14 DECEMBER 18 - 24, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER CLASSIFIED | MUSIC | DISH | CULTURE | UNFAIR PARK | CONTENTS Musical Key Tennessee transplant Justin Hoard is steadily cementing himself as a cornerstone of the city’s nightlife. BY SEAN STROUD W e’re lucky to be living in one of the nation’s mu- sical hotbeds. Besides being a go-to city for any national tour worth mentioning, Dallas has its own vibrant local music scene, and it’s only possible because of key players like Justin Hoard. If you’ve explored Deep Ellum’s nightlife in any capacity, you’ve likely heard Hoard kill it on the drums at one of his sets at a weekly jam or bleeding out of a club as you make your way down Main Street. Hoard’s the kind of drummer who makes you stop in your tracks and squint to try to lock in on what he’s laying down. As an open mic backliner, he chatters along and sprinkles in plenty of color with- out overtaking the main performer. When he’s on stage with Dallas’ premier alt-rock band, Curl, Hoard is explosive, but tasteful. Even in his most intense moments, fills are controlled and directed; every hit works to- ward setting up the next section or staging a standout moment for the guitar or bass. Originally from Tennessee, Hoard was convinced to come to Dallas by Jake Quillin, another well-known local musician who grew up around the same area. Quillin moved down a few years earlier, then reached out to offer Hoard a place to stay in late 2021. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, but he eventually realized that if he didn’t take the leap, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it. Most of his family is back up north, but Hoard grins as he talks about jamming with his great uncle Gene in Garland: “He’s a damn good bass player. He’s 83, but I think he still acts like a teenager. He’s just got that juice in him.” When he’s not behind the drums, Hoard is also a solid guitarist and singer. I caught his set before our interview and was imme- diately drawn in by his candor. His songs are bright and delicately warm, more like a reas- suring smile from a friend than a forced “ev- erything will be alright” from a parent. “Man, I don’t wanna pry on your business / I just hate to sit back and witness / That you’re sad again,” he sings on “Battling,” a gentle, upbeat song that acknowledges and applauds perseverance through everyday struggles. His superb production skills shine on these tracks. The audio comes through washy and distorted, evoking the same feeling as watching one of those “last day of high school” YouTube videos from 2004 — oddly nostalgic and comforting in a way that’s difficult to describe but easy to em- brace. He’s only released a handful of tracks so far, but says there’s more on the way. To Coin a Phrase H is latest single, “Cigarette Friends,” is a candid observation of one of the most common questions exchanged between strangers throughout the city: “You got a cigarette?” The track sparks to life like an old juke- box with a bright, slightly twangy guitar. The drums sound amazing; the nearly over- whelming weight of the cymbals adds to the song’s nostalgic effect and sets up a satisfy- ing contrast to its crisp hi-hat sections. Hoard posted the coined term’s defini- tion in an Instagram post: “Cigarette Friend (N) - A person who engages contact with an- other person for the sheer hope of fixing a nicotine crav- ing.” In true multi-instru- mentalist fashion, Hoard’s played every- thing on the songs he’s re- leased so far, but he’s look- ing to add other musi- cians to the mix going for- ward. There are certainly benefits to be- ing in control of every part and piece, but he says playing with a group of musicians brings out a dif- ferent energy because people just play things that you never thought of. The Tennessee transplant somehow manages to do a little bit of everything with- out spreading himself too thin. He’s also a regular at most of the city’s open mics and produces laid-back beats under his Deep- NThCut moniker. The key to his success and consistency is always saying yes, Hoard says. Opportuni- ties aren’t abundant, so make the most out of every chance that’s given. “If you say no to a gig, someone else is saying yes, and then you’re just left in the dust,” he says. “The bills gotta get paid.” Hoard recently began hosting a weekly open mic at RAYO Bar and Lounge on Tues- day nights. Sign-ups start at 8 p.m., and per- formances begin at 9, following a set by a local spotlight artist. Some past star per- formers include Frankie Leonie, Blair Gowen and Dev Wulf. Though he’s often the loudest one in a room, Hoard describes himself as a wall- flower. He admits that running an event like this is a little out of his comfort zone, but in a healthy way. “It’s an interesting challenge, but I’m starting to get comfortable,” he says. “It’s al- ways in the back of my mind, like, ‘OK, just go out there and try to be yourself,’ which I’ve realized is easier said than done.” He learned a lot about hosting from at- tending Jamie Vahala’s The People’s Jam, a previously long-running open mic where Hoard served as the unofficial house drum- mer. Vahala ran the event for many years with a carefree attitude that made the whole thing look easy, when in reality, managing a bar full of Deep Ellum drinkers was not. “Jamie’s got that super charisma, kind of devil-may-care sort of thing, and I mean that in a good way,” Hoard says. “He’s really comfortable on stage and being the orches- trator of it all.” For those who need an extra incentive to come out and play, performers are rewarded with service industry perks: All food is half off, and certain drinks are discounted. Worst case, you go up and bomb but still get to munch on a Baby Katsu slider and wash away the pain with $2 PBRs. Honestly, no matter where you catch Hoard and what instrument he’s holding, the best thing to do is stick around and see what he does. The show is sure to be worth the wait. He doesn’t have any upcoming shows as of now, but Hoard can be heard every Tuesday at RAYO or sporadically throughout the week at various jams in Dallas. Hoard’s weekly open mic at RAYO Bar and Lounge at 8 p.m. Tuesdays at 841 Exposition Ave. Sean Stroud Multi-instrumentalist Justin Hoard got a taste for Dallas open mics at The People’s Jam. . Music Sean Stroud Justin Hoard puts down his drumsticks and picks up an Epiphone Casino at The People’s Jam.
