Boz Scaggs: The Texas Crooner Who Conquered Silk and Soul

Imagine a lanky kid in 1950s Plano, Texas, his fingers fumbling over a guitar in a dusty garage, the radio crackling with Ray Charles and Bobby Bland, whispering promises of a life beyond the plains. For Boz Scaggs, music wasn’t just a career—it was a compass, a way to channel a restless spirit and a velvet voice into a sound that could straddle blues, rock, and soul with effortless cool. What drove him to pursue it? It was the jolt of hearing T-Bone Walker live at 14, the itch to blend his Southern roots with a wider world, and a quiet resolve to craft songs that hit like a slow burn. That fire turned William Royce Scaggs into a silk-smooth icon whose grooves still simmer decades on.

File Photo: Boz Scaggs performs in Nashville, Indiana, August 2, 2023. (Copyright 2024 Larry Philpot / SoundstagePhotography.com)

From Plano to the Planet

Born June 8, 1944, in Canton, Ohio, Boz was uprooted early—his dad, Royce, a traveling salesman, and mom, Helen, a homemaker, landed in Plano, Texas, by his teens. A shy kid, he found his tribe at St. Mark’s School in Dallas, where classmate Steve Miller handed him a guitar and a nickname—“Bosley,” later “Boz.” By 16, he was gigging with Miller’s The Marksmen, a high school combo churning R&B covers. College at the University of Wisconsin-Madison fizzled—music tugged harder.

The ‘60s took him global—London with The Ardells, Sweden with The Other Side, then back to San Francisco by 1967, where Miller’s Steve Miller Band beckoned. Married to Carmella Storniola (1967-1980, sons Oscar and Austin) and later Dominique Gioia (1992-2018, her death), Boz’s life straddled stages and stability, his Texas drawl a constant thread.

A Career of Blues and Brilliance

Boz’s career spans bands and solo stardom. He cut teeth with the Steve Miller Band (1967-1968)—Steve Miller (guitar, vocals), Boz Scaggs (guitar, vocals), Lonnie Turner (bass), Tim Davis (drums), Jim Peterman (keys)—on Children of the Future and Sailor (both 1968). He split for a solo run, debuting with Boz Scaggs (1969), Duane Allman guesting. Early ‘70s albums—Moments (1971), My Time (1972)—built buzz, but Silk Degrees (1976) exploded—six million sold, a soul-pop juggernaut with Toto’s Jeff Porcaro (drums), David Paich (keys), and David Hungate (bass) as his studio core.

The ‘80s brought Middle Man (1980) and a hiatus—burnout and family—before Other Roads (1988). Later, he leaned bluesy—Come On Home (1997), Memphis (2013)—and jazzy with Speak Low (2008). No side bands, but he’s produced for Phoebe Snow and jammed with Donald Fagen. Relationships? He’s tight with Michael McDonald, mentored by Ray Charles. On screen, he’s hit Austin City Limits, guested on Ally McBeal, and scored The West Wing with “Lowdown.” Married life stayed private—Dominique’s 2018 cancer death hushed him briefly.

Awards? Silk Degrees went multi-platinum, snagged a Grammy for “Lowdown” (Best R&B Song, 1977, with Paich), and he’s nabbed nods for blues work. No Hall of Fame yet—fans grumble—but his catalog’s a trophy.

Here’s a rundown of his biggest hits:

  • “Lowdown” – Co-written by Boz Scaggs and David Paich, this 1976 No. 3 hit oozes cool.
  • “Lido Shuffle” – Penned by Scaggs and Paich, this 1976 No. 11 rocks with swagger.
  • “We’re All Alone” – Written by Scaggs, this 1976 ballad hit No. 27 via Rita Coolidge’s cover.
  • “Jojo” – Co-crafted by Scaggs, Paich, and Hungate, this 1980 No. 17 grooves silky.

Controversy in the Smooth Shadows

Boz keeps it clean, but ripples stir. His 1980-1988 hiatus—post-Middle Man burnout—sparked rumors: drugs? Divorce? He’s said it was just “life,” but fans speculated. A 1992 legal spat with ex-manager Tony Gottlieb over royalties—settled out of court—hinted at greed; Boz stayed mum. In 2017, a canceled tour—throat surgery—irked ticket holders; he bounced back, no apologies. His slick sound’s taken heat—too polished for blues purists, too rootsy for pop—but Boz shrugs, “I play what I feel.” Controversy’s light; he’s too smooth to snag.

A Night of Silk and Sweat: LA, 1976

Let’s slip into August 14, 1976, at LA’s Greek Theatre—a 5,900-seat bowl, Silk Degrees three months old and climbing, Boz at 32, hair tousled, voice like honeyed whiskey. Backed by Toto’s finest—Porcaro pounding, Paich twinkling—he opened with “What Can I Say,” the crowd swaying under summer stars. Mid-set, “Lowdown” slinked in, and a stage light blew—sparks rained, a tech yelped. Boz grinned, “Guess we’re hot tonight,” and kept crooning, bass thumping through the glitch.

Then, “Georgia”—a deep cut—and a drunk fan rushed the stage, mic stand toppling. Boz sidestepped, sang on, security hauling the guy off as the band stretched the groove, Porcaro’s drums a heartbeat. “He was half my size and twice my drunk,” Boz laughed later. They closed with “Lido Shuffle,” the place erupting—hands clapping, voices shouting “Lido!” past curfew. “That night,” he told Billboard, “felt like we cracked LA wide open.” A bootleg floats—“The Sparkler Set”—a sweaty, silky triumph fans still chase. Jeff Porcaro said, “Boz owned it—cool as hell, chaos or not.” It’s the moment Silk Degrees went from album to anthem, Boz’s star blazing bright.


Boz Scaggs’ journey is Texas grit meets Cali gloss—a crooner who stitched blues into pop’s fabric. From Plano garages to Vegas lounges, he’s spun silk from soul. Catch him in 2025, and that voice still slides, smooth as ever, a lowdown legacy unbroken.