The Andre Williams Blame Game

Back on Dec. 31,1999, when everybody expected planes to fall out of the sky and Jesus to manifest above the Mount of Olives (or something like that), a quasi-famous, sexagenarian sleazebag by the name of Andre Williams arrived in Vancouver to play some punk-ass R&B.

Williams had enjoyed a little success in the '50s with a tune called "Bacon Fat," he wrote the great "Shake a Tail Feather," and in the '60s he bounced around with artists like Stevie Wonder and Edwin Starr. Later on he'd work with Funkadelic and Ike Turner (Uh-oh).

After hitting the bottle, the needle, and the skids around the time that Reagan was in the White House, Williams pulled off one of the stranger comebacks in the margins of music history. A collaboration with Mick Collins and Dan Kroha of Detroit's fabled garage-kings the Gories put him back on the map in 1998 with the record Silky, abetted by poetically-titled tracks like "Pussy Stank" and "Let Me Put it In."

He'd collaborate with folk as varied as the Sadies and Don Was in years to come. But on that night at the close of the millennium, Williams was just an angry 63-year-old weirdo stalking around the Penthouse Club in long johns and a tuxedo shirt, screaming about how the "Vancouver Poe-Lease" had fucked up his show.

I didn't really get his reasoning, and neither did the other 11 people at the club (opening band and promoter included). The fuzz didn't go out and stop everyone from buying tickets. But I think Williams was also under the influence of substances unbecoming to a man his age, and I saluted him for that. It was a magnificently strange and painful night.

A few years later I'd spot Williams groping the singer of a well-known indie rock band in a bar in Toronto. She ditched the dirty old sod when he wasn't looking, and he started screaming, and I mean screaming, "Where's my Toronto pussy at?" Again, it was probably the substances.

Williams has just released a new album, Life, and the big deal is that the Black Godfather is clean and sober once again. The record is getting a warm reception, which is nice, but the only thing I've had the chance to hear yet is the teaser he put out, complete with hilariously low-rent video, back in August.

I guess it's time to give "Blame It on Obama" another listen. Remember, he's not high anymore, so I'm not sure why Williams wants to stick up for the corporate-war state's current frontman -- but you see a lot of that sort of thing down there. I'm just thinking a greasy roadhouse waltz from a professional reprobate is about as useful as any of the other analysis that followed last night's debate.