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Bill Payne: A Non-Traditionalist Finds His Zone

12:00 AM EST on January 11, 2013

Just as Little Feat has adjusted to the loss, two years ago, of original drummer Richie Hayward with a busy tour schedule and the 2012 release of Rooster Rag, its first new album with original material in nearly a decade, more bad news was revealed just after Christmas. Paul Barrere revealed on the band’s website, that he will be taking a leave of absence due to treatment necessary to combat Hepatitis C.

He plans on completing the group’s current tour, which runs through March and includes several weeks in the U.S., a handful of dates with Leon Russell, European shows and the group’s 11th annual Extravaganza in Jamaica.

I heard the news during my phone interview with founding member Bill Payne, who sounded like a mixed bag of shocked, frustrated and resigned to carry on despite the band going on what could be a year long hiatus as Barrere works to fully regain his health. Last year, Payne played his first solo concerts as well as pursued his non-music interests, which resulted in his photos being exhibited in galleries and his writing published in national magazines. During our conversation he had no firm plans for other than a desire to keep busy and “get some things rolling.”

Due in part to his activities outside of the band he ignored writing songs for nearly eight years. An introduction to former Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter blossomed with the two collaborating on four numbers that appear on Rooster Rag and nine additional tunes. Besides, rejuvenating Payne’s composing skills, the album’s dozen tracks are comprised of originals by Barerre and longtime guitarist/vocalist Fred Tackett. They are bookended by two blues covers by Mississippi John Hurt’s “Candyman Blues” and Willie Dixon’s “Mellow Down Easy.”

As always, the band switches gears from rock to blues, jazz, country, soul and New Orleans funk; often combining multiple styles into one song. That’s what caught the attention of fans, which now span several generations, and that’s what satisfies Payne who describes his pursuits as a songwriter and musician as being “not a traditionalist in any way shape or form.”

JPG: You were on the road for much of the year supporting Rooster Rag, you first album of new material in nine years. It’s not like you haven’t been busy but why the songwriting gap?

BP: Well, there’s a couple reasons. One, we were making a record with Jimmy Buffett. Buffett was involved, and it wasn’t his involvement that slowed it down. The guests that we were putting on this one record ( Join the Band ) turned out to be a really…you’ve got to go through the guests, through the managers, through the labels. So, that took about five years out of the eight year hiatus.

Then, the other, at least two years, Richie Hayward was on the way out. Gabe Ford was learning the ropes with us, he was Richie’s drum tech, Robben Ford’s nephew, he joined us on drums. We were gonna do a blues record at one point. I thought of that in the middle or maybe even before we started that Little Feat and Friends record. I have a tough time with (slight laugh) what we call these records sometimes. Rooster Rag is easy. I’ve been seeing roosters everywhere I go. At any rate, we also had a lot of live albums. There were a lot of things that were going on.

What got me back into action was Robert Hunter. Cameron Sears (Little Feat and RatDog manager, former CEO of Grateful Dead Productions and Dead tour manager) introduced Paul Barrere and I to Hunter. Paul wanted to change some lyrics, I believe. That didn’t go down too well. (slight laugh) I guess I got a different set of lyrics and I wrote something to it and I got the a-ok and began a process that has continued up until last week. I just turned it my 13th song with Robert. I’ve got one I’m gonna work on when I get home. So, we’re continuing the process. It’s not like I can’t suggest changes. I certainly can and do, as does he. We work things out. Mainly, if I’m going to change anything lyric-wise I’m gonna say, “Look, I think we really out to lose this section. We have a lot of lyrics here. I don’t know that we need that many.” He’ll usually go, “Yeah.”

JPG: Maybe you say it in a way that works better than Paul.

BP: I don’t know. (laughs) He’s a very interesting guy. Obviously, a great lyricist. I told him, “The music is in the lyrics already.” And he said, “Yeah, but it takes a composer to get ‘em out.” So, we pat each other on the back a little bit.

JPG: I’ve interviewed a lot of musicians over the years, some of whom have worked with Robert Hunter. I always say that all bands should use him as a lyricist…

BP: (laughs) I agree. He does it with enough people. That’s for sure.

JPG: Yeah, over the past decade he’s been busy. Besides you, he’s worked with Jim Lauderdale and 7 Walkers…

BP: I’m gonna listen to some Lauderdale stuff. I’m always curious but, apparently, not curious enough. (slight laugh) to find out what other people do with his stuff. I can almost guarantee you I’ve got many many more chords than most of these guys are gonna throw into one of his songs just by virtue of the way I write. I don’t know that for a fact so I should check it out sometime. He really gives you a great opportunity, at least in my case, to score his lyrics. Part of it, too, is knowing the territory.

At any rate with Rooster Rag it gave me an opportunity to put four songs on the record. Lose the blues idea although we still have “Candyman Blues” and “Mellow Down Easy” as remnants of that project.

JPG: That brings up a couple things. They both go under theme of one’s comfort zone. As far as recording a blues record, I read that you came up with the idea for it while walking around Cleveland. What was it about Cleveland that made you think about the blues?

BP: It was the walk more than Cleveland itself. I was thinking of Sam Clayton in particular. Paul Barrere had a solo record out. I had one out. He had one out with Fred [Tackett]. Shaun Murphy was working on something. And I thought Clayton is the real deal, why don’t we have something for him? By the time I got back to the hotel, “Well, this could be a little Feat project. How about Little Feat: A World of Blues ?’” Open the floodgates to influences and write songs. Maybe the influences cover the [Mississippi] Delta, Chicago blues, Kansas City or any number of things that you can borrow from.

I also thought [jazz icon] Charles Mingus would be a good influence as well. It would have been a Little Feat record but centered around the conversation of blues.”

JPG: That’s interesting. Mingus, because when you think blues you’re more likely to think of Mississippi Delta, Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters…not Charles Mingus.

BP: No, one doesn’t but I happen to have a playful part of me. There’s a song that I’m hoping that we can get on one of these records someday – “Trane’s Blues” as in John Coltrane. It’s not a blues song but it has elements of it and then you stretch out on it.

I’m not a traditionalist in any way shape or form. It says a lot about my sensibilities when it comes to songwriting and where I borrow from. So, if I’ve got a song like “Representing the Mambo,” and people go, “But, where’s the mambo in it?” “It’s in the lyrics. It’s not a representation of a beat. It’s a story.” I’m taking artistic license to get people to come out of their box a little bit and allow me to enjoy what I do, which is not being confined by other people’s rules.

JPG: Going back to the idea of comfort zone, who wouldn’t want to work with Robert Hunter, but you can write on your own, so was it a conscious thought that you wanted to work with someone that would take you out of your comfort zone?

BP: Well, yeah, absolutely. I didn’t have a comfort zone. I hadn’t written anything in seven or eight years. So, there wasn’t a particular zone I was in. I was in a creative zone, I guess, because I was doing my photography. I was writing, not lyrics, but prose. I wrote for a Japanese magazine for three-and-a-half years called PLAYER. When Richie passed away I had a 10,000 word article that was divided between Jambands.com and Relix.com). I wrote about a 2,500 word piece on Gabe Ford, et cetera. I just wrote about a 10,000 word piece on Richard Manuel’s piano, which I used on Rooster Rag. I’m on the cover of Elmore magazine. I don’t know if they used the whole article or not. I haven’t seen it yet but I wrote 4,000 words for…They said, “What I did on my summer vacation?” It’s actually what I did for the year. (slight laugh). So, I write and do all kinds of stuff.

The thing I enjoyed about writing with Robert Hunter, it wasn’t taking me out of a comfort zone. It was actually putting me in one. I scored a few movies before, helped score some things too, one of ‘em was Heartburn, the Nora Ephron movie with Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep that Carly Simon [who scored it] had the dramatic qualities in there. I was able to put some stuff down to make that work and embellish on that, Erik Satie themes, in a song.

But the idea of writing with Hunter is on a song like “Rag Top Down” He said, “Do you know Blood Alley?” I go, “No, I don’t but I know that but you used to live in San Luis Obispo or were from that area and I was down in Santa Maria.” So, I was just down the road. So, the culture of cruising, vatos and cars, I knew a lot about. The band that I joined, the first band I was in was called the Debonairs and all those guys were car guys. I was a surfer and they were car guys. So, I knew the territory. When I handed the song in to him, his comment was, “That’s a damn fine ride.” And I liked that. (slight laugh) At least that’s the one line I remember. He had a couple other things to say that were really nice.

I like the idea of taking lyrics that are very cinematic because that’s my approach to writing music and to melodies. It does take the weight off of me in the sense of writing things but I wrote a song with a guy named Ben Bullington called “The Last Adios.” Ben did the lion’s share of lyrics in it but I came up with a verse that switches here and there. So, I’m still capable of it. I’ve got a song on this record, “The Blues Keep Coming,” with the exception of a couple lines that Gabe Ford threw in the last verse; I had those lines in that song. So, I can write lyrics, all the stuff that’s necessary.

I like to have a place to put things or think that they’re gonna be placed. I don’t wake up in the morning, “Gee, Bonnie Raitt needs a new song…” I reckon I am a songwriter but I’m not a guy that sits down and cranks ‘em out on a daily basis and hawks them. I admire the hell out of people who do that and can do that. It really hones your skills. There’s, obviously, some very, very, very good writers that take that stuff seriously and should. They’re good at it. But, I’ve got a little different freedom than they do. They’re not gonna throw in a section into “Rag Top Down” that I did that states, “I love my car,” and the music absolutely shifts gears. You’re not gonna hear that in one of those songs, necessarily. That’s the freedom I love. It’s allowed me to write songs like “Red Streamliner,” “Gringo,” “Representing the Mambo” and on and on and on and on. But, yeah, I can write a little, too.

I think any kind of writing, any kind of creativity it starts with the major question of what is it you want to say? Then, you figure out how you want to say it. With photography is it gonna be black and white? Sepia tone? Is it full color? Is the color reduced a little bit? Do you blur certain things out or do you bring an image into focus? All the things that give your voice and your vision to it are heavily involved. I love words. Obviously, with poetry a word weighs a hundred pounds as opposed to a 4,000 word article where some might weigh a certain amount but you’re dealing with words of a much lesser weight. It’s more about the idea. So, there’s some sort of intricacies in there. What I enjoy about the creative thing.

I’m in the best place I’ve been probably ever in my life. I’m 63. I just did my first solo shows this year in 2012, (slight laugh) which says a lot. Most of them I’ve done…got up there by myself and had a local band play anyway for three songs or so. A group called Truffle I worked with really good guys, I worked with in Connecticut, the Boat Drunks up in the Midwest. Larry Lister is a dear friend of mine. Bill Adams sat in with me on one gig.

I did the majority of the show myself, talk about my photography. I show it. Read a poem with photography floating by. That and Little Feat and whatever else I’m doing keep me pretty busy.

JPG: Since you mentioned the solo shows, I’ll bring this up now. You’ve adapted quite well to the changes in the music world. You did solo shows that incorporated all aspects of your creative life. I’m looking at your website and from the perspective of a fan it’s easy-to-use and has helpful information on it, band biographies, shows for sale. Then, there’s dealing with social media, the Extravaganza in Jamaica, being on tour, putting out new albums…

BP: Well, the idea of me doing a solo show was…obviously, I waited til I was 63 to do it. (laughs) I did it with great trepidation. It wasn’t until I started singing more that I found confidence in my voice, literally. From there it was a matter of just saying, “Well, let’s begin the process of engagement. How do I start this thing? It’s not Little Feat…”

[Grateful Dead publicist/author] Dennis McNally is a pretty sharp guy and it wasn’t ‘til after I did my first show, which he opened telling stories about the Grateful Dead, that he looked at me and goes, “Now, I get it,” (laughs) because I’d say, “Look, I’m gonna go out there. I’m gonna sing some songs, talk about what I’ve done in my life. I can talk about the blues ‘cause I’ve worked with everybody from John Lee Hooker to Otis Rush to Buddy Guy to Willie Dixon on up and down or I could just talk about some sessions or talk about whatever. Talk about the beginnings of the band, meeting Lowell. Here are some photos that I’ll show while discussing that. Here’s a song nobody’s ever heard ‘cause it was never released. Take people through a little journey not unlike what I do on my solos in “Dixie Chicken” but be able to engage through talking, through showing photography, through poetry, through whatever.

Then, you bring up a guy from a local band and share the idea of when Keith Richards and the Rolling Stones came to hear us en masse at in 1975, I think it was, at Jaap Edenhal right outside of Amsterdam. I was downstairs in the dressing room with Keith and I was like, “Oh man, that’s Keith Richards.” And he’s goes, “Oh, mate. We’re all part of the same cloth.” And, I thought, “Man, this cat, if he’s saying, basically, ‘Welcome to the club,’ then I must be one of the guys.” And when I was reading his biography, he’s talking about being in the dressing room with Muddy Waters and Little Richard, etc., he figures that if he’s in there with those fellas then he must be one of the guys, too. So, h was bestowing that on me. I thought that was pretty cool.

I talk about the community and the fraternity of musicians, which is a whole other thing than being a pop star or anything else that’s under that pop spotlight. It’s about being a player and being able to play music, and being creative whether it’s songwriting or figuring out how you’re gonna get the bass player to play the right thing or vice versa where he gets you to figure out what the hell you’re doing. It’s a tug of war up there most of the time, and the rewards are really significant on the level of what it feels like when it all connects. That connection is not any different for a garage band than it is for the Rolling Stones or Little Feat. It’s the same thing.

JPG: As far as the pop world, it’s something that could have a quick peak and then a very quick fall

BP: That’s why they call it pop, I guess.

JPG: Do you think it’s a blessing in disguise that Little Feat has been popular all these years but you haven’t been overwhelmingly…

BP: …successful (laughs) Yeah, I would say it’s a blessing. When people…the other day saying, “Does it bother you that you’re not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?” And I say, “No, not really. I’m not gonna say it wouldn’t be nice but it’s not what we do this for. Jimmy Buffett asked me the same question. I said, “No. Those accolades…we’ve had a lot of accolades. I just described one of them to you with Keith Richards. Bob Dylan came up to me, “Hey Billy, you remember the Bottom Line?” You can’t get any better than that or seeing Levon Helm’s smiling face if you look over and he’s sitting up on the stage with you and you’re playing some music. Those are the things you live for. The other stuff…Let’s put the last brick in the wall before we move on to being in the Hall of Fame and Museum. We’re already in the Museum as it is. I’ve got “Oh Atlanta” and something else in there.

JPG: Your diaries.

BP: Yeah, some kind of diaries and things. I’m well aware of those surroundings but we made exactly the kind of impact I hoped, that Lowell and I hoped we would when we first started this stuff, what called the Experiment in Terror back in 1969. (laughs)

JPG: When you talk about bringing people into the club, Little Feat is one of those artists, the precursor, one of the fathers to what’s now known as the jamband genre. There are artists that have been influenced by you and the band’s idea that you don’t have to strictly play rock or country or…we can be a whole bunch of things at once and it’s okay.

BP: Yeah because the platform of being a band is, again, to promulgate what you want to say as an artist and who you want to say it with, not only the band but are you bringing in a horn section? Who’s your artist that you’re linking up with for the covers? In our case bit was Neon Park. It’s a community of things that happen and allow it to happen. We’ve gone through a lot of changes over the years but there’s an honesty about the way things have fallen together and have held it together. I would have never dreamt that you can do this without Lowell George, for example. Then, the idea was can you do it without Richie Hayward? I think some of the suggestions being thrown at me and us if we hired or tried to hire one of two of those people, the weight of it would have sunk the ship. We simply chose a guy that was Richie’s drum tech and not because he was his drum tech but because he was out on tour…he asked if can go out on tour at one point with his uncle Robben [Ford]. So, he’s out there with Jorma Kaukonen and Ruthie Foster. I’ll tell you this Robben Ford doesn’t let anybody up onstage unless they can play whether you’re family or not. So, he’s gotta have something going for him. I didn’t even know he played drums until the last six months he was with us. I just happened to pop in on a soundcheck early and there was Gabe up there pounding away. I was like, “That sounds good. Who’s that? Oh fuck, it’s Gabe Ford.” The bigger question was how big is his vocabulary. I said, “We’ll sort that out.” He’s an amazing player.

He and I just did a gig at Yoshi’s in Oakland. Sold out show. We had his uncle Robben up there with us which helped make it a sold out show and very good attendance on the second show that evening. Huge storm hit California, so the place was on storm watch. Had a great crowd. Gabe and I are gonna do some more things.

I don’t know if you read on our website that Paul, he’s going to have to take, we’re gonna have to take about a year off. He’s got some medical issues he’s got to deal with. So, there’s a bit of a scramble going on right now. We’re all trying to absorb what all this means. But, it’s public knowledge now, which is the reason I’m bringing it up. But, it’s just another turn in the road. We’re hopeful. Really, I think Paul will be able to come back and do this but there is a little bit of wait-and-see. In the midst of wait-and-see I’m gonna try and get some more work. I can’t sit during this. I’ve gotta get some things rolling.

JPG: I’m sorry to hear that about Paul. Wishing him good luck with that. But, in regards to the earlier question I was referring to Little Feat’s influence on the jamband scene and bands such as Widespread Panic, Chris Robinson…

BP: That’s a question for those guys because I don’t really know. The Grateful Dead certainly influenced a lot of those guys. I’ve been told been told that we have some influence as well with some of those bands.

JPG: Do you just ignore that fact or do you just say, “Thank you” and move on?

BP: I think it’s more “Thank you” and…I guess it’s move on. It’s not bad. They’re doing what they’re doing. It’s great stuff. The influences go both ways is what I found. I know we influenced Phish, for example, and they returned the favor to us by spotlighting Waiting for Columbus years ago for one of their Halloween shows. We did “Sample in a Jar” one time. I’ve played with Mike Gordon. He was on one of our records and he sat in when Paul and I were with Phil & Friends. These things go around and around and around.

I feel privileged to be part of that scene, and I’ve also worked to be a part of it. Those are the early designs that Lowell and I talked about, which is we don’t have to be a household word but let’s see if we can build influences out there and take the things that influenced us, whether it’s Willie Dixon….shoot, 20 years, 25 years later or more and be sitting in a rehearsal room at Madison Square Garden with Willie Dixon, Richie Hayward, Paul Barrere and George Porter on bass. It was one of those moments you pinch yourself like writing with Robert Hunter and go, “My God. I’m in a dressing room (laughs) with Willie Dixon.” He’s a tall man. He’s got the three-piece suit on and a pork pie hat. He’s taking his handkerchief out, wiping his face and looking at Richie Hayward and goes, “The drums are too loud. I can’t stand it when it’s too loud.” Richie Hayward never played softer in his life. (laughs) Then, we talked to Hubert Sumlin years later after that, who played guitar with Howlin’ Wolf (Chester Burnett), and he says, “Oh yeah. Willie Dixon, he was a boxer. So, when he would threaten you, well, he would never threaten you guys, but when he was threatening us he could back it up by beating us up if he wanted to. He never touched me but I didn’t want him to, so I did what he asked.” (laughs)

JPG: And Led Zeppelin dared to rip off a song of his?

BP: Well, ignorance can be bliss. I don’t know if it was ignorance or not. I gotta say that Richie Hayward worked with Robert Plant. In the latter stages of Little Feat before Lowell passed away, Led Zeppelin offered us about 50 grand to play a gig with them over at England, which was…it still is a lot of money. I saw Jimmy Page in New Orleans one time. He was at dinner or late lunch, whatever it was, I walked up to him and said, “Please excuse me for interrupting your evening but I just wanted to briefly thank you. I’m Bill Payne from Little Feat. You guys made a very very generous offer years ago and I never got a chance to personally thank you for it.” That kind of thing. The Yardbirds, I saw the Yardbirds in Pismo Beach, California, I was a teenager. Our friends, we all go to see Jeff Beck play. Jeff Beck’s not playing. “Oh fuck. Who’s up there?” Guy starts playing guitar. It’s Jimmy Page, “Oh! He’s good!” It was just a great night.

With little Feat part of what we’ve done and what makes it work is, okay, Gabe Ford is not Richie Hayward and Richie Hayward is not Gabe Ford. You’re not erasing Richie Hayward or even trying to. You’re just saying, “Here’s what this music sounds like under another guy who has ultimate respect for Richie Hayward and yet doesn’t sound like him.” He does certain things that give a nod to Richie but Richie Hayward was a very unique guy, which is why I said 10,000 words and could have said another 10,000 writing about him. I wanted to give people that younger as well as folks my age a portrait of what this man was. It was an honest appraisal, which is to say that he was like most people, very complicated. You’ve got to give the guy his due. His insecurities were what…you go, “God…and he could still play like that and be that insecure.”

I wanted my son who is 30 years old, when he was in his late 20s met a guy Matt Moss from Steel Toed Slippers who as a little kid, Richie mentored him. They both asked the same question, “Why did this have to happen to Richie?” So, I made it clear why it happened for Richie. He burned the candle at both ends. He led a lifestyle that took him down and yet that was his choice, and he was still one of the most brilliant drummers I ever worked with. He had his ups and downs, wasn’t always the greatest onstage but even when he wasn’t most people didn’t know, but some did. But you’d watch him. It was like watching a guy on a roller coaster. “Man, is he gonna stay on the tracks or not?” It was an amazing thing that he did when he was on… I worked with Vinnie Colaiuta, Jeff Porcaro and some of the best guys in the world and Richie Hayward is right in there with them. But Gabe Ford is a motherfucker and I would say that to anybody anytime.

JPG: I wanted to bring this up after you mentioned Waiting for Columbus. It’s been viewed for years as one of the best live albums ever made and was recently on the “Rolling Stone” Best Live Album list. It’s interesting that it’s so revered yet it’s a different kind of live album where it comes from various dates and has overdubs versus what purists now would want all tracks from a specific date, warts-and-all, that showed a particular representation of the band. I’m curious your view of the album now and how it’s held up all these years.

BP: Well, I think that it’s held up amazingly well and it does for a reason because…it never was a purist record by the way. There were overdubs on that album. I edited the piano solo on “Dixie Chicken” and made no bones about it. “I like what I did the other night better than that. Let’s put that in.” Some guitars were overdubbed, some vocals, maybe a bass fix or two, that kind of thing.

I am not a purist, period. I don’t knock people that are but I’m just not one of ‘em. I didn’t have a lot of control over that record. We just did what we did, and I made a few suggestions of what I’d like to fix. The only thing that was fixed in the keyboards was making that edit in “Dixie Chicken” solo that I had input on.

I don’t know what people are doing today because I don’t know how people make live records anymore. We just did something where we had a live record and I said, “I want to fix a couple things. I want to redo my vocals with “Gringo.”” And one of the guys that was involved it, he wasn’t talking about the idea of keeping it pure because if he had I would have said, “Take the fucking thing off the record. I don’t want that representation out there.” I’ve got enough warts out there as it is that people can listen to the YouTube performance or anything else and critique the shit out of it or not or dig it or be influenced by it. It doesn’t matter to me. Those are home movies. This is a record and I want to apply the same standards that I did on what is an iconic record to this one. It’s not gonna be Waiting for Columbus. There’s only one of those.

And I think that’s why it stands out, too. It wasn’t the first by any stretch of a live record. James Brown’s Live at the Apollo, give me a break. It was a very moving record. The hair on my arms was standing up when we went from “Hey Lordy…” on [opening number] “Join the Band” into “Fat Man in the Bathtub.” It was just like, “Oh…my…God.” When I heard it in the studio for the first time it threw me.

I was doing a radio interview in Bozeman, Montana about a week-and-a-half ago before coming out here. The deejay, he’s a sushi chef, down at this place, Dave’s Sushi, which I really love. My wife’s and my favorite place in Bozeman. It’s KGLT, a community radio station. He says, “Oh, that “Mercenary Territory” that thing Lenny Pickett played on. Lowell does this climb up on the slide that seems to go beyond the frets. That kind of thing.” And I said, “Yeah, and then Lenny just peals the rest of your head that’s left that Lowell missed by doing the same thing.” It just an amazing deal. I said, “But that track was cut at a soundcheck.” We took liberties with things and that’s just the way it goes. The influence that record has had on people, I think it’s rightfully so. The drums weren’t messed with, the keyboards, other than that one thing weren’t messed with. Most everything was pretty much as it was but there were a few fixes.

I agreed wholeheartedly with Lowell on this is what I’m trying to say.

If I was working with somebody else though and they said, “Hey, we’ve got to leave it alone,” and it was their project then I’d go, “Yeah, why not?”

I have a way to put this in a box with regards to what errant licks can lead to. I was in a session with the Doobie Brothers. It was their second album. Second time I was called in to play the whole record in one day. So, I did. At one point I played this really goofy lick. I stopped the tape. I said, “Hey. I want to redo that section. I was just kinda messin’ around.” And they go, “No, no, no. we loved that.” I said, “No. You don’t….I was…I meant to put it in ‘cause my mind was drifting but I didn’t really want to that in there. Can I please do it again?” “No. We dig it.” So, I walk into the control room. Tommy Johnston’s in there, the guy who wrote the song. Ted Templeman, the producer. Donn Landee, the engineer. I said, “Look, when I was a kid I used play the piano in fourth and fifth grade. Go over to the keyboard and play this little Chinese song. I’d play it. Go back. Standing ovation. Get out on the playground. Get beat up like everybody else. Life moves on. So, that’s what I was doing. So, if you wouldn’t mind I would like to replace that part.” And they said, “No, we’re keeping it.” And I go, “Alright. Fuck it.”

Twenty-two years later, 24 year later, whatever the hell it was, I get a call from Tommy Johnston. “Hey Billy. Remember that lick you didn’t like in that song.” I go, “Yes. What about it?” He goes, “As a result of that lick and that story you told I went home that night and called that song “China Grove.” (laughs) I go, “Where’s my publishing Tommy?” (laughs)

At any rate so, sometimes, be a purist, leave it alone and let the chips fall where they may.