stack hay in his barn.
And it was, you know, we're stacking it in the barn, you know, so it's just like you're inside the barn.
It's just hot.
It could have been 110 degrees in there, you know, and we're talking hundreds of bales of hay, and it was just all we could do.
Of course, we're hungover.
We're, you know, in college, we're stacking hay, and I was like, I think this is my last hay hauling job right now.
My granddad was always a real hard worker, and even when I was 12 and 13, you know, in the summers, I spent a lot of time living with him, and he always had a job lined up for me.
You know, it's like, hey, you're going to go over here and we're going to mow so and so's lawn this morning, or we're going to go over here and we're going to send you out to Ken's and you're going to build some fence this weekend.
And I always enjoyed it, though.
I enjoyed those guys I was around, and, you know, I'd work all day, and then we'd sit around and they'd drink beer in the afternoon and tell me stories.
You know, and even now, like on my own place, you know, it's like I don't want to be building somebody else's fence, but I'm glad I know how to build my own, right?
Or things like that, and have those skills.
I still love working around the house and doing little projects and things like that.
I meet a lot of younger guys and kids that sometimes I, I guess, I have an expectation that they know how to do that kind of stuff, you know?
Right, they want to come over to the house and help with some projects and stuff.
And I'm like, oh, yeah, cool, we'll just, you know, I already dug those holes and set up a string line.
We'll set these posts and they're like, okay.
And then after about a half hour, I look over, I'm there just kind of looking at the ground.
Well, there's something about that kind of work, like putting in fences and all the stuff that you see the cowboys doing on Yellowstone and then hanging out together afterwards.
That's so like viscerally appealing to people.
There's something about watching that life.
Like, it's you would say it's like a simple, difficult life, maybe.
I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, it's like it's so appealing.
Like, so many people wanted to be cowboys after they watched your show.
Kids come, it's just like, Oh, it's like, Yeah, oh man, you know, yeah, yeah, it's there, you know.
And it's just like, I realized that having kids is just like, Oh man, it wakes something up within you that's always been there, right?
You know, that you were born to have, you know, that survival instinct and all of those things.
And I still, that's what I still love about it.
Like, I even at home, it'd be.
Being on the road and being in big cities all the time, and you're just surrounded with information and screens, man.
As soon as I can get home or get outside or get into nature, it just wakes that stuff back up in me, and I feel like it puts that spark back in my eye, you know?
It's like 50,000 bucks for a trail horse, which is cool.
I hope people are enjoying that and getting something out of it.
I'm not running a bunch of cows these days, but I keep a few horses around, and especially for the kids.
Whether they want anything to do with them or not, we enjoy so much in the afternoons.
Go up and feed them some carrots or brushing their tails and just being around that energy.
My youngest little boy, he's just got.
He's got some kind of mojo with animals, you know.
And I've got this old mule, and her name's Honey, and she's got these big ears, and she's massive, you know.
And I remember when he was like three or four, I'd be looking around for him in the backyard, and I'd look out in the pasture, and he'd be out there with that mule, and she'd have her head down, and he's just out there petting her ears, you know.
And just like his connection with those animals.
And then, you know, getting kids up to the house or from the city that aren't around those animals, their first time around horses or maybe even dogs and stuff like that.
And you can see their.
They're so anxious, or you know, not maybe so scared, but it's just nervous.
You know, it's just big animals and stuff.
And within like 20 minutes of just sitting them on their back or petting them, and then you see them relax and you see that energy kind of slow down.
Yeah, that's another relationship that's like primal the relationship between people and horses.
They do that with addicts, they do equine therapy where they just have like people that have like heavy anxiety and depression, they have them hang out with horses.
It was kind of way out there, southwestern Montana.
And a lot of folks that were working on the show would go back to Missoula in the cities.
But I was like, man, I want to go.
Get as far away out there as I can.
And so I kind of went down this West Fork area that's on the right on the edge of the most massive wilderness areas out there that goes into Idaho.
And the road I was on, you know, was paved dirt, then it dead ended, and it turned into a dirt road.
And then I got this cabin that was just way back up, and there was no Wi Fi, no nothing, you know, and I just disappeared out there and ended up meeting some folks.
And Remy was just right down the road going towards Sula.
And so I got the chance to just go over there and hang out with him and go stomp around the mountains with him.
Just, you know, like you're talking about going to Alaska, you know, I love going into those places, but like you want somebody like that with you when you go.
He'd set up the key, carry tripods with him and shit, and set it up and make sure the camera's on the animal before he would shoot it, and then film himself.
Film himself moving up to there, set up different cameras that could show him executing the shot.
There are thousands of them everywhere, and you're trying to sneak up on a group of ten, and then you don't even realize there's like a hundred right here laying down that you didn't even see, and then they get up and spook the rest and stamble.
Well, just take off your boots before you come inside.
That's all it is.
But yeah, it's that weird red clay, and it all used to be part of the Dole pineapple plantation.
So when you're around there, one of the things you notice is there's layers of dirt, but then there's almost a plastic bag underneath it, like a hefty bag.
Yeah, it's also you get in the mountains and like those old World War II turrets and stuff that are up there.
Did you come across any of that?
I mean, it's just like, first of all, like hunting axis deer in Lanai, and like you get up on the top and you're surrounded by the ocean.
I mean, what a trip, you know.
I know, seeing that, and then.
Coming across all those old relics and just all the history there, it's just something to take into.
And uh, we are laughing because obviously they're trying to like control the population of the axis deer there.
And I think somebody mentioned, like, man, just get a couple of bangle tigers out here, exactly that'll thin out the population, it's thin out the population of people, too.
The thing about them is that they did evolve around tigers, that's why they're so fast, like, they'll jump a string faster than any animal I've ever seen in my life.
I have a video of me.
Shooting at an access deer at 80 yards, and it's we have a slow mo of the arrow.
So, as the arrow's coming, it's a perfect shot within 10 yards of him.
He hears it and he's gone.
It's the craziest thing.
Like, you look at it, you're like, How the fuck did he move that fast?
This thing's going at least from the actual, like, leaving the bow, it's going 275 feet per second.
And then they have snipers that are after them at night because, you know, they use it for meat for the restaurants and meat for people, and they just have to control the population.
Yeah, somebody tried to reintroduce them or introduce, I should say, to the Big Island, and they're like, no, no, Remember them being like how they are now.
They don't stop.
They have three or four litters a year, and each litter has, I think, they can have as many as six piglets.
As of early 2026, California officials have approved a controversial plan to fully eradicate the non native mule deer population on Santa Catalina Island.
To restore the ecosystem, around 2,000 deer introduced in the 1930s for hunting will be removed by ground based hunters to protect native biodiversity.
Come on.
That sounds crazy.
How about just let people hunt them?
What's wrong with you?
So the issue is Catalina Island Conservancy considers the mule deer an invasive species that disrupts the ecosystem as they consume native plants and seedlings while spreading fire prone invasive grasses.
I think I was going up to San Francisco to play a gig, and maybe they're the Thule elk.
I'm not sure what they were, but I was along the coast there, and I looked over in a field, and there was like 30 head of them just laying down over there.
I'm like, oh man, I didn't even know there were elk down here.
I had a lady on who was a wolf biologist, and she was talking about, like, the, you know, they'd collar some of these wolves and they would track them.
Biologist told newspapers that she could encounter a mate in the nearby region, such as Tatchby Mountains, potentially forming a new pack or continue to roam.
What was that picture you just had of the elk?
Yeah, that's that golf course.
Look at that giant fucking elk chilling on the golf course, clashing.
The wolf thing is interesting because they just brought them back to Aspen and they did a really stupid thing.
They brought them into an area where it has a lot of livestock and they brought them in from a place in Oregon where these wolves had all been captured because they were killing agriculture.
So, what did they do?
They captured them and they Dropped them off in Colorado where they started killing cows.
They just do it.
Well, it's on people's, my friend's ranch.
One of them, they dropped three wolves off on my friend's ranch.
And these are folks that, you know, have been like we said, surviving on this land for generations and dealing with that and, you know, have a history with managing that stuff.
You know, it'd probably be the folks I'd want to ask how to handle it, you know?
Honestly, that would probably do something, but really what you should do is hire someone to recapture them and don't drop them off there.
Don't drop them off in fucking Aspen, you idiot.
Because they're going to eat people's poodles too.
They don't give a shit.
If they run out of cows, if somehow or another the rancher scare them away from the cows and they make it into the town of Aspen, you don't think they're going to eat your golden retriever?
And then the other day, a friend of mine was taking the trash out and it was like around lunchtime and it jumped over the fence into the driveway and had a dead rabbit in its mouth just looking at her, you know.
And she's like, holy shit.
They're there, you know.
So every time I'm even walking around by myself or with the dogs, you're just like, man, this sucker just be in a tree looking at me right now.
When I first started going out there, too, the coyotes, you know, and even around like in Hollywood and stuff, you know, I was like, man, I swear I just saw it.
Coyote running down the street with a pair of sunglasses on and a gold chain, eating better than any of us.
I'm always watching around for stuff and with my arc kiddos or just people around the neighborhood and stuff.
You got to remind yourself, you know, they're there and they're not scared of you.
You know, they're not afraid.
I remember one of the first times I went up to Ojai just north of LA there, you know, and I just wanted to go up there and go hike around and check out the area and those, an archery shop up there.
And I had this old guy, he kind of looked like Charlie Daniels, just big overalls, big old beard, you know, and I walked in there and just to check out the shop and also just, Ask him about, you know, some areas to go stomp around in.
And I had an Australian Shepherd dog at the time.
And I just asked him where, you know, good places to go stomp around.
He said, Yeah, you know, you go up there.
He goes, But I wouldn't take your dog with you.
I was like, Really?
Why?
He's like, Man, those lions are a real deal up here, you know?
He's like, You won't see them, you know, until they're on you, you know?
And I just, you know, I knew they're lions and stuff like that.
But hearing it from that guy, you know, maybe he's trying to scare me a little bit, but, you know, there's, It's a real deal.
I've been evacuated out of there several times over the years, but I've got horses up there now and stuff like that.
And luckily, I had like a, I always keep a big truck and a trailer just in case.
I've got some friends down in Burbank that have some stables, you know, that I'll have like as a backup plan.
But this was just a different deal.
As the crow flies, I could see the smoke from the Palisades, you know, it's like a mile away, you know.
And we were actually working in our arena there and smoke came up.
And I was like, shoot, let's just go.
Every time I see the smoke, like, I don't wait.
I'm just like, we'll be the first ones out and beat the mad rush of everybody that's going to decide to try to stay.
And loaded up the trailer and the truck and the camper and the dogs and all that stuff.
And I was like, let's go.
And, uh, My wife and I went down to Burbank, and I remember we were driving through the night, and the wind was just howling like I've never seen before.
And power lines are snapping, and it's just like trees are coming down, and it just felt like the end of the world, you know.
And we get to Burbank, and we pull back in these stables, and there's a kind of a big cinder block wall.
And I just got as close to that as I could because it was blocking the wind, you know, from hitting us.
And the next morning, I woke up, and I was just, my Throat was sore and hurting.
I could hardly breathe.
And I opened the camper door, and the Altadena fire had started, and it was right there.
And so it was just a mountain of black smoke coming over the top of us there.
And so I was like, let's go, let's get out of here, let's head north.
And I had some friends in Moore Park, you know, up in that area going towards Ventura that had horses trying to find some places to go with some horses.
And they're like, yeah, come on up here.
So we went up there, stayed there a night, and then they cut all the power off up in that area because the winds were snapping power lines and they were worried about fires.
And, you know, After doing that a few nights, and I was like, let's just head east and go to Texas.
There's always so many friends you can like show up with five horses and a bunch of dogs, you know, like, hey, we're going to stay for a while, you know.
You can watch it on the news and you kind of get a feeling of it.
But when you're there and you're driving down the 101 and you look at the side of the highway and you see like these hills in the distance that are just covered in fire hundreds of yards of fields of fire just making their way over the top of this hill and burning houses.
From our house, it's kind of a Little mountain that comes up on the back, and I hiked up there and was watching it.
You could see the smoke, and then you could like start seeing little flickers of the flames.
And then it was just like somebody dumped gasoline on this thing.
I mean, the flames shot up hundreds of feet into the air.
And uh, my wife was on the balcony, you know, the house, and I'm kind of up on this little mountain.
I'm looking over, looking in her eyes.
I'm like, start packing up.
I'll go hook up the horse trailer, I'll be upset.
Let's load up and just, and you know, the wind was blowing.
Like offshore, then, you know, so the fire is like on the coast, you know, and just depending on where that, how that wind is blowing, you know, at the beginning it was blowing offshore, and then within a half an hour it just shot up the coastline and just ripped up through Malibu and burned all that coastline.
Like that's the stuff that you always thought was the safest, right?
You know, yeah.
And then the next day the wind shifts coming back on shore and it blows it back towards Burbank, you know, going back up like the Forth up that way, and then the winds are shifting again and then coming back across, you know.
So, I was amazed at the through some of the fires that I've been through, seeing the firefighters up there.
Those guys are incredible, man.
Those helicopter pilots, uh, the airplane pilots, seeing those tankers fly through there.
I mean, it's just incredible what those guys can do.
I mean, if it hadn't, I mean, they saved that whole canyon, yeah, of Topanga at least.
You know, it's like, man, there's so much brush in there that probably needs to burn, it's been accumulating over years, you know, and um.
Cutting those fire breaks and seeing them drop the retardant on the ridge lines and stuff, and watching the wind, it's just like, man, hats off to those guys.
And we just happened to be sitting next to each other and we were talking about it and just, you know, learning from him, you know, about, you know, the thermals that come up from underneath and trying to hold those helicopters in, you know, in formation and all of that stuff and how heavy they are when they're full.
And then as soon as you release all that water, whatever's in them, you know, all of a sudden that the power that they got, you know, throttle's full throttle, you know, when they're loaded down and then they, Drop all that water and then, you know, trying to get back a hold of it.
And then you got 90 mile an hour winds blowing, and, you know, and I could see them from the house.
You know, there'd be like two or three helicopters that would come in, start dropping water, and then they would move out, and then the tank, the planes would come in, and then helicopters back in.
Then you had the guys on the ground, you know, trying to contain it as well.
Just the coordinated effort between them, you know.
The materials that they're made out of asbestos or lead.
I mean, the stuff in the air that was, even if you were several miles away from the actual fires, the wind and blowing all the ashes and the smoke and all that stuff over.
I remember going back up in there, you know, weeks and just trying to get stuff out of the house or whatever when they'd let us back up.
And you could still.
It would just make your throat hurt, you know, breathing that air and stuff.
I would just worry about even breathing the air that has the dust of all that shit in it.
Like, I probably wouldn't want to live there anymore.
If I was in a place where all the houses burnt to the ground and I knew there was toxic shit in the ground, I'd be like, Hey, let's get the fuck out of here and sell our house to China.
You know, I was talking to some friends of mine out the other day that have grown up there, lived out there their whole lives, and you know, going over the Channel Islands, you know, they got those oil platforms out there in the water, and there's been oil spills obviously throughout there through history.
And, but also, like when you're surfing and stuff like that, there's oil that's been on top of the ground.
It's just like so surface level, it's been there for millions of years, you know.
And so, I don't know, you know, it's like I'm sure all the toxic stuff that, Happens, how long does it take for it to dilute?
You know, there's not much rain or the wind or like what, you know?
I'm not an expert on it, but I feel like Mother Nature takes pretty good care of herself.
I have a buddy that has a house out there and he lost his house and burnt down and I asked him about it and he said, I think what they're going to do is take all the dirt out of their backyard and then replace the dirt.
And I'm like, okay.
I don't know if that's enough.
Because what about his dirt?
What about your neighbor's dirt?
What about all the toxic shit that's in his dirt that's going to get down into your ground as soon as it rains?
It seems like it's so far of a mess that even the folks that do have answers that do want to fix stuff, it just kind of becomes impossible for.
For any solution, you know, it's like all the red tape and all the hoops and things and all the permits or whatever.
Like, you can't even, you know, the road's blocked.
Okay, well, before we could even get somebody out here with a tractor to move the rocks, you got to call 10 other people to get it approved and then the process and then it's that.
And it's like, that's the part I'm just like, man, I wish I could just call Frank down the street with his bulldozer.
We'll just go, we'll just go move this right now, you know?
They got ruined with progressive politics and bureaucracy that just ramped up all the control they have over people to the point where you can't even buy flavored Zins.
They banned blackjack.
You can't have blackjack anymore.
They just stopped blackjacking the casinos, they stopped flavored Zins.
They just regulated into oblivion.
There are all these people that want to be the mommy of the world.
Same kind of thing, like you know, Marfa and out in that area.
You know, I grew up all out there going to junior rodeos and all kinds of stuff, and it was just ranches, you know, and you know, local diners and stuff like that, and you know.
I hear people going out there and buying houses and all that stuff.
Then they go out there for like a week and they realize that the only thing open at night is the Dairy Queen.
I think about my family and I've got stories of them settling in New Mexico and coming out on a covered wagon with maybe a steer and a pig.
And then, like, yeah, here's you.
A bunch of acres, and you got to prove it up, you know, and dig a hole in the ground is what they're living in a dugout, you know, and dig a hole in the ground that's where you're living.
And you try to build a ranch out of it.
I always laugh.
I was talking to family or my grandparents, I was like, Why did y'all stop here?
You just like you were so beat down, you're like, Oh, this is the driest, flattest place, you know, but we're here, the most roughest, you know.
I was like, It's only maybe another thousand miles out to California, or just keep going.
They're like, Nope, this is it, we're done, you know.
Yeah, even just like Missouri, Texas, and then out to through, even like just going through West Texas to get to, you know, Southeast New Mexico and all that.
And you're, you know, that's just rough country.
And people have always been tough out there to survive out there.
I know my granddad was a pretty tough old guy and as real a cowboy as you'd ever want to know or meet, but he wasn't really one to ever brag or fantasize or romanticize about the cowboy stuff because it wasn't romantic.
Then you know it was survival and it was rough and it was work and you know had no running water.
I remember him having a conversation with this guy, and he was like some like a tech guy, you know, invented all this website shit or whatever.
And he was asking my granddad, He said, 'You know, what's the most important invention of your lifetime?' And I think he was expecting my granddad to say, 'The computer or the internet.' And my granddad said, 'Refrigeration.' Was the most important invented, you know?
Unless you knew a place that was an ice house, you know, that would get a giant chunk of ice and you could have an ice box and stick it in there and cool things.
Yeah, I think his book's called American Buffalo, but it's really good.
First hunting regulations appeared in colonial laws in the 1600s, mainly as seasonal closed seasons for certain game like deer.
In terms of nationwide U.S. law, the first major federal game protection statute was the Lacey Act of 1900, which targeted commercial and market hunting and interstate trade in illegally taken wildlife.
And we wiped them out, and there was deer in every state.
But now there's more deer than there ever has been before, which is interesting.
Congress passed the Lacey Act.
When modern regulations start, so the 1900s, most states had game and fish commissions, hunting seasons, bag limits, and license requirements, all reinforced by federal laws like the Lacey Act and later migratory bird protections.
Well, it's amazing that they did that.
We have an amazing system, too.
Like the fact that the United States has so much public land, you know, there's so many different places where people can go and they can hike.
They can white water wrap, they can fish, they can hunt, they can camp.
I mean, we're unlike any country when it comes to that.
It's like the amount of land that we have that's available to Americans, that every, it's public for everybody, is fucking incredible.
Being up in Montana, New Mexico's like that too, and California, but up in Montana, what I love, you know, staying in that wilderness area, like that little cabin that I stayed in, you know, probably didn't have much land with the cabin, but man, there's thousands and thousands of acres of.
Wilderness public land with dirt roads everywhere.
And man, I would, you know, on those days off that I had, I would just drive back in there for miles, man, and just see the most beautiful country, you know.
And I'd haul my horse back in the way that the trail heads and just go explore stuff, you know.
And you'd go over one ridge into the next, and there's a waterfall, and there's another drainage.
And it's just like, you know, and this is the wilderness area too.
This isn't even a national park.
You know, I was like, man, this is beautiful country as I've, I've, Ever seen?
I mean, to, Take care and provide for these animals to provide food for your family, you know, and the wildlife that's around it, you know, it's like, and to take care of the land and the dirt and the water and the grasses and all of that stuff has to be supporting each other to make it all work, you know.
And at the end of the day, I just feel like we've just lost touch with that, you know.
It's urban environments, it's unnatural environments that have given people this delusional idea of what our relationship is with nature.
And, you know, people just think food comes from.
Restaurant, yeah, and you know, the ground is for streets, and you drive sidewalks, yeah, just pave it all.
It's all just this delusional perspective that comes from that sort of urban existence.
And I just think that's why people that live in the country and live in you know environments where you're like Alaska, where you're confronted by nature, they're like more interesting people, they're more robust, they're cooler.
Were you saying out there earlier that you rode bulls?
Since I was a kid at the junior rodeos, there was always a dance afterward and a band playing, you know.
And it was a very much a family community deal, you know.
Like, you go to these towns and there was the junior rodeo going on and then the dance, the street dance and food and music and, you know, growing up listening to bands play, especially in Texas.
You know, you got all the guys like Gary P. Nunn.
I remember he always played the dance halls, and you get Robert O'Keefe and some of the, you know, hearing those bands.
And I moved to Laredo, Texas when I was like 16 or 17, with my dad and my mother had bought me a guitar and didn't know how to play it much.
And I walked into this place my dad was living at, and he was playing dominoes with these guys.
And this guy saw my guitar and he's like, Yeah, you know how to play that thing?
I said, No.
And he said, Well, let me see it.
And he picked it up and he played this.
Killer, like mariachi song called La Malagagagna, and I was just fascinated with it.
I was just like, Wow, I can't believe he made that guitar sound like that!
You know, I've been dragging that thing around for a couple years, I didn't even know how to tune it up.
And then he's like, You want to learn how to play this guitar?
I said, Yeah, he said, Let me show you this song.
He taught me the Malagagagagagna, it had a couple little parts, you know, a finger picking part, a strumming part, and it really kind of gave me that foundation, you know, just kind of those few little tools.
And then I went up to Stephenville to ride bulls at Tarleton after that, and uh.
A couple other friends that I'd met there that rodeoed could play the guitar a little bit, and they had bands that played every weekend in the town.
There's a little bar there called City Limits where all these bands would come play, like Jason Bolin and the Cross Canadian Rag Week guys, and Pat Green and Robert O'Keefe, like all the Texas guys would come play, you know.
So I was like, I went from being on the border to kind of just mostly like the Carillos and Tejano bands that I would see, which was really cool.
But when I got up there, I was like, oh man, there's all these like cool kind of songs, you know, guys writing the original music and songs and playing in bands.
We'd go watch them all the time.
And as I was still rodeoing, the only song I knew was that Malagaina tune.
So I was like, I got to come up with some new stuff.
This is all I know how to play.
So I went and got a book of chords to teach myself some new chords on the guitar.
And I just learned one or two at a time and I'd start making up songs about our adventures on the weekends.
A lot of it was just sitting in the back of the truck and being in places where you didn't have radio signal or nothing to really listen to.
You're tired of listening to the same old stuff.
And I'd make up songs and then.
Whatever town we would get to, my buddies be like, Man, play that song, and you were singing in the back seat, you know.
And so that's how the whole songwriting thing started.
And then, um, I ended up getting a job working for a guy named Mac Altizer, he had a rodeo company called Bag Company Rodeo in Del Rio.
And I'd ridden bulls at some of his rodeos and knew him, my uncle had known him, you know, over the years, and so I was kind of familiar with that whole thing.
And uh, started working for him on the ranch and helping with some of the rodeo stuff and still riding bulls.
And he found out that I could play the guitar.
And sing a few songs.
And he always had a party at the rodeo.
He was kind of notorious and famous for having like just awesome parties.
And he's like, Man, all right, Bingham, get your guitar.
You're going to play like the after party, you know, and pull the flatbed trailer up there for the hospitality tent for all the contestants after the rodeo.
And those are like the first, he really encouraged me to like start playing for people and doing that.
And then it would just spill over into the bars afterwards after the rodeo.
And everybody would end up going to the bar.
And everybody was like, Bingham, bring your guitar with you.
And I started getting gigs in the bars.
The bars would ask me if I wanted to come back and play.
And just after, like, I feel like a few years of that, it was just like, you know, I was kind of a weekend warrior riding bulls.
I was definitely not making a living doing it.
I always had to have a day job during the week, you know, either working on the ranch or doing something.
And I started getting to where I could go to these bars and make like a hundred bucks in tips, you know, within a couple of hours and get free beer and free food.
And I was like, man, this is almost as much as I made all day digging holes with the shovel.
It didn't take me long to figure out that that was pretty cool.
Yeah, and I didn't have high expectations, you know, but I just like, and I was talking about kind of community in this Austin area and in Texas in general.
It's just like, man, people were so supportive then.
I'm just like, if you had a song to play it, people love live music.
They're like, yeah, get up and play, you know, like Mac with the rodeo company and all the guys that worked there Dave Jennings and Casey and Smurt.
There's a whole crew that.
The bad company crew from those days, and they always had kind of the bad company house band, too, where everybody would get up and try to play a song.
It's just like, man, we don't care if it's any good or not, just get up there and play.
We're all in it together.
And there were so many like places that were like that.
I don't think if I was in that environment, I probably would have never pursued it.
You know, I just had so many people, you know, supporting you and encouraging you to try it.
And it took me a long time, you know, to work stuff out and learn because I didn't have any really formal music.
Musical background or lessons or training.
I'd have really just learned it on the road and playing in bars and from other musicians.
Well, they got, you know, the guy taught me the La Malagagagna there, but then after that it was just, you know, anybody else who had a guitar and might know a song, you know, I'm like, oh, what cool, how do you play that chord?
You know, like, oh, you play it like this, you know?
I mean, I think my, you know, I was 22 or something like that in Stephenville, you know, Ryan Bulls, starting to play songs, trying to play gigs.
After, you know, ended up moving down here to New Bromfields and the Austin area playing music for a while and then ended up going out to Los Angeles and playing and then hit the road with a band for, I think I had four or five albums or so.
You know, out, you know, and been touring for five or six years.
I think how old was I like when Yellowstone started, like 36, 37.
So, yeah, I'd been playing, doing the music stuff for a long time.
I was just like, Jeff Bridges plays a musician in the show, and we're like the backup band at the bowling alley for one of the scenes, which was really cool.
And then, written some songs for some other films and some TV shows since then.
I met a guy named John Linson out in Los Angeles, a producer, and him and his dad, Art Linson, they did like Sons of Anarchy, a bunch of shows, and a bunch of great movies.
He introduced me to Taylor, and Taylor was, I think it was that movie Wind River, his first movie.
I'd met Taylor and just kind of talked about music and stuff, and he wanted me to write a song for Wind River.
And I'd given it a shot a couple times, never really had anything that fit for what he wanted, but he ended up using a song that I'd already written.
And we just kind of kept in touch, and then when the Yellowstone thing came up, he got in touch again about writing some songs for the show.
And then he learned that I used to do all the rodeo stuff, I think, and grew up ranching, and he's like, well, shoot, you can.
Do a lot of this stuff.
I got to find a way to get you in the show, you know.
And it literally went from the conversation, it was like, Well, I don't know what I'm going to do with you, but I'll find something to do with you, you know.
And he literally said, He's like, You know, if you do good, I'll, you know, you guys, if you suck, I'll kill you off.
And I got to give a lot of credit to the actors that are on the show, too, you know, those folks that have really studied it and paid their dues learning that craft, you know, they.
Really create the environment, you know, especially for me not knowing much about it, you know, and just kind of being a part of the scene.
I think some of it comes from the riding bulls, you know, you learn how to channel that anxiety or fear into just like, oh, okay, it's go time, let's just like, dude, pull it together and channel that, you know.
Man, I, you know, that's one thing my uncle taught me when I was young.
You know, he was really quick to be like, Man, it doesn't matter how strong you are, you know, it's not about it, it's all mental, it's all in your mind.
And it's all, it's not, I think I can, it's, I know I can and I will.
You know, and he goes, If you don't believe that every time you go put your rope on one of those, on their backs, he's like, It ain't gonna happen.
Yeah, you know, and the shock was just, I didn't feel anything.
Like, I was just like in shock, and I was like, oh man, you know, I remember like my girlfriend was there from high school and my buddy, and we drove to the little, you know, they're like, you want to call an ambulance?
I was like, nah, I don't have health insurance.
I'm calling an ambulance, you know, and got my buddy's car, and we drove over to the emergency room in Weatherford, and I go in, and the nurse, she's just like, oh man, she's like, we can't do anything for you here.
You're going to have to go to like Dallas to like trauma, you know, you have to get like an oral surgeon to put you back together.
And, uh, She goes, You want me to, you know, get you an ambulance there?
And I was like, No, I think we can make it, you know.
And she's like, She gave me some pain pills.
She goes, Don't take these now.
She goes, Hold on to these.
And then when you get to Dallas, then take them because you're probably going to have to wait, you know, before they can, because it'll be three or four in the morning before they can get somebody in there to see us.
And sure enough, we got to Dallas and I'm just sitting there in the weight room and I had a rag and I was just holding my mouth together.
And the shock wore off, man.
And then it's, you know, I was starting to feel it.
Took those pain meds, and then the doctor came in and held me back and gave me a big shot in the roof of my mouth, tried to numb everything.
And just, I think it took them longer to clean it all up, you know, pull all the hair and dirt out of there and sew me up.
And the tea, oh, it was an ordeal, you know, for sure.
For months after that, you know, getting the dental work done, all that crap.
Even the travel part, you know, like, you know, in the early days of playing, when I really decided I was going to try to make a run and play, you know, and it was like, oh, what?
We got to get in the van and go drive around and play in bars, you know?
And I was like, we've been doing that rodeoing for years, you know, where you sleep in the back of the truck or whatever, and it was fun for us.
I look at it all the time, you know, just from an outside perspective, I guess, and just like, wow, how in the world did all this come together?
And just a lot of luck and perseverance or whatever.
And I.
I wouldn't say I haven't worked hard at it.
I feel like I have and all that, but there's a lot of luck out there and a lot of good people, too.
A lot of good people helped me out along the way and gave me gas money and gave me a place to sleep or a place to eat and helped us get other gigs.
I remember going from one town to the next and not having gas money to get to the next and having no plan other than, let's just head west or head east.
And you'd go play at a bar, and sure enough, there'd be somebody there that was like, oh man, y'all should come back to my house.
Bonfire and play some songs, and he's like, Oh, my brother's got a bar in Phoenix.
And he's like, Call them on your way out.
And we'd go there, and we'd always like to chop firewood or wash dishes or wood mow your lawn or wash your car on the way to get gas money and keep on going.
I think luck is a factor, but it's only a factor if you've already had all those other experiences.
Like, think about it.
If you hadn't ridden bulls, you hadn't gone through all the ranching, all the hard labor, all the different things, then, like, you probably wouldn't have capitalized on that luck the same way.
I rode bulls and you know, it's my very much my identity, you know.
No cowboy stuff wasn't really cool then, you know.
I like feel like in the early 2000s and all of that, you know, and there wasn't a lot of big, there wasn't a big Americana scene or you know, any of that kind of stuff, you know.
And definitely going to New York or going to Los Angeles and touring around, I would be the only one wearing a cowboy hat, you know.
I remember, I think the first time, one time I was in LA, we were out on the Santa Monica Pier.
And there was a guy that had like the one man band thing, you know, out there.
And there's all these tourists on the pier.
And I'm just like out there checking out the scenery and just minding my own business.
And this guy gets on the microphone and he just points over at me and goes, Oh, broke that mountain.
And everybody on the pier turned around and looked at me.
And they're just pointing at me and laughing at me.
And I'm just like, Ah, okay, you know.
So I was like, That was the association with the cowboy had at the time.
But there's so many great musicians out there now, and also have lived like different but very, like Charlie Crockett.
What a fascinating dude that guy is.
Like just kind of performing on the streets and, you know, just being kind of a vagabond, traveling around, and then finally catches, and people are like, damn, this music is fucking great, man.
Yeah, like wearing it on their sleeves, you know, and having the confidence to, I think people have always been.
I think there has been plenty of folks out there, you know, writing from the heart and so to speak, and all that, and, you know, having a certain integrity to the things that they're saying and wanting, you know.
The truth in their speaking into their songs and things like that.
And now there's just a lot more of a platform to support them, you know, and people are like, oh, wow, there's a bunch of this stuff out there, you know.
There's also an appreciation for it because I think we're all fearful that people like you won't exist in the future.
Because it seems like a guy like you, you know, bull riding, living on a ranch, like singing songs in bars, like that almost is like a thing of the past.
Like when we meet a guy like you in real life, you're like, oh, keep him around.
You know, like you want to make sure that people like you still exist.
It's a very exciting thing for people to have a person who's lived an authentically interesting life and authentically out of the box life.
It's not a normal life.
Like, you're if you meet a million people, the odds of you meeting one guy who used to bull ride and then started singing in bars with his friends and was happy living on the road, now all of a sudden he's on a fucking.
It's pretty, it's strange because sometimes I, you know, I meet people and I, you know, I'm like, oh yeah, I grew up just like you, you know, and then I realize, like, I don't think I did.
And when I was little, I mean, even when I was like 14 or 15, you know, guys were starting to breed the bulls for like the PBR.
Like they full on started these like breeding programs.
You know, used to, you could go to a practice pen and, you know, it'd be an old farmer that had two or three old bulls that you could get on and practice and they'd just jump around and just, you know, nothing that was really going to hurt you bad, you know.
And then they started breeding these young bulls.
Man, you'd go to the practice pen, there'd be 10 or 15 of these like yearlings that bucked and they needed somebody to get on them.
You know, like test pilot.
And I was the test pilot.
There was a guy named Bradley Raspberry, I believe, kind of out in Brownwood.
I remember going to his house and I could ride.
I was pretty sticky when I was younger.
I could ride a lot better when I was younger than I was when I got older, you know, for some reason.
I just had that no fear or whatever that was.
And I'd get on 10 or 15 a day.
And just, they just kept running them in there, man.
They'd be trying to flip over in the chute and just, you know, they're young green bulls that were half wild and, And they're just trying to figure out which ones bucked and which ones didn't.
And they would, you know, they'd get rid of the ones that didn't buck and keep the ones that did.
And man, I'd just be like, the wilder they got in the shoot, like, the more aggressive I got.
Like, I just was like, oh, okay, that's what we're going to do.
You know, wild bulls, when you say wild, like the ones that are out there in the wild, they're some of the most dangerous animals that you could ever encounter.
When they're acting like they call them scrub bulls.
Like my buddy Adam, he lives in Australia or he's moving to America.
But when he lived in Australia, he said that they would encounter these scrub bulls, which is like wild domestic bulls that got out and started breeding.
And then many generations later, they're now completely wild.
I knew these three guys from Australia that, or several Australian guys that came over and lived in Stephenville.
A lot of these cowboys have moved to Stephenville because it was so central and it was kind of.
Cowboy capital there, and his name was Lance Kelly.
He had some brothers, and they were from up there in North Queensland somewhere.
One summer, he went back to work, and then when he came back, he wanted to tell me about where he was from all the time.
You know, I was young and curious, I was always fascinated.
It was like, Wow, you're from Australia!
You know, I've only seen movies, you know, like the, what's it, the, oh gosh, Crocodile Dundee?
No, man from Snowy River, not which was, anyway.
But I was fascinated with Australia and him and his brothers.
And so he went home and he had videotaped a VHS, you know, he didn't have phones back then, but it was like the old cam VHS tape recorder.
And he'd videotaped it around his body while he was walking around working on the ranch.
And he'd have his four wheeler in there.
Chasing these wild cattle and rounding them up, him and his brother, brothers.
And he would just like chase them on a four wheeler as long as, you know, keep them running until they got so tired they couldn't go anymore.
And then he had this piece of pipe on there, he could run up behind them and kind of knock them down.
And then he'd jump off and tie their legs together.
And they would catch a bunch of them like that.
And then his brother would come by, you know, later with a truck and a winch and winch them up into the trailer.
And they would catch all these wild cows like that.
And to be able to see that footage and stuff and have him tell me how they were doing it and show them, and I was like, oh, that's a Coolest thing in the world.
I get a feeling like, you know, I think a lot of folks have this idea that songwriters are where, you know, especially, you know, have a bunch of sad songs or whatever to go to that deep place and you live through stuff that you write about.
But, man, I find in comics, man, I feel like.
There's some of the heaviest stuff in the world that those folks have experienced to be able to, you know, come up and tell these kinds of jokes and stories and the educational part of it with it.
You know, it's so much, I don't know, for me, it seems like so much more than just a joke.
Yeah, you know, yeah, there's hope in humor, yeah, for sure.
But there's hope in music, too.
Yeah, you know, I don't have any musical talent at all, but I always think of music as almost like a drug because music.
When a good song hits, you're like, fuck.
If you're in the car and a good tune comes on, especially back when I used to listen to the radio, you know, and you didn't expect what was coming on, and all of a sudden.
It's always been real therapeutic for me at the very beginning.
Like I said, I didn't have high expectations, but I knew when I kind of wrote some of the first songs that I wrote and I got some of that stuff off my chest, it changed me, you know?
I mean, I always think, like, you know, gosh, it's changed so much since I started out, you know?
I mean, we didn't even have, like, you know, if you wanted to learn how to play a song, you kind of had to go listen to the record and just try to figure it out, you know, and rewind it.
Now there's like, oh, here's a guy that'll just show you every note and this and that.
You know, and, um, but, you know, maybe that is like today, you know, these guys, it's, uh, they're learning how to do it at such a quicker rate and, like, they know how to handle the crowds and do all the stuff.
You know, I think that's also why, like, um, I mean, in martial arts and, like, UFC, there's a reason why the guys are so much better today.
And it's because they get to see everything that everybody's ever done and then they practice it and improve upon it and they get it at a year early age.
I was like, man, I really want to get better at the guitar, you know?
And he's like, well, just listen to all the stuff that you really like.
You know, he's like, don't try to play it all note for note.
He's like, just keep listening to it, and like, you'll start eventually finding those places and develop your style.
But it was when I got on the road as well, man, I had access on YouTube to all of my favorite musicians and guitar players, and I just kind of made a point of sitting down and I even found this guy that was just breaking down and giving simple blues guitar lessons for kids.
I was like, man, this is great.
Never done anything like this.
And just like went through, I went back, you know.
Unfortunately, there's a lot of people that don't have good lives and they Do you have a lot of extra time because they're not really investing in their own life?
And I contacted him early on and he said, Hey, can I ask you some advice?
And we talked on the phone.
I said, Yeah, sure.
So I called him up and he was just telling me that he was getting hit up by all these different people that were trying to give him money to sign a contract and this.
And then I go, Hey, hey, hey, don't sign nothing.
I go, you don't need nobody.
You don't need to be locked up in any contracts with nobody.
And he was like, they're all telling me I got to strike while the iron's hot.
I'm like, fuck them.
I go, you got talent, dude.
Talent is the number one thing.
You already have that.
You're going to be fine.
You just keep making songs like that, you can't fucking lose.
But what you don't want to do is be tied with some legal contract to some assholes just sucking you like a vampire.
And they're going to be stuck with you for years, and then you're going to have to go to court to get out of that shit.
Yeah, when you have the opportunity, like you said, man, you're writing good songs, you're doing good stuff, and you have a way to give it to the people.
But that's the thing that I was saying about guys like you that people look at guys like you and it's such a romantic story.
They worry that there's not going to be any more of you.
You know what I mean?
Like this weird digital world and AI and just this strange fucking life that we're all living like now.
That are not, I don't want to say simple because it's not simple, but it's unencumbered by all the bullshit of the world that we think is fake and unfortunate.
Like, when I did come to Austin, like in my, you know, mid 20s, you know, I met guys like Joe Ely and Terry Allen and Guy Clark and, like, these little Steve Earle legendary kind of guys that I looked up to.
And I remember being young then and being like, oh, man, you know, these are the last guys left, you know?
Just keep writing, keep making it, and just be undeniable.
And at the end of the day, if all of that stuff disappears, you can always go sit on the sidewalk and put your tip jar out there and play a song for people who are walking down the street.
And I guarantee you, there's going to be somebody that's going to stop and appreciate it.
You know, that's what's, it's something that's special to you.
I think when I talk about the therapy of songwriting, that's what's, I hold on and protect that ruthlessly.
You know, I'm not just giving that away.
You know, and that's more, that part of it's way more important than selling an album or a concert ticket or going on the road touring and all that, man.
Like, what I get out of music is like when I'm sitting at home in a room all by myself.
And letting that stuff pour out of me, and I'm just singing it to the wall.
I'm glad that you articulate it that way, too, because I think there's young, aspiring songwriters and singers out there that are listening to this right now that are feeling this, and they just can't wait to get to a pad right now and start writing.
Pick up their guitar and start writing.
Because it's like stories like yours, and the way you express it, it inspires people to get.
Excited about it inspires people to really dig in.
You know, I definitely had folks that mentored me like that and you know steered me in the right direction in a lot of ways.
Terry Allen, the guy, definitely.
I'm just like, man, just keep writing, keep you know, and whatever it is, whatever that's making you want to do that in the first place, you know, like that, like hold on to that, you know, and protect it.
And the rest will all be always be around and always come and it'll change, and a good song will.
Survive and find its way.
Just like the guy, you know, that song you just played me, like you said, 200 million people in it just, they'll find its way, you know?