It was when The Clash invited Joe Ely to join them on tour in 1980 that I began to understand the parallels between punk and rebel country music.

The Texas troubadour was a surprise support act for the flag bearers of punk, sandwiched between The Clash and dub toaster Mikey Dread – as diverse a bill as you could imagine.

Then there was the night I went to see Joe Ely at the Hope & Anchor and he was joined onstage by his fellow Joe – Strummer – and guitarist Mick Jones. Ely later sang backing vocals on Should I Stay Or Should I Go.

The exposure earned him further support slots with rock bands, including The Rolling Stones and Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, The Kinks and The Pretenders.

Ely’s music spanned many genres, from rockabilly to honky tonk country and Texas folk-blues, though his inspiration to play music came from seeing Jerry Lee Lewis when he was a child – an influence you can hear on Live Shots, the album recorded on that Clash tour in 1980.

He started out in the early ’70s as a member of his home state’s legendary country trio The Flatlanders with Butch Hancock and Jimmie Dale Gilmour; they made only one album but reunited after their music was featured in The Horse Whisperer.

In the late ’90s he joined a Tex-Mex supergroup, Los Super Seven, and won a Grammy for their album, while continuing to release solo albums. Only a year ago he persuaded Bruce Springsteen to sing on one of his own songs.

I first came across him through his 1978 album Honky Tonk Masquerade, an example of what is often called “hard” country, filled with storytelling songs capturing an American West I had only seen in movies at the time.

He was the real thing: his family had worked on the Rock Island Line railroad – immortalised in song by Johnny Cash – dating back to the start of the century, and he grew up in Lubbock, birthplace of Buddy Holly.

A gifted songwriter, Ely was never precious about the source material, and the core of his live set included songs by Buddy Holly and his old Flatlanders compadres, like Dallas (Jimmie Dale Gilmore) and a handful of Butch Hancock tunes, including my favourites – Boxcars and She Never Spoke Spanish To Me.

But let’s remember him with one of his own songs, Honky Tonk Masquerade, which defined his sound – and introduced him to me all those years ago.