Andre Williams: A True Rock n’ Roll Character

A correlation could be made between the 1960’s music of Bob Dylan and Andre Williams’ 1950s output in that they both created tunes with verses and voices that were so far out of left field that they sounded right.  But while Dylan was sing-talking, Andre began earning the title of the “Godfather of Rap” by simply talking.  The man knew his vocal limitations.

“At that time, you really had to be able to sing to be a star, but I saw that maybe I could make a mixture of Cab Calloway and Johnny Cash. I always liked his persona. He didn’t have to work at it. All the other entertainers had to work at what they were doing, but Cash could just sit down and mesmerize you. He could just capture you with his character and the way he said it. So I tried to put that together with my talking.  Cash and Calloway were so much alike because neither one of them was a great singer, but they were fantastic storytellers. They could paint that picture. So I decided I wanted to dress like Calloway, but I was going to present myself like Cash.  I was not a Clyde McPhatter (the Drifters) or a Nolan Strong (the Diablos). I had to come up with a gimmick.  If I could get a drum rhythm that captivates people and put a hell of a story on top of it, I can’t lose.”

He won over audiences with “Bacon Fat,” a slow grinding dance tune that Patti Smith and her guitarist, Lenny Kaye, would repeatedly listen to while Lenny worked at Bleecker Bob’s record store in Greenwich Village, and which was later covered by the Cramps, the Sir Douglas Quintet, Zappa (with revised lyrics), and Taj Mahal.

Andre’s “Jailbait,” a Dylan favorite that appeared on his Theme Time Radio Show, has Williams warning what will happen to lecherous louts if they can’t get young girls out of their minds:

“It’s a rough temptation,
But a common invitation,
And a good association,
But a quick elimination.
That will take you out of circulation.”

Andre would spend many a day creating songs about procreating, admitting: “Something about me that brings sex to the menu.”  The Cramps’ Lux Interior confirmed: “Andre Williams makes Little Richard sound like Pat Boone.”

Before he co-wrote one cool instrumental song, “Twine Time” for Alvin Cash, Andre was instrumental in putting Motown Records and Stevie Wonder in the public’s ears—and it all started thanks to a Detroit barber, who informed Andre: “’There’s a guy here who works at Ford and I want you to listen to this boy [Motown founder Berry Gordy] because he’s got some songs.’ So I met him and went over to Berry’s house and listened to the song, which was Marv Johnson’s ‘Come to Me.’ I was on United Artists at that time, so I spoke to their A&R director and said, ‘There’s a guy here in Detroit who has some songs and a new artist that I wish you would listen to.’ He says, ‘Tell the guy to send me the songs and a picture of the singer.’ Berry sent him the picture and a tape of ‘Come to Me’ and that turned out to be his first big record. That’s what started things for Berry and also how me and Berry got together. Everyone knows I’ve been hired and fired outta Motown about twenty times.”

In between his on-again, off-again Motown years, Andre co-wrote and produced “Thank You (For Loving Me All The Way),” Stevie Wonder’s first Motown song.  Andre then co-wrote the euphemism-filled “Shake a Tail Feather” for the Du-Tones in 1963, a hit song that Gordy unwisely turned down. The ditty has turned up in films like Hairspray and The Blues Brothers, where Ray Charles warbled about wanting to see a dancer bend over so he can see a tail feather shake. The slightly lascivious song was Andre’s favorite because: “It was sneaky. I beat the system.”

He later ran Mercury Records’ black music imprint Blue Thumb, where he produced Sir Mack Rice’s original recording of “Mustang Sally” in 1965, a year before Wilson Pickett’s much better-selling version.  But the times were changing, and so were Andre’s chart successes.  He realized: “The music was changing. My time passed. By the early ’60s, I was in a tailspin. No hits. No crowds. I was forgotten.”

But Ike and Tina Turner remembered Andre and covered “Shake a Tail Feather” in 1968. Ike hired him to co-produce the couple’s 1972 album Let Me Touch Your Mind. Unfortunately, Andre’s nasal cavities touched too much white powder. Andre recalled his wasted days and wasted nights with Mr. Turner in LA: “You know how your mother would have little porcelain elephants on the kitchen shelves, like salt and pepper shakers? Well, every single one of these in Ike’s house was full of coke! You could either point the neck down or move a leg and shake a gram out of it! When I went to work with Ike, I was weighing 185 pounds. At the end, I was 85 pounds!”

Andre’s seemingly endless downward spiral resulted in him panhandling on Chicago streets as well as short stints in jail and rehab. In the ‘90’s, he was found in a homeless shelter by Billy Miller and Mirian Linna, the co-founders of Norton Records, who put him back on his feet again in studios and later in small clubs.

In the fascinating 2007 documentary Agile, Mobile, Hostile: A Year with Andre Williams, the 70- year-old has a trying year which includes being evicted from his shabby apartment, spending four days in jail for drugs, putting up with a grueling European tour, and telling a Belgrade-based DJ his secret to longevity: “A lot of sex keeps you alive. If you don’t have sex, then you have to eat tomatoes.”

But sex and/or tomatoes could not save Andre from leaving this mortal coil in 2019 at the age of 82 and leaving behind albums that were filled with songs to smile to.  Andre explained his songwriting process: “You’ve got to slide some humor into it and the humor is the sleaziness.”

While many rock bands give a wink and a nudge-nudge to the subject of sex, like the Who’s ode to masturbation via their “Mary Anne with the Shaky Hands,” Prince would have appreciated the titles of Andre’s slyly sexual songs such as “Lookin’ Down At You Lookin’ Up At Me,” “Dark Gable” and “Sling It, Bang It and Give It Cab Fare Home.” 

-Mark Daponte

Photo: Andre Williams, 2010 (Bryan Thompson via Wikimedia Commons)