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The call came mid-afternoon Saturday, Feb. 18. It was a call I fully expected yet not one I was truly ready for. Billy Cowsill was dead. The finality of those four words was devastating.
The Cowsill family band was the template for The Partridge Family. The band toured the world, sold millions of records, declared bankruptcy. Billy, the lead singer, was summarily kicked out of the band and the family for disagreeing with his father/manager. Billy began his musical odyssey travelling America from L.A. to New York, Texas and finally to Canada.
I first met Billy shortly after I began working for Larry Wanagas at Bumstead Productions in Vancouver. I had recently left CBS Records in search of a more rewarding career. I threw in with Bumstead, the small record label best known for releasing the first records by Colin James and k.d. lang. I knew of Billy's reputation as the former lead singer for the '60s pop band The Cowsills as well as his legendary local shows made up entirely of "the dead guys" music. The only criterion to be included in Billy's shows was you were dead. In the beginning Billy, who worked off and on with Wanagas, would drop by the office infrequently to record at Bumstead. Our exchanges usually were limited to bumming smokes and regaling each other with the genius of George Jones.
Between projects at Bumstead I asked Larry if he had any ideas for the next release? He dug around in his files and gave me a stack of Billy's tapes and said, "Listen to these and tell me what you think." I'd like to say I was blown away but that would be a lie. The music was damn fine but the majority of the material was cover songs and some of Billy's early solo compositions.
Synchronistically, at this point in time Jeffrey Hatcher moved to Vancouver from Winnipeg. Hatcher came by to see Larry about releasing a Jeffrey Hatcher & The Big Beat record. Wanagas and I listened to the material and couldn't quite see it as being viable at the time.
As luck would have it, Billy was gigging around Vancouver and was in need of a guitar player. Wanagas, wanting to help Jeff get set up in Vancouver, encouraged him to check out Billy live and see if he was interested in becoming his guitarist. The magic began immediately.
What followed were two commercially successful and critically acclaimed releases on Bumstead/Sony - 1993's On The Floor Of Heaven and 1995's Lucky To Me. The sound of The Blue Shadows was unlike anything anyone had heard. John Mackie at The Vancouver Sun best described the sound of the band as "Hank goes to the Cavern Club," alluding to the mixture of the stone cold country sound of Hank Williams mixed with the pop sensibilities of The Beatles. The critical acclaim was embarrassing at times; the commercial success was a direct result of our booking agent Ralph James, who arranged cross-Canada tours for the band in all the major cities. James also ensured the band appeared on a wide variety of shows with the likes of JJ Cale, The Barenaked Ladies, The Band, The Sweethearts of The Rodeo and The Rankin Family. When The Blue Shadows played Toronto you would be guaranteed a packed venue with a who's who of Canadian rock and country music, slack jawed at the harmonies and musical drive of the band.
I have a million memories of The Blue Shadows. If I had to limit it to one performance it would be a concert in 1994 in Los Angeles. The Blue Shadows appeared at the SXSW Music Conference in Austin, Texas that year. As was always the case, their reputation preceded them and a who's who of music attended. Upon our return to Vancouver I received a call from the organizers of a tribute to the Everly Brothers. The request was for Billy & Jeff to perform at a show honouring Don and Phil Everly. The cream of the crop of the L.A. roots rock scene were on hand. Dave Alvin, The Wondermints, Rank & File and a support cast that even included a performance by the two sons of Don and Phil. The only people directly associated with The Everlys who weren't in attendance were Don and Phil themselves as the two brothers were often at odds with each other. The organizers, given the egos involved, had informed all the performers they could only perform two songs. Billy and Jeff closed the show, in more ways than one. I have seen hundreds of standing ovations, but believe me, that particular night the hair stood up on my arms. I was backstage as the boys came off and Jeffrey looked at me wide-eyed and said, "Dave what just happened out there?" I put my arms around them and said, "Magic boys, magic. That's what happened out there tonight."
The Blue Shadows broke up shortly after the release of 1995's Lucky To Me. There were some bitter feelings between all of us. Jeffrey went back to school and Billy drifted back to Calgary. Thankfully, I made my peace with Billy a year or so back. On occasion we would talk. His health was failing. His bones were snapping due to advanced osteoporosis, he had a major back operation and they had to collapse one of his lungs to do the operation. Yet he continued making music right up to the very end.
The evening before I heard Billy had passed away, I was laying in bed trying to sleep and I kept hearing this clomp-clomp sound out in the house. I laid there for about an hour listening carefully, telling myself if I heard it again I would get up to see what the noise was. I wrote it off as a raccoon or the cat, or the wind. When the call came the next day that Billy had passed away I knew the sound the night before was the soul of my friend coming to say goodbye. Cowboy boots "On The Floor of Heaven" make a distinctive sound. Billy Cowsill was a good soldier.
God Bless you Cowboy and thanks for all the great music.
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