Son of a Gun
A devil, a madam & the gunfighter who buried his pistols for his boy.
“He was faster than the devil / she was hotter than the sun…”
True stories. Told straight.
Solo acoustic songwriter from Flower Mound, Texas.
01 / THE STORY
Ian Raymond is a Texas roots singer-songwriter whose life has never followed a particularly conventional path. He built a career in software and technology while spending the rest of his time building things, playing guitar, and writing songs. By the time Ian decided to pursue music and songwriting professionally, he had already spent decades breaking things, fixing what he could, learning from his mistakes, and figuring out the rest as he went.
A husband and father, Ian writes with an old-school sensibility: direct, story-driven, human, and more interested in saying something than fitting neatly into a genre. He has an independent streak and little interest in following the herd. His music reflects the same instinct: traditional enough to feel familiar, but irreverent, unpredictable, and comfortable wandering outside the lines. Sometimes that means writing songs that make people uncomfortable. Ian does not need everyone to like him, and he does not expect everyone to like his music.
Offstage, he is usually working on some mechanical or electronics project, playing guitar, or at a local dive bar with his wife singing karaoke and talking to whoever happens to be nearby. He likes places where strangers still talk, musicians trade songs, and a good night with new friends can turn into anything.
That mix of hands-on experience, nonconformity, independence, and egalitarianism is probably the closest thing Ian has to a formula, both in music and everywhere else.

“spent decades breaking things, fixing what he could, learning from his mistakes, and figuring out the rest as he went.”
02 / BOOKING
03 / THE SONGS
A devil, a madam & the gunfighter who buried his pistols for his boy.
“He was faster than the devil / she was hotter than the sun…”
First truck, first freedom — and passing it on down the line.
“Two kids on a bench seat in a rusted truck…”
What your folks plant in you, and the weeds you have to dig out.
“Your folks plant the seeds / some grow fruit and some grow weeds…”
A family split apart under the flag that is supposed to protect it.
“It doesn’t feel like freedom / if they can just take it all away…”