(July 22 1999)

A Rolling Stone Finds His Rhythm

By Daniel Durchholz

Just because he's no longer a Rolling Stone doesn't mean Bill Wyman is sitting around gathering moss. Since leaving the band in 1991, Wyman has kept active in his personal and professional life, remarrying and having a family (three daughters: ages four, three, and nine months), running his successful chain of Sticky Fingers restaurants and turning out books, including Stone Alone, a memoir of his many years with the band, and Chagall's World, a limited-edition volume of Wyman's photographs of famed artist Marc Chagall.

Oh, and there's music, too. Wyman was the first of the Stones to go solo, releasing three albums in the '70s and '80s: Monkey Grip, Stone Alone and Bill Wyman. He also formed the roots/blues supergroup Willie & the Poorboys with Jimmy Page, Ron Wood, Charlie Watts and others. Together, the group released a pair of albums, their self-titled debut and Tear It Up.

But Wyman's most recent passion has been the Rhythm Kings, a loose affiliation of musicians who share his love for music of varying vintages, from vaudeville days, Tin Pan Alley, and the swing era up through the early days of rock & roll. The group includes players such as keyboardist Georgie Fame, guitarist Albert Lee and newcomer Beverley Skeete on vocals, but there's plenty of room for the likes of Peter Frampton, Chris Rea and Eric Clapton to sit in.

The Rhythm Kings' albums include 1998's Struttin' Our Stuff and the band's latest, Anyway the Wind Blows. Currently Wyman is working on three books (one of which is a history of his 15th century Suffolk manor), researching and writing a history of the blues for television, readying a third Rhythm Kings record, and changing nappies on his youngest girl. Who says rock &roll is all about glamour?

CDNOW: You were the first member of the Rolling Stones to do a solo album.

How was that received within the band?

Bill Wyman: Badly. Because it interfered, and certain members of the band always thought that anything outside the band interfered with the band. There was always a bit of animosity when you did things outside, and that applied when Mick did solo albums or his movies and he got a bit of flack. And then of course, Keith did his album, and people weren't happy about that.

But by the time they did their solo albums, you had already done three of them.

Yeah, but I always had other interests. Being a musician, I had musical ideas that I couldn't achieve within the band because I wasn't writing any of the songs. They were doing a great job there, they didn't need me to write songs.

But I still had songs coming out of my head, and I needed to get them somewhere. So instead of sitting and moping and being moody and getting upset about it and having tantrums, I just got on with doing it in a different way. I produced bands, and then I started to do solo albums in the '70s, playing with a variety of great people that I admired, like Leon Russell, Joe Walsh, the Pointer Sisters and Dr. John.

The only trouble was, I had to do it in bits and pieces over a period of time. It didn't quite jell, and some stuff was great and some stuff I thought was awful, but it was too late. I didn't have any budget left. So there was always a frustration at never being able to complete a project in my own time space. Which I don't have a problem with now, obviously. So the music sounds much better.

The Stones are out on tour right now, and they're just having money rained down on them. How hard is it to look at that and know you could've had a piece of it?

Of course, there's a temptation of thinking that, but I don't think it. I've

managed my money well. I take care of investments and I'm comfortable

without being affluent. If I'm careful, I'll be all right.

"I don't see the point of being in a band just to pick up massive money when

you're repeating what you've done before and there's nothing left to aim for

because you've done it all."

I don't see the point of being in a band just to pick up massive money when

you're repeating what you've done before and there's nothing left to aim for

because you've done it all. I don't see the reason and that's why I left,

really.

I'm tired of touring, and I wanted to get my private life settled once and

for all. I'd gone through a horrendous sort of mess-up in my life a few

years before that, and I got married and I've got three beautiful daughters

now, and this is another life. It's a complete new thing. All the garbage

has been thrown away, all the weight and the pressures. I'm living a new

life now. It's very enjoyable.

Keith said in some interviews that the only way a member of the Stones

should leave the band is in a coffin. Did he actually say that to you?

No. But he did send me a few nasty faxes. [Laughs]

Between the time you left the Stones and did the first Rhythm Kings record,

did you think you were going to pack it in and never record again, or did

you always know you'd do another project?

I just wanted to get away from music for a while and focus in on some other

things I wanted to do. I was working on three books at the time, I wanted to

get my restaurants working well, which they have been since, and I wanted to

get my private life in order. So I sorted out a lot of areas in my life, and

then I was comfortable. Then music came creeping back.

But I didn't want to do what I'd done before. I didn't want to do solo

albums or try to write tongue-in-cheek pop songs. I didn't want to have a

record company on my neck saying this has got to be finished by October the

10th, with pressures and budgets. I just went in with my own money and

started to cut tracks. I didn't even worry about styles or anything; I just

cut anything I wanted to do.

Why not? I've got a great record collection; I love music, from vaudeville

through ragtime through early country and the beginnings of country blues in

the '20s, right through to the modern day. So I thought, "Yeah, I'll do a

Fats Waller song or a Billie Holiday song, and a Papa Charlie Jackson song

from the '20s. Or a Creedence Clearwater Revival song, a Ray Charles song or

a Louis Jordan." Anything I fancied. And that was a revelation to me, to be

able to go in and cut anything I wanted. I don't think many people have that

opportunity. They're still thinking of charting and all that.

How did you put the band together?

I just used all the people around me that I knew would be compatible with

doing that kind of stuff. I've got Georgie Fame coming in from the jazz and

R&B side; I've got Gary Brooker, who knows New Orleans music and early rock

-- Little Richard and all that -- inside and out. I've got Albert Lee, who

knows the country stuff, the beginnings of rockabilly and early rock. I've

got Martin Taylor, who knows all the Jango Reinhardt stuff, all the jazzy

Charlie Christian stuff. So there was always someplace to start from, it

wasn't like starting fresh.

The only problem I had starting fresh was with Beverly Skeete, the singer,

who'd never done anything except for club stuff and dance and hip-hop as a

backup singer.

She'd never done any traditional music at all. So I had to kind of educate

her a bit. And the piano player, Dave Hartley, who is a stunning piano

player; he can play me Errol Garner, but he'd never heard of Mose Allison,

for instance. But basically, it was picking the people I thought would be

compatible with certain songs.

Your name gets top billing on the record, but it doesn't seem like this is

an ego trip. You don't even sing on the new record.

On the first album, they wanted to call it Bill Wyman and the Rhythm Kings,

but I said no, let's call it Rhythm Kings. But then there were problems with

racking it, which I never thought about. What do we rack it in, Bill Wyman,

Rolling Stones, Rhythm Kings? People wouldn't be able to find it in record

stores. So this time I knew my name had to be on there.

"I can use lyrics like 'You're my coffee and I like your cream,' and it

works. I would never have written that in a rock situation at all."

While it's true that I'm overseeing the whole project -- the arranging and

producing, and writing a lot of the songs and choosing the material and

choosing the artists, I still like to be in the background when it comes to

facing the public. When we go onstage, I don't want to be out there singing,

so I didn't sing on this second album. It's not my forte to be out front on

a microphone or to sing and play bass, which I've never done in my life.

You seem to have a real first-take mentality on this album. Is feel more

important to you than perfection?

Absolutely. We do three takes maximum. I've got great players on there who

play their bums off when they get going, we almost always get it on take one

or take two. If we don't get it in three takes, we throw it out a window and

move on to the next song.

Even if you do a lot of takes, you usually end up using the earlier ones,

when you're excited about the songs and you're enthusiastic about playing it

and you're enjoying it. They're the ones where the magic comes, I think.

That's why we cut them in very limited amounts of time.

The song "When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan" actually fits in well with the

swing movement that's happening now.

Yes, people keep telling me that. That was a bit of a coincidence, really,

because I knew nothing about all that. It's nice to know that it's

happening, though. I've had lots of interviews in the past few weeks, and

that's been pointed out to me on a number of occasions.

You might have a single off this record in spite of yourself.

I'd never thought of that. That means we have to do a video, though, sonoooo

...

Your own songs sound very much of a piece with the vintage material you do.

How does that happen?

What I do is, instead of sitting down like I used to and say, "I'm going to

write a song," I just sit and think, "Okay, I'm gonna try and write a song,

and I'm gonna write a song that sounds like a '40s jazzy blues song." So I

think about the '40s, and the people, and the kinds of things they did, the

chord structures they used, the way they went from choruses into verses, the

way they used their voice -- they sing them different than they do now -- I

take all that on board. Then I think about the slang they used in those

days, "Keep on truckin'," "struttin' stuff" and all this, and I kind of did

it in that way.

Then when we recorded it, we recorded it together with two or three songs of

that period. The drummer's playing with brushes, I'm playing an upright

sound on the bass, the rhythm guitarist is playing block chords like they

did, Charlie Christian and Al Casey, like that. It comes out sounding like

one of the other songs. You're doing it in the same way. And if you've

written it right, and you haven't used modern lyrics; you've used lyrics

like "you really bring my airplane down" or "warm my wiener" or something

[laughs)], it sounds authentic. It's been a great compliment to me when

people come round to me and say "who did the original of 'Motorvatin' Mama'"

and I can say, "It's an original, it's one we did."

You seem to have a real affinity for that earlier period in popular music.

Yeah. For some reason, it's so much easier for me to do songs like this of a

traditional style than it ever was for me to write pop songs, which used to

take me weeks and weeks, trying to think of a couple of lines at the end of

a verse. Now, I can just reel it off, and it just flows.

The other night I just got a melody line ready and I wrote the lyrics in

like 15 minutes. I could never do that in the past when I was trying to

write rock songs. I can use lyrics like 'You're my coffee and I like your

cream,' and it works. I would never have written that in a rock situation at

all. Maybe I should have done this in the first place. Maybe I should have

always done this. Maybe I was born in those times, or had a previous life

then, I dunno. But I have a very close affinity to that music. I really do.

I get a very strong nostalgia feel every time I hear something from the '20s

or '30s. You know, like when you remember a smell when you were a kid or a

field that you walked through. It's that kind of thing ... when I hear

something from the '20s or '30s, it's like I've heard it before, and I was

there and I really liked it. And those are the songs I tend to cover.

You've got so many things going with the albums and the books, and the kids.

Do you have any plans to retire completely someday?

Oh no, there's no reason to do that unless you don't have anything to do.

You know, gone are the days when people used to save up for their retirement

and then go on a world cruise. People don't do that anymore. Besides, I've

done all the world cruises, even if I did them in the wrong way. I'm quite

happy to be home again.

(October 8 1997)

Rhythm Kings - Struttin' Our Stuff:

Green River

Walking On My Own

Melody

Stuff

Bad To Be Alone

I'm Mad

Down In The Bottom

Mottorvatin' Mama

Jitterbug Boogie

Going Crazy Overnight

Hole In My Soul

Tobacco Road

(October 2 1997)

Sixty-year-old former Rolling Stone Bill Wyman and his wife are expecting their third child.

"It's nice to know I am not shooting blanks yet! I'm quite proud that I'm still knocking them out", Bill told Hello! magazine. He and wife Suzanne, 38, already have two daughters,

Katie, 3 and Jessie, 2 and Wyman confided that he would like another son.

(September 29 1997)

Because the tickets for Bill Wyman's Rhytm Kings show at the Paradiso, Amsterdam on October 13 sold out very quickly, there will be a second show on the same night. This show

will start at 00:45 CET, so actually it is on October 14.

(September 24 1997)

Bill Wyman's new band are playing in London at The Forum on 15 October. Apart from Bill the line-up is said to include Albert Lee, Gary Brooker, Georgie Fame, Peter Frampton,

Terry Taylor and Graham Bond.

This is a small venue in North London & the concert is supposed to tie in with a new album due in October.

(September 7 1997)

Bill Wyman is working on a double CD (which he fears will turn out to be two single CDs) of music from the 30s/40s and 50s/60s. He is playing with Georgie Fame, Terry Taylor,

Graham Broad, Dave Hartley. Guests include Albert Lee, Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Mick Taylor, Gary Brooker, Andy Fairweather-Low, Paul Carrack and Beverly Skeete.

He is also working on four books: The second part of Stone Alone, a book about Marc Chagall, a book about the history of his house and a guide for hobby archaeologists.