A tornado inspires both awe and respect in anyone who experiences it. A whirlwind of energy a funnel cloud changes everything in its path, leaving materials scattered literally all over the place. In many respects, Texas Tornados reflect that kind of energy in their third album, HANGIN' ON BY A THREAD.

With a passion for a wide variety of musical. styles, the foursome incorporates many of those styles into a basic Tex-Mex structure, and ends up with a challenging, inventive package that -- like the ruins from the original tornado -- is all over the place. The core of the album remains The Tornados' hypnotic blend of South Texas' Mexican and Gringo cultures. But the quartet infuses such far-flung genres as barroom boogie (on the title track), reggae ("La Grande Vida") and 50's rock & roll romance ("Trying"). While expanding its musical boundaries, the group maintains a cohesive identity throughout.

The Texas Tornados ought to cover a wide territory, given the distinctive histories of the group. Augie Meyers and Doug Sahm played in The Sir-Douglas Quintet, landing pop hits with "She's About A Mover" and "Mendocino"; Freddy Fender earned regional success as The Bee Bop Kid during the late '50s, then came into his own as a country balladeer with the million-sellers "Before The Next Teardrop Falls" and "Wasted Days And Wasted Nights"; and Flaco Jimenez' accordion (heard, incidentally, on the Dwight Yoakam and Buck Owens hit, "Streets Of Bakersfield", as well as efforts by artists like Ry Cooder, Linda Ronstadt and Bryan Ferry) is perhaps the best-known voice from conjunto, a form of dance music that borrows from polkas and waltzes.

Fender, Meyers and Sahm all worked with record producer Huey Meaux, and occasionally appeared at the same concerts, beginning in the late '50s. Jimenez -- like Meyers and Sahm -- came out of the San Antonio area, but didn't play with his neighbors until 1973, when he appeared on the album DOUG SAHM & FRIENDS, which also featured Bob Dylan, Dr. John and David Bromberg.

Despite their interwoven histories, the four didn't play together until December of 1989, when they performed two nights at Slim's in San Francisco as The Tex-Mex Revue.- Without even rehearsing, they took the stage and won over a pair of sell-out crowds. By the following April, The Tornados were in the studio working on their eponymous debut.

"When the music first came out, I said, 'Oh, Lord, what kind of music are we putting out here?'" Fender confesses. "I couldn't believe we were doing all this accordion shit, with Gringos singin'. I'm thinkin', 'God damn, they'll laugh at us.' And before I knew it, it hit, man."

That's, perhaps, an understatement. The Tornados' first album garnered a Grammy award. The follow-up, ZONE OF OUR OWN, brought in a second nomination. And they attracted the same sort of unprecedented, cross-cultural audience that Willie Nelson once bred. While Nelson brought together hippies and rednecks in the formative stages of the Outlaw movement, The Tornados have successfully blended Hispanics and Caucasians into a loyal group of followers.

"Here we are with Gringos and Mexicans singin' it at the same time, with such flavor," reflects Fender. "Take (Bob Dylan's) "Ramona," for example. When you put out a Mexican song, and you're a Gringo singin' it, with the accordion in the back, and you are convincing, if that's not a miracle, I don't know what a miracle is."

Much-of the miracle lies-in the experience of The Tornados' individual members..The band is founded on. The sexual innuendo of "Guacamole"; the soulful intensity of "The One And Only," written by Sahm's son Shawn,(of whom the elder Sahm says, "My boy wrote a killer here. It blew his mind when Freddy said he loved it!); and the bouncy flavor of "A Mover El Bote" (translation: "Move Your Boodie") add up to a ton of fun. It also adds up to a Tex-Mex record with enough variety to challenge the energy of old-time Top 40 radio. Even The Tornados themselves are proud of HANGIN' ON BY A THREAD. "I been makin' albums for years," Meyers explains. "Once an album is done and packaged, I never listen to it again. I've always done that. But I find myself in my car, pullin' this tape out and playing it on the highway. That's a good sign."