If I could share your company: A conversation with Willis Alan Ramsey
Willis Alan Ramsey will play Asheville Jan. 25.
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In truth, there are two camps when it comes to Texas singer-songwriter Willis Alan Ramsey: you’re either completely obsessed with his music, with his tunes becoming a pillar of the soundtrack of your life, or you’ve never heard of him.
Yeah, it’s that simple. And yet, the man himself is as complex and mysterious as ever, even as he approaches his 75th birthday in March. For me, as a longtime journalist and lifelong music freak, Ramsey, in my honest opinion, is one of America’s great songwriters, with the utterly beautiful thing being that he’s just as captivating and inspiring in conversation as his melodies remain.
At just 20 years old, Ramsey signed with Leon Russell’s Shelter Records. He flew out to Los Angeles and recorded his self-titled 1972 album, which went on to become one of the most highly-acclaimed releases of its time, and is now regarded as a “Holy Grail” of the Americana, country, and folk realms. To that, Ramsey never put out another album, even if, some 54 years later, he still tours the country and still plays all those songs we hold so close.
Talking to The Smoky Mountain News over the phone from his home in Colorado, Ramsey spoke at length about the legend and lore surrounding his music, what it was like to spend time with Russell and J.J. Cale, and why that follow-up album isn’t as far off from completion as one might think.
Smoky Mountain News: What’s touring like for you these days?
Willis Alan Ramsey: It’s just one of the best aspects of being able to do what I do. I got really lucky when I was a kid at 20 years old and signed a recording contract with Leon Russell and Denny Cordell for a little indie label [Shelter Records]. They were just starting up. I was the third act signed, the first one being Leon, and the second one being his good friend, John Cale, who they changed his name to J.J. [Cale].
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Part of the deal was that they let me live at Leon’s, [which was also a] recording studio on the bottom floor. Another part of the deal was he would teach me how to run all this pro audio equipment, which was the same equipment that they had in all the best studios out there. So, I got really lucky to get that kind of deal when I hadn’t even turned 21. And I finished that one record, and that was the only record deal I’ve ever been able to get for one reason or another.
SMN: Were you based in the Los Angeles or Tulsa when you were working with Leon?
WAR: I lived in Leon’s house, so I was based in [Los Angeles]. He had the studio up [in the Hollywood Hills] overlooking the valley. People were always dropping by. I opened the door one day and George Harrison and Phil Spector were at the door. I’d been warned by the office that there might be some guests dropping in, but they didn’t tell me who. [Laughs].
SMN: How did you get involved with Leon?
WAR: Well, I went to this concert [in Austin, Texas, in 1970]. The Allman Brothers were the second band to play, Leon was the third. I had just started playing on what they had called the “National Coffee House Circuit.” Back then, all these singer-songwriters were going around [playing] colleges and universities. So, I was on it with people like Townes Van Zandt, Keith Sykes and Don Sanders. I’d just gotten back from playing some dates out west, and I was in Austin, anyway. And there was a show going on [in Austin].
So, I went there and the Allmans just blew my mind. They were so good. And I never heard of Leon, either. It’s funny, the two bands that I hadn’t heard of were the two best bands that day. So, I knocked on [the Allmans backstage] door first and auditioned for Gregg [Allman], and he gave me [his] card, and I went out there to visit with him in Macon, [Georgia], and we made a demo tape.
[At the Austin show], I saw [Leon] the next day; [he was] at the Allman Brothers motel the night before. I caught up with Leon. He was just walking out the door and about to catch a plane. He said. “Come on back in the room,” pointing to my guitar and said, “Break it out.” I played an audition for him live.
I waited a few more months before I got in touch with Leon, and went out [to Los Angeles] in the spring of 1971. And since I didn’t know who [he and Denny] were — even though Denny had produced a “A Whiter Shade of Pale” for Procol Harum and some hit tracks for Joe Cocker — I wasn’t intimidated. I played a great audition, and Leon said, “Let’s go up to my studio.”
I was probably too young to record at that point, but everything sort of aligned and fell in place. I knew these opportunities don’t come along every day.
SMN: How often are you still writing? I would surmise that the creative itch doesn’t ever leave you.
WAR: Well, there have been periods when I’ve been writing more than others. I’m always writing, working on one thing or another. Writing is rewriting, and I’ve always done that.
SMN: Are you sitting on a lot of material?
WAR: Oh, yeah. But, a lot of it is incomplete. It’s sitting in drawers, in various places. And every once in a while, I’ll pull out something and dust it off. One of my songs, “Mockingbird Blues,” took 35 years to write or something like that to finish. I remember starting it in 1970.
And when I do a show, I like to mix in the stuff that people hadn’t heard on that record with the older stuff that they have. And generally, the feedback I get is that they feel like it’s similar [to the first album]. [But], they’re different — every song is kind of different.
I’ve never liked vanity records, people that just put out a record so they can have a record out. And so, I’m not going to put out something that I don’t feel is [great]. Basically, I want to knock it out of the park if I can put out more records.
SMN: What’s your mindset coming into 75 — looking back, but also, more so, looking forward?
WAR: I feel like I’ve got my wits about me pretty much. [Laughs]. You don’t appreciate knowledge when you’re younger as much as you do when you get older. So, I think I’m coming at the things that I do with a lot of perspective and things that I’ve learned over the years, and you never learn anything unless you make a bunch of mistakes, which I’ve certainly done. But, it’s all good right now.
SMN: What does it mean to be a Texas songwriter?
WAR: Well, Texas is a treasure. In terms of music, they’re right at the crossroads of all kinds of stylistic things in music. A lot of people came from Texas that you [wouldn’t really think] of, like Barry White. [Then, you have] George Jones, Janis Joplin, Johnny Winter, Bob Wills and Ray Charles spent a lot of time in Texas. It’s a real treasure trove for music. And they love music. It’s a part of their tradition. Not only that, Texans are sort of cussedly independent — they’re not going let anybody tell ‘em what to think or to write.
Want to go?
Legendary singer-songwriter Willis Alan Ramsey will hit the stage at 8 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 25, at The Grey Eagle in Asheville.
This is a seated performance. The show is all ages. Doors open at 7 p.m. Tickets start at $30.25 per person (tax included), with premium seats available.
For more information and/or to purchase tickets, visit thegreyeagle.com.
