by Norman Davis
Bill Rhoades is a genuine bluesman. The harmonica-player/singer/composer/promoter/band leader/blues society founder/DJ, etc., has devoted most of his life to the blues. "He's like the last of the real McCoys," says Jimmy Lloyd Rea of the Switchmasters, a band Bill played in for almost four years. "Most guys (who play harp) get off into some different things now and then, but he just plays the blues."
Bill's interest in the blues started when he was a youngster growing up in Eugene. He listened to the radio like most kids and was fond of groups like the Crystals, the Orlons and the Everly Brothers when the British Invasion came along in the sixties. "When the Beatles broke," he remembers, "a whole other world opened up for me. But the funny thing was, the groups I kept gravitating toward were the ones playing the blues. I was listening to the Animals, the Yardbirds, the Stones, and I got interested in who wrote the songs they were playing.
I remember hearing "I'm A Man" by the Yardbirds and sayin' Elias McDaniel--who is that?' So I did a little research and that led me to Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Sonnyboy, Little Walter--the whole Chicago scene."
"After I'd heard Keith Relf, and Paul Jones, and Manfred Mann, and Brian Jones playin' harp with the Stones, I wanted to play harp. My brother had bought a whole set of harps but he didn't play em--he just put em in a drawer, so little by little I borrowed' them. I guess the first record I learned to play anything off of was Sonnyboy Williamson and the Yardbirds.
Bill never had any music teachers. He taught himself how to play, with a little help from friends who were also into music. He never even thought about playing professionally, but he and his friends got together for jam sessions in a big barn out in the country where they could play as loud as they wanted.
One day, an acquaintance came out to listen and asked them if they'd like to play at a party. "We'll give you a hundred dollars," he said. "We said, What? Money?!!' Bill recalls. This led to numberous gigs at keg parties and house parties over the years.
The first band was called the Rhythm Kings with twins Rich and Rod Kesey (Ken Kesey's cousins) on bass and guitar, and Dave Olson who later played with Robert Cray and is currently with Savoy Brown. The Rhythm Kings played clubs around Eugene--The Roman Forum, The Back Door, Murphy & Me and others.
What really opened the door for the Rhythm Kings was backing up visiting blues artists. "The greatest one was Albert Collins," Bill says. "He'd come to town without a band and just hire somebody to back him up. He was such a super nice guy." Bill also backed up Louisiana Red, who he remembers was "really ornery" and doused himself with "just about a whole bottle of Brut aftershave. That ride back (from his hotel) in my truck was pretty awful," Bill grimaces. Red borrowed one of Bill's harps at the gig and Bill swears it still smells like Brut. The band also backed up Buckwheat Zydeco, Big Daddy Kinsey, Michael Bloomfield, who "forgot" to pay the band, and blues legend Jimmy Rogers. "Backing up Jimmy Rogers was a lifetime dream," Bill says excitedly. "I mean I could quit now and be happy, cause I got to play with Jimmy Rogers."
Eugene was a hot blues spot then. "Sometimes on a weekend, you could go out and see four or five different bands," Bill says. "And the University of Oregon was bringing in great country-blues artists like Bukka White, Son House, Big Joe Williams and Mance Lipscomb." The Eugene Blues Festival featured Albert Collins, Luther Tucker, Jimmy McCracklin, George "Harmonica" Smith, and young Westcoast hotshots like Rod Piazza and Paul deLay.
The best show Bill ever saw was put on by Clifton Chenier and his Red Hot Louisiana Band at the University. "My brother had some of his records," Bill remembers, "and I thought ahmmmm--accordian, washboard ? . . . but it was a free show, so I thought I'd go check it out and I ended up just being frozen to one spot for about an hour. My God! I've never seen anything like it. He went from tune to tune and every one of them was great. And he had such a great band. I was never the same after that."
Bill's band changed names and personnel over the years. After the Rhythm Kings he put together a group called Hothouse. Then he began producing blues shows at Taylors under the heading, "Bill Rhoades' Blues Party," hiring different musicians every weekend. When the Party finally broke up, he took the best of them and created the Party Kings, playing up and down the Willamette Valley for a number of years.
Rhoades also co-founded the Oregon Blues Society, served as its first President, and produced numerous local blues events.
But the Eugene blues scene faded for one reason or another. Clubs shut down or switched to disco. Festivals became unprofitable. And most of the blues players gradually moved away. The Party Kings decided to break up. There was a lack of decent gigs and Bill was tired of wearing the performer's, band leader's, booking agent's, family provider's and a few other hats at the same time. He decided to move to Portland because of all the local interest in blues.
Picking up where he left off in Eugene, Bill became a co-founder of the CBA and began producing various blues events around the city. He landed a radio show on KBOO after putting in some volunteer hours and subbing for Tom Wendt on the Blue Zone. Ten years later, his show, Blue Monday, still airs the blues at 11 a.m. every Monday morning.
At a jam session one night at the River City Saloon, he met Jimmy Lloyd Rea and Vince Hozier of the Switchmasters. "It just kinda clicked," he says. The Switchmasters felt the same way and invited Bill to play with the band as often as possible. It turned into a nearly-four-year gig that included one album, Roadhouse Blues, recorded in 1993. "We recorded that in one day, " he remembers. "A couple of those songs I'd never even played on before, but that's how Jimmy likes to do it. And we never rehearsed. Never!"
Bill had a lot of fun with the Switchmasters, but he eventually got the itch to "go back and do my own thing." One of the reasons was the Switchmasters' propensity for playing "cripplingly loud." "It was just too loud for me," he allows. "I kept getting a bigger amp and a bigger amp and pretty soon there wasn't any bigger amp and I still couldn't hear myself. I don't know if my hearing is what it used to be."
He called up Jim Cochran, Johnny Moore, A.C. Porter and Dave Kahl, and the Party Kings were born. Right out of the gate, it was a hot band, garnering a Muddy Award for best new Northwest group before it celebrated its first birthday. Bill's new Muddy went on the mantle with his previous CBA awards for best harmonica (2), best Northwest band (with the Switchmasters)(2), best Northwest recording, distinguished service, and the prestigious "Back What You Believe In" award.
As you might expect, Bill is always willing to talk at length about blues and especially his favorite harmonica players. "I really like both Sonnyboys," he says. "I don't think the first Sonnyboy gets enough credit, but the stuff he did with Big Joe Williams blew my mind. It wrote the book for what we hear now. I like Snooky Pryor. He's a simple player, but he means every note he plays. Of course Little Walter is still--he's scary, you know. I listen to him and say, back to the drawing board.'
Bill likes the old players too--Deford Bailey and Sammy Myers in particular. Of the new generation, he especially likes William Clarke. "I've been listening to him a lot lately," he says. "It'll make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He's fantastic--a great harmonica player. And you can't beat Kim Wilson and Rod Piazza. Then you have Paul deLay. He'll make you go decide to play another instrument after you hear him."
This month, Bill is checking out recording studios, getting ready to put an album together with the Party Kings. He's been talking with legendary producer, Tom Anderson (Van Morrison, Joe Louis Walker, John Lee Hooker, Allman Brothers, Rolling Stones, etc.) who recently moved to Salem. He's also busy planning another harmonica blowoff in February. "I think we'll call it the Harmonica Summit," he enthuses. Last year's blowoff, a highlight of Waterfront Blues Festival week, is still getting raves, and there'll be another one this summer.
Like many other locals, Bill would like to hear more blues on the radio. "When you have a blues society of more than a thousand members," he says, "and a blues festival that attracts 100,000 or so, why isn't there a radio station that features blues or roots music 24 hours a day? I don't have the money to start one, but it seems funny to me that there's all this interest and it's not happening."
Bill continues to try to create interest in the blues wherever he goes. He takes his self-directed mission seriously. "I want to expose people to what turned me onto the blues," he says. On the radio and on stage, he preaches blues gospel. "I'll never quit now," he admits. "I've been doing it for so long--if you don't play, you go crazy. I'm just gonna do what I do and have fun with it." He is grateful to those who support the blues and says, "Keep doin' it! It's a music that shouldn't die. It's too great. It's people music--real life music. It comes from the heart."
© 1999 Cascade Blues Association