Sorta Amazing

After all, Johnson attributes much of this album's success to his bandmates' ability to flesh out his songs. "They're the most professional band I've ever played with," Johnson says. Take "Sweet Little Bay," for instance, which Johnson named for a childhood vacation spot near Rockport where he used to fish and swim. He wrote it while the band was laying out the album. "The guys had never really heard that before it was recorded," he says. "I played it twice, we decided on a bridge, and we played it. Perfect. That's exactly how I would want that to work. It sounds fresh, and there isn't time to overthink things." He doesn't like belaboring decisions, band conflict, all that blah-blah. It turned out to be one of the album's best tracks, with Balis adding a lovely Byrds tweak with his 12-string. "This is a band that isn't gonna have more than two or three takes," Johnson says. "Here are the songs, they all know them, and if they don't know them, they can wing it, and it'll still sound great."

But with both bands on the verge, will one have to die in order for the other to survive?

"That may be inevitable," Johnson says, "but I don't worry about it that much. If it falls apart, so be it. The last thing I would try to do is keep the band together if it's not desirable. What I'd really like to do with those guys is tour with them."

That's the next step. Their sound is good; their band is tight -- but until Sorta steps outside Big D, no one's gonna know that. So they hired a booking agent, and they'll make their SXSW debut on March 18. Maybe he's being idealistic, but Johnson sees this as his future--trotting the globe with wife and kid in tow, scribbling more songs, better songs. "Music is the best thing that I've ever found in life, aside from my wife," he says. "I don't want to work in a cube, and I don't really look forward to retirement. Golf doesn't sound exciting to me. What I'd really like to do is be 60 years old and play and sing."