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Bill Dees
Saturday Night at the Movies
Wire Road Records
By David Pilot
Part of the magical musical mystery
tour that comes with being a Rockzillaworld writer is
being surprised by the symmetry that life can spring on a moment's
notice. For example, a few months back now (I've been slacking)
I'd spent a warm friendly Texas afternoon immersed in David Lee
Roth vocals and worshipping at the Edward Van Halen "Cathedral"
with the old Diver Down album cranked up to ten. Roth's
animated if at times annoying take on "Oh, Pretty Woman"
got me to hankering for Roy Orbison, and off on a tangent I went,
thinking I'd just go dive into the original stuff and drift away.
The next week or so I spent a lot of quality time with Roy
and my old good-time buddy Dobie Grey, and didn't pay much attention
to the stack of discs I'd gotten from Rockzilla the evening after
my Van Halen afternoon. When I did finally get back home and
get into my latest to-do list, a disc near the bottom of the
pile caught my eye and seemed familiar. The name was Bill Dees
and somewhere in the nether regions of my addled brain I heard
a faint ring of familiarity, but for the life of me I couldn't
put a handle on it so I moved on to other efforts. When I finally
got around to digging the record out and cracking it open, I
realized what a dope I'd been. That hankering for the original
stuff? An itch that could've been scratched that evening back
in Texas. Scratched for the last time, really, since Bill Dees
wrote "Oh Pretty Woman." No kidding. Okay, co-wrote
with Orbison. The point remains.
I felt a little less stupid when a web search didn't turn
up a plethora of monster records and subsequent smash hits I'd
blatantly missed through the years. There were other hits, to
be sure, and most followed the same formula: co-writes with
Orbison that old Roy took to the big stage while Bill stayed
home and did some composing and arranging and occasional performing
of his own on a small, intimate scale that better fit his own
goals and persona. How small a scale? Even Dale Wiley, who
founded Slewfoot Records back in 2000, didn't know who Dees was
when he walked into Wiley's office in 1999 and introduced himself.
But a few hours later Saturday Night at the Movies was
in the works and, according to Wiley in the album's liner notes,
there exists a treasure trove of original Bill Dees songs as
yet unheard by the world at large but coming our way in the near
future. The effort we're discussing here was released on Wire
Road Records, a subsidiary of Slewfoot, and hasn't made the same
splash official Slewfoot artists have over the last few years
(see The Domino Kings, Duane Jarvis, Hadacol, The Star Room Boys,
and NC favorites Porter Hall, TN for starters) A listen to
this record, though, shows that any lack of widespread Dees acclaim
just proves there's no accounting for the whims of the music
business, even in the allegedly soul-saving genre of Americana.
Nine of the eleven songs here were co-written with Roy Orbison,
the products of a friendship between Dees and the sunglasses-wearing
legend that goes all the way back to Amarillo, Texas and a small
local band called The Five Bops. That band was Bill's; their
music hit Roy's ears and a long fruitful friendship and partnership
were born. The sound on most of this record is what you and
I think of as pure Orbison. Realizing decades later that Dees'
pen was there as well changes the focus a bit, I suppose. And
amazingly enough, Dees showcases here a voice big enough and
yearning enough to have given Orbison a run for his money. The
mastery of phrasing and complete control of timbre, volume, and
focus is dead equal with that of the more famous artist in this
discussion. While Orbison's unique delivery would ultimately
win a contest, the margin of victory would be small enough to
demand a recount in any state other than Florida.
If this is Bill's late-life coming out party, it's both odd
and cunning that the set list relies so heavily on songs co-written
with Roy. The familiarity factor is immense, naturally, and
could have come off as a half-hearted attempt at attaching a
hanger-on's dreams to the wagon of greatness -- if Dees didn't
have the chops to legitimately pull it off. But he does, starting
with "Ride Away" and "Borne On the Wind,"
a couple of songs it's easy to imagine hearing any classic-rock
DJ announce as an Orbison two-fer during an afternoon commute.
The latter does a particularly good job of demonstrating the
vocal similarities between the two men, and establishes with
clarity the fact that Dees could've been a star if he'd wanted.
Things get interesting, though, with "Sleepy Hollow,"
the first of two Dees originals on Saturday Night. Driven
by a lovely, rippling piano that evokes the best of the '50s
and '60s pop ballads, the song dances slowly through familiar
territory of love and loss and wistful yearning. If Dees had
been named Bobby Bare, say, or maybe Bobby Vee, this would've
been atop the chart for months. This track leaves no doubt that
Dees is his own songwriter, and that the chemistry he shared
with Orbison was a boon rather than a shackle and chain
just one more facet of a marvelously colorful prism. "Windsurfer,"
on the other hand, goes back into an Orbison-fronts-the-Beach-Boys
vein, painting a clear and strikingly beautiful picture of crystal
beaches and endless summer afternoons. "Goodnight"
is pure Orbison, while "Saturday Night at the Movies"
is pure Dees (no, it's not the Drifters' hit of the same name).
It's when rock 'n roll was young, hell, maybe even when we were
all still young, and the world was an adventure waiting to happen
every Saturday night. Young love, young life, terrific song.
At sixty years of age, Bill Dees misses those days as much as
we do, and it's evident here.
"Crawling Back" is as pure a ballad as there's ever
been, and it's here once again that the legitimate comparisons
between Dees and Orbison in terms of vocal range, control, and
power come into play. Simply an astonishing song, a beautiful
track that'll be playing in my head long after this piece is
done and other records hold my focus. The progression here from
shuffling lower registers on up into the tenor choruses is masterful,
and never once does Dees have to cheat and go into falsetto.
Amazing.
"Just Another Word for Rock and Roll" is the other
original track on display, and succeeds by mixing rock and blues
into a smoking alchemistic end product that easily provides the
most original and singular-sounding listen on the record.
The stunners, though, are the Orbison smash hits "It's
Over" and the aforementioned "Oh, Pretty Woman."
Lush arrangements and beautiful backing harmonies provide familiar
backdrops for a take so utterly different on two familiar-to-the-point-of-ubiquitous
songs that only their author could have been involved. If there'd
never been a Roy Orbison, these two would've still been hits.
Dees is that good, that in control, that masterful.
The downside to Saturday Night at the Movies is obvious
by now, I suppose. Who wants their career defined by the phrase
"sounds like Roy Orbison"? (Well, OK, besides Raul
Malo?) The thing to understand here is that Bill Dees doesn't
sound like Roy, he sounds comparable to him. In every conceivable
way. The voice is unique, still smooth after all these years,
and capable of every manner of the vocal gymnastics one would
need to play in Orbison territory.
So why is Dees just now doing something with all this talent?
I don't know. Maybe he's just been busy with other things.
One thing's clear after a visit to his website, www.billdees.com,
the man's got a faith that's deep and abiding and wants with
every fiber of his being to make a difference in the lives we
live. Saturday Night at the Movies makes it abundantly
clear he's got the gift to do just that. Quadruple bypass surgery
last September makes the time he's got left to do it a question
mark. Get yourself a copy of this record and make sure you don't
miss the window of opportunity. And watch closely for whatever's
coming next. The man is a master.
Contact David Pilot at: tailgunner-at-rockzilla.net
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