First interview of this issue and it’s one
that I’m particularly pleased to have arranged. Andre Williams is a man for
whom the epithet ‘legend’ is just not enough. He began his musical career in
the mid-Fifties. Releasing such classics as ‘Bacon Fat’ and ‘Jail Bait’ (highly
regarded by The Cramps among others) he then moved over to work with the early
Motown Records, co-writing with Stevie Wonder before working with Ike &
Tina Turner. In the late Sixties he scored another hit with the excellent
‘Cadillac Jack’, and then co-wrote with early incarnations of Parliament /
Funkadelic. Unfortunately, hard-living finally caught up with him, but in the Nineties,
he made his comeback both as a live and studio artist, working with the likes
of The Sadies and Jon Spencer to reclaim his place on the stage of rock’n’roll.
Do you need to know any more ? No, you just need to catch up.
So, Andre is back in London for a one-off date (his previous show had been postponed due to illness) but that wasn’t going to stop him, even if the guy is coming up to 76! Having made arrangements, I head along to Marylebone the evening before the gig and meet up with Andre and his manager, Skip, at their Hotel. Finding ourselves a quiet corner in the foyer, we sit down for a chat. Starting at the very beginning, I asked Andre about being born in Alabama back in the Thirties… What memories does he have of of growing up there ?
‘Yeah, I was born in Birmingham. My grandfather and grandmother were very, very religious , so I didn’t get to hear much Rhythm & Blues… well, it was really just Blues back then, because there wasn’t no such thing as Rhythm & Blues at that point. But I didn’t hear much of that, anyway… the music I heard the most was Country music. But as a person, you knew what you could do and you knew what you couldn’t do, so you didn’t cross the line. It wasn’t like it is now, where there’s a policeman on every rock. Back then, there’d just be one policeman in the whole town and you’d have to call him up if you had a problem. I mean, crime has been crime all the time, but back then people were more religious. They were born in a religious environment so there were very few crooks. I guess it was more moral. It seems a lot more delicate now. People don’t put a value on life like they did in those days. Back then, a funeral was a big thing, and if someone died, almost the whole town would be involved. But now, life is just like, going to the grocery store on Friday, someone died on Saturday, and that’s the end of it ! It’s just an altogether different situation and you have to be on your P’s and Q’s at all times, wherever you go. There’s certain countries you can go to where you can be more relaxed, especially here, because the Law here don’t take no shit. They’ve got it laid down and the people know what it is, so they live by it. But in America, we love to create… crime or anything else ! People are always looking for the easy way ! It’s good to be creative, but sometimes, it’s not so good if you end up creating some bad stuff. I think it’s in your genes… it’s those grandmammas and grandpoppas ! I mean, nowadays you can end up going to jail for spanking your kids. Back in my day, my grandfather would grab the first thing he could lay his hands on and pop me upside my head, if I’d done something I wasn’t supposed to do. And that was the end of it. You wouldn’t do it no more ! But nowadays, everyone’s always trying to find a way to get by… maybe it’s because there’s so many of us. It really is a lot of us.’
So, Andre is back in London for a one-off date (his previous show had been postponed due to illness) but that wasn’t going to stop him, even if the guy is coming up to 76! Having made arrangements, I head along to Marylebone the evening before the gig and meet up with Andre and his manager, Skip, at their Hotel. Finding ourselves a quiet corner in the foyer, we sit down for a chat. Starting at the very beginning, I asked Andre about being born in Alabama back in the Thirties… What memories does he have of of growing up there ?
‘Yeah, I was born in Birmingham. My grandfather and grandmother were very, very religious , so I didn’t get to hear much Rhythm & Blues… well, it was really just Blues back then, because there wasn’t no such thing as Rhythm & Blues at that point. But I didn’t hear much of that, anyway… the music I heard the most was Country music. But as a person, you knew what you could do and you knew what you couldn’t do, so you didn’t cross the line. It wasn’t like it is now, where there’s a policeman on every rock. Back then, there’d just be one policeman in the whole town and you’d have to call him up if you had a problem. I mean, crime has been crime all the time, but back then people were more religious. They were born in a religious environment so there were very few crooks. I guess it was more moral. It seems a lot more delicate now. People don’t put a value on life like they did in those days. Back then, a funeral was a big thing, and if someone died, almost the whole town would be involved. But now, life is just like, going to the grocery store on Friday, someone died on Saturday, and that’s the end of it ! It’s just an altogether different situation and you have to be on your P’s and Q’s at all times, wherever you go. There’s certain countries you can go to where you can be more relaxed, especially here, because the Law here don’t take no shit. They’ve got it laid down and the people know what it is, so they live by it. But in America, we love to create… crime or anything else ! People are always looking for the easy way ! It’s good to be creative, but sometimes, it’s not so good if you end up creating some bad stuff. I think it’s in your genes… it’s those grandmammas and grandpoppas ! I mean, nowadays you can end up going to jail for spanking your kids. Back in my day, my grandfather would grab the first thing he could lay his hands on and pop me upside my head, if I’d done something I wasn’t supposed to do. And that was the end of it. You wouldn’t do it no more ! But nowadays, everyone’s always trying to find a way to get by… maybe it’s because there’s so many of us. It really is a lot of us.’
You eventually moved up to Chicago when you were 16
years old…
‘Yeah, I moved up there with my Mom and Dad, but then my mother died. My father was working at the steel mills because at that time, Chicago was the Steel City. Everyone was coming up there, from all over the Southern part of the country, to work in those steel mills. It was a completely different type of situation than it is now. My father was a young man, and I have to give him credit because I loved him to death, but he was a rolling stone so, after my mother died, he went looking for another fanny ! That just meant that it left me at the point where I had to make my own decisions, at a young age. But when you’re making decisions at that kinda age, you don’t realise the consequences. You’re just thinking about the rewards. So I made a lot of mistakes, but a lot of them helped me to grow.’
How did you first get involved with Fortune Records ?
‘Well, that situation came up… I had been missing school, and back then they had Juvenile Officers. If you missed school too many times, they’d come and get you and put you in a Juvenile Home. Well, I had missed about a month because, for some reason, I didn’t like school. Anyway, my brother, Nathaniel, was two years older than me, so I used his name and joined the Navy and somehow I became a Captains’ Steward. When the captain left the ship, I left with him, and I didn’t have to do the regular stuff. I was the man, and I could wear my cap with a bit of style, while the rest of them had to keep it all straight. But then, when they started the Draft back home, my brothers’ name came up and they realised there was already a Nathaniel Williams in the Service, born of the same father, at the same place, at the same time, and they figured that something was wrong ! They realised one of us wasn’t Nathaniel, so they Court-martialled me and kicked me out of the Navy. It was just a general thing, not a bad Court Martial, because I hadn’t really done anything wrong and the Captain spoke on my side too. Anyway, while I’d been in the Navy, I had a friend called Nathaniel Wilson, and he was from Detroit. So he said, why don’t you go up to Detroit ? He’d already told his mother and father about me, and they said I could take his room, instead of going back to Chicago and getting into trouble. So I went to Detroit and his parents, they weren’t so strict, they were just nice, older people. They had three girls and two boys, and I ended up marrying one of the girls. When I married Carrie, I had to support her, but I was still only 20 years old, so it wasn’t so easy to find good work. I had to find something to do, but all I knew that I was good at was dancing ! I knew that I could talk pretty well, so I just decided to try and make that my career. Talking and dancing ! That’s what really started it. I didn’t just listen to the radio and decide that I wanted to do that, I was more kinda pushed into the business. This was the only thing I could do, and do well, while I took care of Carrie. That’s how I started. Well, there was a lady who used to do the laundry for the people that I was staying with, and that was Dorothy Brown. She said, ‘You should see this boy… He can’t sing, but there’s something about him, and I think you could make something outta this.’ So then, Miss Brown took me up under her wing, and that was Fortune. And we just took it from there. I liked her and she liked me, and she taught me a lot about life. You know, the right way to do things and the wrong way... but getting away with it ! Anyway, one day, we were going down to Fortune and I had a Bacon Sandwich, you know, toast, bacon and eggs. We passed some cotton pickers along the Highway, and I looked at them and thought about it, and there’s how ‘Bacon Fat’ came to me. I saw them and I was eating my bacon sandwich, so that’s how that idea came along. I took it to Miss Brown, but she wouldn’t touch it. She said, the only person who could get away with that kinda pseudo-singing was Cab Calloway. So then I started getting all of the info I could find on him, because he was the only one who was getting by without singing. At that time, you really had to be able to sing to be a star, but I saw that maybe I could make a mixture of Cab Calloway and Johnny Cash. I always liked his persona. He didn’t have to work at it. All the other entertainers had to work at what they were doing, but Johnny Cash could just sit down and mesmorise you. He didn’t have to work, he could just capture you with his character and the way he said it. So, I tried to put that together with my talking. I mean, when you look at it, Johnny Cash and Cab Calloway were so much alike, because neither one of them were great singers, in the usual sense, but they were fantastic story-tellers. They could paint that picture, they could make that portrait. So I decided, I wanted to dress like Cab Calloway but I was going to present myself like Johnny Cash, and that’s how I ended up with this here that you see tonight !’
‘Bacon Fat’ proved to be your first Hit record… What kinda reaction did you get when people first heard it ?
‘When I recorded the song for Miss Brown, she wasn’t there, it was just the boys, and when she heard it, she didn’t like it. She just said, ‘Oh, no, no, no… we can’t put this out ! They’re not going to play it !’ But it just happened that one of the main Disc Jockeys was there on that day, and he was discussing my release with Dorothy. He said, ‘Y’know, I’m going to play this song !’ Well, everyone was catering to the Disc Jockeys, so whatever the Disc Jockeys said, people would go along with it. So he convinced Dorothy to put it out, and that’s how it happened. That was the beginning of Andre Williams.’
Your next Hit record was ‘Jailbait’, which again must have been kinda controversial…
‘Well, Johnny Cash had that persona as a kinda outlaw, he was known as a gangster. Now, with me, I wasn’t a great singer but a good story-teller, so I put those two things together. I was doing some real naughty things at that time, too, so I went to jail. It was just something that I did. I don’t remember what it was… That’s when I wrote ‘Jailbait’. It sorta came from something Good, that was also Bad ! I don’t know how else you can put that. Your intentions were good, but it was a bad thing. Anyway, there was this guy who was a friend of mine, and him and I was going to a concert, but we didn’t have enough money to get the tickets. So, the genius that I was, I figured out a way to get some money… but then we got caught and went to jail. When we go there, there was a young girl in there who had been doing the same thing that we did, and that’s where the idea for ‘Jailbait’ came along. I knew I liked this girl, she’s in jail and I’m in jail, but she’s underage, so she’s jail-bait. So I realised there was something there, and I kept kicking it around, and figured that I could make something outta this… a young girl, still underage, but doing things that an older woman would do… and an older man doing things that a younger man would do ! Hahaha ! I mean, an older man shoulda had more sense than to be doing the things I was doing ! So I put those things together, and that’s how I got ‘Jailbait’. You know, I’d been doing something wrong, so I went to jail, but when I got there, she was the bait. It’s the same thing with all of my songs, they’re written about something I’ve seen or something I’ve done or something I’ve seen somebody else do… I write songs about, you know, I’m going to do this and I’m going to do it that way. A lot of times it worked, and some times it didn’t.’
‘Yeah, I moved up there with my Mom and Dad, but then my mother died. My father was working at the steel mills because at that time, Chicago was the Steel City. Everyone was coming up there, from all over the Southern part of the country, to work in those steel mills. It was a completely different type of situation than it is now. My father was a young man, and I have to give him credit because I loved him to death, but he was a rolling stone so, after my mother died, he went looking for another fanny ! That just meant that it left me at the point where I had to make my own decisions, at a young age. But when you’re making decisions at that kinda age, you don’t realise the consequences. You’re just thinking about the rewards. So I made a lot of mistakes, but a lot of them helped me to grow.’
How did you first get involved with Fortune Records ?
‘Well, that situation came up… I had been missing school, and back then they had Juvenile Officers. If you missed school too many times, they’d come and get you and put you in a Juvenile Home. Well, I had missed about a month because, for some reason, I didn’t like school. Anyway, my brother, Nathaniel, was two years older than me, so I used his name and joined the Navy and somehow I became a Captains’ Steward. When the captain left the ship, I left with him, and I didn’t have to do the regular stuff. I was the man, and I could wear my cap with a bit of style, while the rest of them had to keep it all straight. But then, when they started the Draft back home, my brothers’ name came up and they realised there was already a Nathaniel Williams in the Service, born of the same father, at the same place, at the same time, and they figured that something was wrong ! They realised one of us wasn’t Nathaniel, so they Court-martialled me and kicked me out of the Navy. It was just a general thing, not a bad Court Martial, because I hadn’t really done anything wrong and the Captain spoke on my side too. Anyway, while I’d been in the Navy, I had a friend called Nathaniel Wilson, and he was from Detroit. So he said, why don’t you go up to Detroit ? He’d already told his mother and father about me, and they said I could take his room, instead of going back to Chicago and getting into trouble. So I went to Detroit and his parents, they weren’t so strict, they were just nice, older people. They had three girls and two boys, and I ended up marrying one of the girls. When I married Carrie, I had to support her, but I was still only 20 years old, so it wasn’t so easy to find good work. I had to find something to do, but all I knew that I was good at was dancing ! I knew that I could talk pretty well, so I just decided to try and make that my career. Talking and dancing ! That’s what really started it. I didn’t just listen to the radio and decide that I wanted to do that, I was more kinda pushed into the business. This was the only thing I could do, and do well, while I took care of Carrie. That’s how I started. Well, there was a lady who used to do the laundry for the people that I was staying with, and that was Dorothy Brown. She said, ‘You should see this boy… He can’t sing, but there’s something about him, and I think you could make something outta this.’ So then, Miss Brown took me up under her wing, and that was Fortune. And we just took it from there. I liked her and she liked me, and she taught me a lot about life. You know, the right way to do things and the wrong way... but getting away with it ! Anyway, one day, we were going down to Fortune and I had a Bacon Sandwich, you know, toast, bacon and eggs. We passed some cotton pickers along the Highway, and I looked at them and thought about it, and there’s how ‘Bacon Fat’ came to me. I saw them and I was eating my bacon sandwich, so that’s how that idea came along. I took it to Miss Brown, but she wouldn’t touch it. She said, the only person who could get away with that kinda pseudo-singing was Cab Calloway. So then I started getting all of the info I could find on him, because he was the only one who was getting by without singing. At that time, you really had to be able to sing to be a star, but I saw that maybe I could make a mixture of Cab Calloway and Johnny Cash. I always liked his persona. He didn’t have to work at it. All the other entertainers had to work at what they were doing, but Johnny Cash could just sit down and mesmorise you. He didn’t have to work, he could just capture you with his character and the way he said it. So, I tried to put that together with my talking. I mean, when you look at it, Johnny Cash and Cab Calloway were so much alike, because neither one of them were great singers, in the usual sense, but they were fantastic story-tellers. They could paint that picture, they could make that portrait. So I decided, I wanted to dress like Cab Calloway but I was going to present myself like Johnny Cash, and that’s how I ended up with this here that you see tonight !’
‘Bacon Fat’ proved to be your first Hit record… What kinda reaction did you get when people first heard it ?
‘When I recorded the song for Miss Brown, she wasn’t there, it was just the boys, and when she heard it, she didn’t like it. She just said, ‘Oh, no, no, no… we can’t put this out ! They’re not going to play it !’ But it just happened that one of the main Disc Jockeys was there on that day, and he was discussing my release with Dorothy. He said, ‘Y’know, I’m going to play this song !’ Well, everyone was catering to the Disc Jockeys, so whatever the Disc Jockeys said, people would go along with it. So he convinced Dorothy to put it out, and that’s how it happened. That was the beginning of Andre Williams.’
Your next Hit record was ‘Jailbait’, which again must have been kinda controversial…
‘Well, Johnny Cash had that persona as a kinda outlaw, he was known as a gangster. Now, with me, I wasn’t a great singer but a good story-teller, so I put those two things together. I was doing some real naughty things at that time, too, so I went to jail. It was just something that I did. I don’t remember what it was… That’s when I wrote ‘Jailbait’. It sorta came from something Good, that was also Bad ! I don’t know how else you can put that. Your intentions were good, but it was a bad thing. Anyway, there was this guy who was a friend of mine, and him and I was going to a concert, but we didn’t have enough money to get the tickets. So, the genius that I was, I figured out a way to get some money… but then we got caught and went to jail. When we go there, there was a young girl in there who had been doing the same thing that we did, and that’s where the idea for ‘Jailbait’ came along. I knew I liked this girl, she’s in jail and I’m in jail, but she’s underage, so she’s jail-bait. So I realised there was something there, and I kept kicking it around, and figured that I could make something outta this… a young girl, still underage, but doing things that an older woman would do… and an older man doing things that a younger man would do ! Hahaha ! I mean, an older man shoulda had more sense than to be doing the things I was doing ! So I put those things together, and that’s how I got ‘Jailbait’. You know, I’d been doing something wrong, so I went to jail, but when I got there, she was the bait. It’s the same thing with all of my songs, they’re written about something I’ve seen or something I’ve done or something I’ve seen somebody else do… I write songs about, you know, I’m going to do this and I’m going to do it that way. A lot of times it worked, and some times it didn’t.’
You were also involved in the very early days
of the Motown label…
‘Well, after ‘Bacon Fat’ started taking off, I was in a barber shop one day. All the black boys used to ‘conk’ our hair, to make it look like the white boys. You know, our hair was all natty, but with the conk, you could straighten it back. So, I’m in the barber shop getting my hair done, and my barber said, there’s a guy here who works at Fords, and I want you to listen to this boy because he’s got some songs. Maybe you’d be able to introduce him to somebody and help him get off the ground ? So I met him and I went over to Berry Gordy’s house, and I listened to the song, which was Marv Johnson… I was on United Artists at that time, because Dorothy had released ‘Bacon Fat’ to them, so I spoke to their A&R director and said, there’s a guy here in Detroit who has some songs and a new artist that I really wish you would listen to. He says, tell the guy to send me the songs and a picture of the singer. Well, Berry sent him the picture and a tape of the song, which was ‘Come To Me’, and that turned out to be his first big record. That’s really what started things for Berry, and also how me and Berry got together. Of course, everyone knows I’ve been hired and fired outta Motown about twenty times ! The thing was, he could never figure out how to repay me, as he always wanted things done his way. I just wasn’t the kinda guy who would do things his way… I had my own ideas. He would move me from A&R, to Artist Development, to this, to that… all the different departments. He fired me out of A&R and then put me in charge of Artist Development, where we were priming the Supremes. But some of the things I was doing there, he didn’t like, so he fired me out of that and put me in charge of Road Managing. That’s how I was able to pick up on all these different parts of the business, and it was a pretty good education. All the while, Berry was getting bigger and bigger, so every time he found an artist that he couldn’t quite put his hands on, he’d get in touch with me. I’d be with some other Company – I’d been with twenty other different companies, and it’s still like that today ! But that’s how that whole situation developed.’
One of the famous stories about your time at Motown was that you co-wrote with Stevie Wonder…
‘No… Stevie was one of the new guys that I really liked, because he was his own man, even as a child. He would come into the studio and knock the piano out of tune, trying to play it, then he’d bust the drums, trying to play them… So Berry was getting ready to fire him, he didn’t want him around the studio. But I said to Berry, there’s something about this boy, you oughtta take a good look at him… I knew he couldn’t just keep hanging around the studio doing these things that Berry didn’t like. So I said, let’s all get together with Micky Stephen, who was the A&R director at that time, and we wrote this song, ‘Thank You Mother’ (aka ‘Thank You For Loving Me All the Way’.) Then we recorded it and it was released on Tamla, and that’s where things really started for Stevie.’
The other people you worked with early in their careers were Ike and Tina Turner…
‘That was a mistake. But it was a growing-up mistake, and it was an experience that I wouldn’t trade-in for nothing in the world. He really taught me the business. He taught me how to finagle in the music business, because Ike was a master of getting things done. Tina was a regular wife, and a real good wife, and would do anything that her husband asked her to do. I’d have to say that I admired him, though I didn’t respect him. But I liked him because if he had something in his mind, then nobody could change it. I admired that about him, though there were other things I didn’t like. On the other hand, I respected Berry, but I didn’t really like him. I liked Ike, but I didn’t respect him. Both of those guys had genius, there weren’t no luck involved. They both knew what they wanted, and it was their way or no way. And it worked because they knew what they wanted to do. So that’s how my involvement with Ike & Tina Turner developed, and that’s also how all the dope and all of that came about. I was always with Ike, day and night, and of course, association brought about simulation, hahaha ! That’s how that all happened…’
Your next Hit single didn’t happen until the late Sixties, when ‘Cadillac Jack’ was a hit on Chess / Checker Records…
‘I had just left Motown by then and started working with Leonard at Chess. He had a boy there, and he said to me, this boy has got a song that reminds me so much of ‘Bacon Fat’, because it’s another talker. So he said, why don’t you try it ? I rehearsed it and I liked it, because it was half-singing and half-talking. I mean, people had said I couldn’t sing, but now I could show them the lie, because I could do a little singing on it, as well as doing my talking. And it worked, even though ‘Cadillac Jack’ wasn’t written by me.’
Moving into the early Seventies, you also worked for a while with George Clinton and Funkadelic…
‘Those boys came up to Detroit and they were writers first… there was two of them, so we took them on the writing staff, but that didn’t work out. George was kinda like me, my way or no way, and I admired that. They might have signed him, but they didn’t like none of his stuff. But I was mesmorised because he was doing something that no-one else was doing. They were missing something because George had his own thing going, and it worked. So that’s how we ended up working together. I didn’t actually write any of the songs, all the songs were his, I just helped him put them together. He wasn’t so good at that, back then, so I helped him with the arrangements and stuff.’
During the Eighties, you had a bad time with drug problems, which you’ve spoken about elsewhere, and it wasn’t until 1995 that you started playing and recording again. What was it that made you decide to start making music again ?
‘Because there wasn’t nothing else that I could do ! I had no education cos I quit school at the sixth grade. But I was well-educated… I don’t know if everyone would call it educated, but I knew the Do’s and the Don’ts, and the ones and the threes. The common sense. I knew the difference between a twenty dollar bill and a fifty dollar bill... I’d already put it all together, so that’s how it went.’
‘Well, after ‘Bacon Fat’ started taking off, I was in a barber shop one day. All the black boys used to ‘conk’ our hair, to make it look like the white boys. You know, our hair was all natty, but with the conk, you could straighten it back. So, I’m in the barber shop getting my hair done, and my barber said, there’s a guy here who works at Fords, and I want you to listen to this boy because he’s got some songs. Maybe you’d be able to introduce him to somebody and help him get off the ground ? So I met him and I went over to Berry Gordy’s house, and I listened to the song, which was Marv Johnson… I was on United Artists at that time, because Dorothy had released ‘Bacon Fat’ to them, so I spoke to their A&R director and said, there’s a guy here in Detroit who has some songs and a new artist that I really wish you would listen to. He says, tell the guy to send me the songs and a picture of the singer. Well, Berry sent him the picture and a tape of the song, which was ‘Come To Me’, and that turned out to be his first big record. That’s really what started things for Berry, and also how me and Berry got together. Of course, everyone knows I’ve been hired and fired outta Motown about twenty times ! The thing was, he could never figure out how to repay me, as he always wanted things done his way. I just wasn’t the kinda guy who would do things his way… I had my own ideas. He would move me from A&R, to Artist Development, to this, to that… all the different departments. He fired me out of A&R and then put me in charge of Artist Development, where we were priming the Supremes. But some of the things I was doing there, he didn’t like, so he fired me out of that and put me in charge of Road Managing. That’s how I was able to pick up on all these different parts of the business, and it was a pretty good education. All the while, Berry was getting bigger and bigger, so every time he found an artist that he couldn’t quite put his hands on, he’d get in touch with me. I’d be with some other Company – I’d been with twenty other different companies, and it’s still like that today ! But that’s how that whole situation developed.’
One of the famous stories about your time at Motown was that you co-wrote with Stevie Wonder…
‘No… Stevie was one of the new guys that I really liked, because he was his own man, even as a child. He would come into the studio and knock the piano out of tune, trying to play it, then he’d bust the drums, trying to play them… So Berry was getting ready to fire him, he didn’t want him around the studio. But I said to Berry, there’s something about this boy, you oughtta take a good look at him… I knew he couldn’t just keep hanging around the studio doing these things that Berry didn’t like. So I said, let’s all get together with Micky Stephen, who was the A&R director at that time, and we wrote this song, ‘Thank You Mother’ (aka ‘Thank You For Loving Me All the Way’.) Then we recorded it and it was released on Tamla, and that’s where things really started for Stevie.’
The other people you worked with early in their careers were Ike and Tina Turner…
‘That was a mistake. But it was a growing-up mistake, and it was an experience that I wouldn’t trade-in for nothing in the world. He really taught me the business. He taught me how to finagle in the music business, because Ike was a master of getting things done. Tina was a regular wife, and a real good wife, and would do anything that her husband asked her to do. I’d have to say that I admired him, though I didn’t respect him. But I liked him because if he had something in his mind, then nobody could change it. I admired that about him, though there were other things I didn’t like. On the other hand, I respected Berry, but I didn’t really like him. I liked Ike, but I didn’t respect him. Both of those guys had genius, there weren’t no luck involved. They both knew what they wanted, and it was their way or no way. And it worked because they knew what they wanted to do. So that’s how my involvement with Ike & Tina Turner developed, and that’s also how all the dope and all of that came about. I was always with Ike, day and night, and of course, association brought about simulation, hahaha ! That’s how that all happened…’
Your next Hit single didn’t happen until the late Sixties, when ‘Cadillac Jack’ was a hit on Chess / Checker Records…
‘I had just left Motown by then and started working with Leonard at Chess. He had a boy there, and he said to me, this boy has got a song that reminds me so much of ‘Bacon Fat’, because it’s another talker. So he said, why don’t you try it ? I rehearsed it and I liked it, because it was half-singing and half-talking. I mean, people had said I couldn’t sing, but now I could show them the lie, because I could do a little singing on it, as well as doing my talking. And it worked, even though ‘Cadillac Jack’ wasn’t written by me.’
Moving into the early Seventies, you also worked for a while with George Clinton and Funkadelic…
‘Those boys came up to Detroit and they were writers first… there was two of them, so we took them on the writing staff, but that didn’t work out. George was kinda like me, my way or no way, and I admired that. They might have signed him, but they didn’t like none of his stuff. But I was mesmorised because he was doing something that no-one else was doing. They were missing something because George had his own thing going, and it worked. So that’s how we ended up working together. I didn’t actually write any of the songs, all the songs were his, I just helped him put them together. He wasn’t so good at that, back then, so I helped him with the arrangements and stuff.’
During the Eighties, you had a bad time with drug problems, which you’ve spoken about elsewhere, and it wasn’t until 1995 that you started playing and recording again. What was it that made you decide to start making music again ?
‘Because there wasn’t nothing else that I could do ! I had no education cos I quit school at the sixth grade. But I was well-educated… I don’t know if everyone would call it educated, but I knew the Do’s and the Don’ts, and the ones and the threes. The common sense. I knew the difference between a twenty dollar bill and a fifty dollar bill... I’d already put it all together, so that’s how it went.’
Did you miss performing ?
‘Oh yeah, because I’ve always been the type that, you know, if I see someone and I can see that they’re depressed, I can feel it in some sorta way. But I know I can walk up and wake this guy outta his depression. I can make him come outta that… I can walk up and say, Hey my man, do you need something ? Cos you look like you’re gonna do something that ain’t gonna be good for you, and I want to try to help you out... I’ve always been that kinda guy. So that’s how this situation kinda evolved. That’s how I look at my music. I never wanted to be a millionaire, but I’ve always lived like one. I just didn’t want the responsibilities, you know, the who’s, the what’s, the why’s and the when’s… I just wanted to know, how much and when ? Then I can go out and do it, and that’s my forte. Like, now, I work with Skip, and he sets up everything and we split the money. I don’t have to do nothing except go onstage and do my job, because I know Skip will do his job well. That’s the way my life has been… I’ve lived like a millionaire even though I’ve never had a million dollars. And I know that may sound a little crazy, but when I think about it, for me it’s convenient. Life can be stressful and it can take everything outta you and I don’t want that. So I’m willing to give away half of my talent for someone to do that stuff while I keep the other half to do my thing. People have said to me, Andre, you should be a millionaire ! But all the millionaires that I’ve known, they’ve all had problems. I’ve got some good friends who’ve got a lot of money, but they’ve never been to the places I’ve been… all over Europe, all over Asia… maybe they’ve been to one or two foreign countries, but that’s about it because they’ve always gotta go back to take care of their business. But me, I can go wherever I want, and I ain’t gotta take care of no business. I ain’t even got a telephone. My wife looks after things back at home. I know she makes good decisions, so I can rely on that. I don’t need all that money. All I need is enough to put in my pocket. For some reason, and I haven’t really figured out the whole reason just yet, but I don’t want to be a millionaire. I’ve had millionaire friends, and their house ain’t ever in order. Their wives are fucking five or six different guys, or the guy they hired to run their company is stealing all the money… you know, all that kinda shit. It just ain’t worth it. All I need to know is where, when and why. If I can get all those three things answered, I’m satisfied. Where am I going, when am I going and why am I going. If I can get those three elements, then I’m satisfied because, you know, even if I had a million dollars, I couldn’t carry it around in my pocket. Maybe I only have twenty dollars in my pocket, but I can go to London and enjoy it, while some of these millionaires just can’t do that. They don’t have the kinda life to be able to do that, but all I have to do is put my shit in a briefcase and go. And when I go home, I can feel satisfied. I’m satisfied with just where I am… I mean, I wish I could drive a Rolls Royce, and I’d like to drive a Rolls Royce, but I’m not gonna do what it would take to get it and that’s the important thing. Now, if I happened to get a hit record and I earned a Rolls Royce, then that will be fine, but I ain’t gonna go through all those schemes and little tricks to get a Rolls Royce the way most people do it. If you do things that way, then you just end up in jail or you’re all tied up, so you won’t appreciate it when you get it. But everything that happens to me, I can appreciate it. I can come to London and I don’t have to put on a suit and try to impress someone. All I have to do, is relax in my room, put on the television, eat a hamburger and get ready for my show. I’m satisfied with that, and that’s just Andre Williams. Don’t get me wrong, I would like to have a lot of money, but that would just get me in trouble. For some reason, I can handle a few thousand dollars, but when you get up into twenty or thirty thousand, then I just start to act totally dumb.’
But it’s good that you know that, so you can deal with it your own way…
‘Well, my birthdays coming up and I’m going to be 76, but so many of the guys that I mentored have already died, and so many of the guys that I admired have all died, but I’m still here. They made all their money, and they had the big house on the hill, with the prettiest girl in town, but now they’re in the ground. Yet I’m still here, with twenty dollars in my pocket, so I’m satisfied. To me, that’s a gift.’
I guess it’s like that song on your recent album, ‘Money Ain’t Got No Loyalty’…
‘Yeah, that’s what we’re talking about, right now ! It ain’t got no love, it ain’t got no loyalty. Money don’t care who it goes to, and the person it goes to, they’ve got to be trained to handle it. A dumb person can not handle money, but a gifted person, someone who doesn’t value money more than life, can just slide by.’
‘Oh yeah, because I’ve always been the type that, you know, if I see someone and I can see that they’re depressed, I can feel it in some sorta way. But I know I can walk up and wake this guy outta his depression. I can make him come outta that… I can walk up and say, Hey my man, do you need something ? Cos you look like you’re gonna do something that ain’t gonna be good for you, and I want to try to help you out... I’ve always been that kinda guy. So that’s how this situation kinda evolved. That’s how I look at my music. I never wanted to be a millionaire, but I’ve always lived like one. I just didn’t want the responsibilities, you know, the who’s, the what’s, the why’s and the when’s… I just wanted to know, how much and when ? Then I can go out and do it, and that’s my forte. Like, now, I work with Skip, and he sets up everything and we split the money. I don’t have to do nothing except go onstage and do my job, because I know Skip will do his job well. That’s the way my life has been… I’ve lived like a millionaire even though I’ve never had a million dollars. And I know that may sound a little crazy, but when I think about it, for me it’s convenient. Life can be stressful and it can take everything outta you and I don’t want that. So I’m willing to give away half of my talent for someone to do that stuff while I keep the other half to do my thing. People have said to me, Andre, you should be a millionaire ! But all the millionaires that I’ve known, they’ve all had problems. I’ve got some good friends who’ve got a lot of money, but they’ve never been to the places I’ve been… all over Europe, all over Asia… maybe they’ve been to one or two foreign countries, but that’s about it because they’ve always gotta go back to take care of their business. But me, I can go wherever I want, and I ain’t gotta take care of no business. I ain’t even got a telephone. My wife looks after things back at home. I know she makes good decisions, so I can rely on that. I don’t need all that money. All I need is enough to put in my pocket. For some reason, and I haven’t really figured out the whole reason just yet, but I don’t want to be a millionaire. I’ve had millionaire friends, and their house ain’t ever in order. Their wives are fucking five or six different guys, or the guy they hired to run their company is stealing all the money… you know, all that kinda shit. It just ain’t worth it. All I need to know is where, when and why. If I can get all those three things answered, I’m satisfied. Where am I going, when am I going and why am I going. If I can get those three elements, then I’m satisfied because, you know, even if I had a million dollars, I couldn’t carry it around in my pocket. Maybe I only have twenty dollars in my pocket, but I can go to London and enjoy it, while some of these millionaires just can’t do that. They don’t have the kinda life to be able to do that, but all I have to do is put my shit in a briefcase and go. And when I go home, I can feel satisfied. I’m satisfied with just where I am… I mean, I wish I could drive a Rolls Royce, and I’d like to drive a Rolls Royce, but I’m not gonna do what it would take to get it and that’s the important thing. Now, if I happened to get a hit record and I earned a Rolls Royce, then that will be fine, but I ain’t gonna go through all those schemes and little tricks to get a Rolls Royce the way most people do it. If you do things that way, then you just end up in jail or you’re all tied up, so you won’t appreciate it when you get it. But everything that happens to me, I can appreciate it. I can come to London and I don’t have to put on a suit and try to impress someone. All I have to do, is relax in my room, put on the television, eat a hamburger and get ready for my show. I’m satisfied with that, and that’s just Andre Williams. Don’t get me wrong, I would like to have a lot of money, but that would just get me in trouble. For some reason, I can handle a few thousand dollars, but when you get up into twenty or thirty thousand, then I just start to act totally dumb.’
But it’s good that you know that, so you can deal with it your own way…
‘Well, my birthdays coming up and I’m going to be 76, but so many of the guys that I mentored have already died, and so many of the guys that I admired have all died, but I’m still here. They made all their money, and they had the big house on the hill, with the prettiest girl in town, but now they’re in the ground. Yet I’m still here, with twenty dollars in my pocket, so I’m satisfied. To me, that’s a gift.’
I guess it’s like that song on your recent album, ‘Money Ain’t Got No Loyalty’…
‘Yeah, that’s what we’re talking about, right now ! It ain’t got no love, it ain’t got no loyalty. Money don’t care who it goes to, and the person it goes to, they’ve got to be trained to handle it. A dumb person can not handle money, but a gifted person, someone who doesn’t value money more than life, can just slide by.’
One of the stand-out tracks on your recent
album is ‘Blame It On Obama’…
‘Well. I was sitting back, looking at this whole spectrum of life. All of the smart guys want to get the weight off themselves, and all of the non-smart guys just ain’t got no weight on them-selves to carry in the first place. So there ain’t nobody else but Obama to put it on !’
It’s exactly what’s been happening in the States just recently, with the Budget problems leading to the shut-down…
‘How shall I put it ? That was a pre-planned disaster. It had been thought-up way ahead. Had it been a white man and this had happened, it would’ve been big trouble. But they saw Obama and decided, they had somebody to put it on, especially with him being the first black President. He’s also well-liked by the people, and there some that don’t like that for some reason. He’s got something that they ain’t got. So that’s the reason why I did that song, ‘Blame It On Obama’. And when you listen to it, I bring it all together in the last verse, when I say, ‘Your wife won’t give you none…’ I took away all of the politics at the front of it and I brought it into real life. What’s happened in America was a well thought-out plan, but it didn’t work and in fact, it backfired. I mean, Obama really has about as much control over the country as you or I do, if you want to know the truth. He has to go through so many people to get things done, how could you blame all this bullshit on one man ? But, you know, that’s the easy way, and I can see how a well-meaning, average guy could blame it on Obama, because they’d think, well, he shoulda done something about that. But in reality, he can’t do nothing if Congress won’t come in with him. So when you look at it, you can see, it was a deliberate plan to try to do whatever they were trying to do. I don’t know what that is, exactly, but it didn’t work. And now they know that it didn’t work, they’re all trying to find a way to get out of it, and that’s why they’re blaming it on Obama. But I don’t think that’s going to work, either, because it’s just too big. If it had been a little smaller, they might have got away with it, but this thing that we’ve just gone through could’ve rocked the whole world and you can’t blame all of that on Obama. How can I put this…? Sometimes, doing the wrong thing can be the right thing. By sitting back and letting this whole thing manifest itself, it all worked out. We’re not going to drown because they can’t afford to let us drown, you know what I mean ? And if that means the Republican Party has gotta suck it up, then they’re just gonna have to suck it up. And right now, they’re doing everything they can to keep from doing that, but sooner or later, they will have to suck it up, or else a third party is going to just ride on in there. I mean, I’m no politician, but I remember my grandfather told me a long time ago, Anything you do, it may not come out in the wash, but it’s sure to come out in the rinse. You’re never gonna get by when you’re carrying something that you shouldn’t have done, and that’s what this whole situation is gonna be. Whatever they think, you can not make this whole world into one world. It wasn’t made to be one world, it was made to be him, her, them and they. And once everybody realises that, and respects that, that’s when we’ll have harmony. At the moment, we have all these people who want to make everyone else the same as them, but sooner or later, that’s gonna come to an end and it’ll just be us. As long as they don’t bomb the whole joint up before then !’
Your last European tour had to be postponed as you had been ill… are you happy to be back here now ?
‘Yeah, this is my first tour since I had a stroke, and I wasn’t supposed to get to do it. The Doctors had said, that’s it, you ain’t coming through this one. But then, the next day, they started saying, how did you get through it, Andre ? I told them, I don’t know… they had me so sedated that I didn’t even know how to figure it our myself ! But it happened and I did it, so now I’m thankful for every day. I don’t worry about tomorrow because I make sure I don’t fuck-up today. Before now, I often had to worry about tomorrow, because I had fucked-up today, in some kinda way or another. But now, when I go to bed, I can go through the whole scenario of what I’ve done that day and I can’t figure out anything that Andre Williams wouldn’t have wanted to have done. And that’s a great feeling. I’m not thinking, I should’ve done this, or I wish I’d done that… I ain’t got that no more, so I can wake up in the morning and think, I did it, these are the consequences, and I can deal with it. Or, even better… there ain’t nothing to deal with, so I can go back to bed ! And now, at 76, that’s just my life. I’m thankful that I’ve been all over the world, to places where millionaires haven’t been and I’ve got people that like me. Some don’t, for some reason or another, but I don’t give a fuck. I haven’t done anything for them to dislike me, so that doesn’t matter. So I’m pretty comfortable with Andre Williams right now, whereas five years ago I wasn’t comfortable at all. Back then, it all seemed to be something that I had to do, and those things were often things that I shouldn’t have done. But this is where I am now, and I’m thankful. Like I've said before, I don’t qualify for Heaven, and Hell is already full… so I’m just stuck ! And that’s about the size of it…’
Not many people could end an interview with a quote like that and really make it stick. In Andre’s case, it rings true and solid. It was a real pleasure to meet and talk to the guy, and it was a buzz just like one of the best gigs. I went home feeling really good, and full of anticipation for the following nights’ show.
The gig takes place at The Blues Kitchen, an odd establishment that splits its’ duties between a restaurant and a venue. The problems soon become apparent ; it may have a reasonably large capacity, but as most of that space is dedicated to the diners (many of whom are clearly not there for the music) the area set aside for live music is small and, for a gig like this, uncomfor-tably packed. There’s a lot of jostling going on, which doesn’t bode too well, but support act King Salami manage to get the place shuffling with a decent set. But it’s Andre Williams that we’re here to see and even the long wait between bands doesn’t dampen the spirits.
Finally, after a short instrumental intro, the man appears, kicking off with ‘Agile Mobile Hostile’ and ‘Bad Motherfucker’ – surely the most serious statement of intent you’re ever likely to hear from a 76 year old ! From there on, the set just doesn’t let-up, classics like ‘Bacon Fat’ rubbing shoulders with ‘Pray For Your Daughter’ and ‘Pussystank’. We’re treated to a fine costume-change half way through the set (from stylish to styling, just like that !) and the encore finally gives us a magnificent version of ‘Jailbait’ before it’s time to run for the last train…
…which in my case, is a bit of a disaster. Even though I’ve got 30 minutes spare to cover a 20 minute tube journey, I end up stuck in a carriage between stations somewhere near Moorgate and, when I eventually reach Liverpool Street, I’m just in time to watch my last train disappearing down the tracks. So, quick decision time… there’s one more train that will only take me as far as Shenfield. Not ideal, still 20 miles short of home, but what the Hell ? I’ve been to a great gig and I’m feeling good. I’ll figure out something. Once at Shenfield, I decide to trek out to the A12… I sorta know the way and I ain’t afraid of the dark ! Takes about 40 minutes, then I decide to try and hitch… third car that passes me pulls up and offers me a lift as far as Chelmsford. The driver is a cabbie heading home after his last delivery and he’s so surprised to see anyone hitching that he’s happy to give me a lift ! Back in Chelmsford, another trek back out to the A12, and again, when I start to hitch, another cab pulls up. Not so generous this time, but he offers a lift back to Witham for a tenner, and then I’m home. Result ! Heed my words - if you trust in the power of rock’n’roll, you will always find a way !
‘Well. I was sitting back, looking at this whole spectrum of life. All of the smart guys want to get the weight off themselves, and all of the non-smart guys just ain’t got no weight on them-selves to carry in the first place. So there ain’t nobody else but Obama to put it on !’
It’s exactly what’s been happening in the States just recently, with the Budget problems leading to the shut-down…
‘How shall I put it ? That was a pre-planned disaster. It had been thought-up way ahead. Had it been a white man and this had happened, it would’ve been big trouble. But they saw Obama and decided, they had somebody to put it on, especially with him being the first black President. He’s also well-liked by the people, and there some that don’t like that for some reason. He’s got something that they ain’t got. So that’s the reason why I did that song, ‘Blame It On Obama’. And when you listen to it, I bring it all together in the last verse, when I say, ‘Your wife won’t give you none…’ I took away all of the politics at the front of it and I brought it into real life. What’s happened in America was a well thought-out plan, but it didn’t work and in fact, it backfired. I mean, Obama really has about as much control over the country as you or I do, if you want to know the truth. He has to go through so many people to get things done, how could you blame all this bullshit on one man ? But, you know, that’s the easy way, and I can see how a well-meaning, average guy could blame it on Obama, because they’d think, well, he shoulda done something about that. But in reality, he can’t do nothing if Congress won’t come in with him. So when you look at it, you can see, it was a deliberate plan to try to do whatever they were trying to do. I don’t know what that is, exactly, but it didn’t work. And now they know that it didn’t work, they’re all trying to find a way to get out of it, and that’s why they’re blaming it on Obama. But I don’t think that’s going to work, either, because it’s just too big. If it had been a little smaller, they might have got away with it, but this thing that we’ve just gone through could’ve rocked the whole world and you can’t blame all of that on Obama. How can I put this…? Sometimes, doing the wrong thing can be the right thing. By sitting back and letting this whole thing manifest itself, it all worked out. We’re not going to drown because they can’t afford to let us drown, you know what I mean ? And if that means the Republican Party has gotta suck it up, then they’re just gonna have to suck it up. And right now, they’re doing everything they can to keep from doing that, but sooner or later, they will have to suck it up, or else a third party is going to just ride on in there. I mean, I’m no politician, but I remember my grandfather told me a long time ago, Anything you do, it may not come out in the wash, but it’s sure to come out in the rinse. You’re never gonna get by when you’re carrying something that you shouldn’t have done, and that’s what this whole situation is gonna be. Whatever they think, you can not make this whole world into one world. It wasn’t made to be one world, it was made to be him, her, them and they. And once everybody realises that, and respects that, that’s when we’ll have harmony. At the moment, we have all these people who want to make everyone else the same as them, but sooner or later, that’s gonna come to an end and it’ll just be us. As long as they don’t bomb the whole joint up before then !’
Your last European tour had to be postponed as you had been ill… are you happy to be back here now ?
‘Yeah, this is my first tour since I had a stroke, and I wasn’t supposed to get to do it. The Doctors had said, that’s it, you ain’t coming through this one. But then, the next day, they started saying, how did you get through it, Andre ? I told them, I don’t know… they had me so sedated that I didn’t even know how to figure it our myself ! But it happened and I did it, so now I’m thankful for every day. I don’t worry about tomorrow because I make sure I don’t fuck-up today. Before now, I often had to worry about tomorrow, because I had fucked-up today, in some kinda way or another. But now, when I go to bed, I can go through the whole scenario of what I’ve done that day and I can’t figure out anything that Andre Williams wouldn’t have wanted to have done. And that’s a great feeling. I’m not thinking, I should’ve done this, or I wish I’d done that… I ain’t got that no more, so I can wake up in the morning and think, I did it, these are the consequences, and I can deal with it. Or, even better… there ain’t nothing to deal with, so I can go back to bed ! And now, at 76, that’s just my life. I’m thankful that I’ve been all over the world, to places where millionaires haven’t been and I’ve got people that like me. Some don’t, for some reason or another, but I don’t give a fuck. I haven’t done anything for them to dislike me, so that doesn’t matter. So I’m pretty comfortable with Andre Williams right now, whereas five years ago I wasn’t comfortable at all. Back then, it all seemed to be something that I had to do, and those things were often things that I shouldn’t have done. But this is where I am now, and I’m thankful. Like I've said before, I don’t qualify for Heaven, and Hell is already full… so I’m just stuck ! And that’s about the size of it…’
Not many people could end an interview with a quote like that and really make it stick. In Andre’s case, it rings true and solid. It was a real pleasure to meet and talk to the guy, and it was a buzz just like one of the best gigs. I went home feeling really good, and full of anticipation for the following nights’ show.
The gig takes place at The Blues Kitchen, an odd establishment that splits its’ duties between a restaurant and a venue. The problems soon become apparent ; it may have a reasonably large capacity, but as most of that space is dedicated to the diners (many of whom are clearly not there for the music) the area set aside for live music is small and, for a gig like this, uncomfor-tably packed. There’s a lot of jostling going on, which doesn’t bode too well, but support act King Salami manage to get the place shuffling with a decent set. But it’s Andre Williams that we’re here to see and even the long wait between bands doesn’t dampen the spirits.
Finally, after a short instrumental intro, the man appears, kicking off with ‘Agile Mobile Hostile’ and ‘Bad Motherfucker’ – surely the most serious statement of intent you’re ever likely to hear from a 76 year old ! From there on, the set just doesn’t let-up, classics like ‘Bacon Fat’ rubbing shoulders with ‘Pray For Your Daughter’ and ‘Pussystank’. We’re treated to a fine costume-change half way through the set (from stylish to styling, just like that !) and the encore finally gives us a magnificent version of ‘Jailbait’ before it’s time to run for the last train…
…which in my case, is a bit of a disaster. Even though I’ve got 30 minutes spare to cover a 20 minute tube journey, I end up stuck in a carriage between stations somewhere near Moorgate and, when I eventually reach Liverpool Street, I’m just in time to watch my last train disappearing down the tracks. So, quick decision time… there’s one more train that will only take me as far as Shenfield. Not ideal, still 20 miles short of home, but what the Hell ? I’ve been to a great gig and I’m feeling good. I’ll figure out something. Once at Shenfield, I decide to trek out to the A12… I sorta know the way and I ain’t afraid of the dark ! Takes about 40 minutes, then I decide to try and hitch… third car that passes me pulls up and offers me a lift as far as Chelmsford. The driver is a cabbie heading home after his last delivery and he’s so surprised to see anyone hitching that he’s happy to give me a lift ! Back in Chelmsford, another trek back out to the A12, and again, when I start to hitch, another cab pulls up. Not so generous this time, but he offers a lift back to Witham for a tenner, and then I’m home. Result ! Heed my words - if you trust in the power of rock’n’roll, you will always find a way !