Sunday, October 21, 2007

The Start of Something Big...

A friend of mine has taken me down the road of remembrance. Thanks, KC...you spurred something in me.

Up until yesterday, I had not digitized the old band photos... it kind of hurts to remember (no, not my brain!) . It was such an amazing time in my life, but short lived under the most tragic circumstances.

I was in a band in the early 80's that was fortunate enough to be asked to open a show for Peter Tosh. Here is a picture of the marquee, Candyce (the other dancer) 2nd from the left, 2 friends and myself (far right) the day of the show.

Peter Tosh was an in-your-political-face advocate for a better world and Jamaican rights his entire music career. He was not content to be quiet in any of his beliefs, which eventually killed him (imho). His performance that night was extremely spiritual, as he spoke of his visions in between songs.

I'll post this slowly because there was so much I remember, and as another blogger I watch so eloquently puts it, 'I'd like it to marinate,' just a little bit. Thanks again, KC.



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Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods

Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods - Cameo Girl

I began studying dance at 11...jazz, modern, tap, ballet. I did a couple small shows through the years, but nothing big because I am not competitive and HATED auditions.

I kept it up through college where I had opportunities to study with African dance legends such as Anne Williams and Kariamu Welsh (my neck still hurts). Annagita ma Prem gave me spiritual training and inspiration, in Indian and Asian movement interpretation.

After getting kicked out of my student housing for having a jam session one night, I moved back home to Portland, to attend college there. I got my job back at Chucks Steak House the same week.

There, I met a new cocktail waitress who told me about an audition. I figured what the hell. I needed to face my audition jitters (thanks, Anne) and work on my courage. What's the worst thing that could happen anyway: rejection!

I drove in my bright-ass purple spandex work-out pants and leotard to a run-down residential neighborhood, double-checked the address, took a deep breath and wondered 'what the hell am I DOING?' as I walked around to the back of the house.

I relaxed a little when I heard the music, assured that I wouldn't be entering the wrong place dressed like I was. It was good music with a twangy guitar sound and a significant downbeat...wasn't wimpy at all...bold and fresh...not new wave or punk sounding like everything else at the time.

No need to knock, no one would hear me. As I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I saw the face, and smile, of an angel. His name was Billy Rancher.

No sooner did I smile back, when I felt a hand on my arm that twirled me around. Here was this gorgeous brunette dressed like me, and she yelled, "DO THIS." So, I copied her every move until the song was over. She threw her arms around me in a full-on hug and screamed.

The boys started another song. They all smiled at me as I again, copied her every move.

At that moment, I knew I had the part, and they knew that they had found the final member of the band. I had no idea what was in store for the next couple years, but I wanted to travel and it seemed a sight better than working at Chucks!

more another time

The Goddesses a Go-Go...






Candyce was a 33-yr old vegetarian and part-time model for Jantzen and Columbia. In all my days on this planet, I have never met a more intense woman. She was down-to-earth on one side, but glamour girl on the other. She told me she had been married and lived on a farm where she canned and dried her food for storage. The marriage didn't work out and she was reliving a childhood, lost.

It surprised me to learn that most of what Candyce instructed me to copy were mainly 60's dance steps: the pony, the twist, the swim. This was not what I had trained for, but my Mom taught me those steps as a young girl, so I wasn't completely clueless...just surprised.

Rehearsals were a breeze compared to the hours and hours of stretching, warm-up, memorizing and training I was accustomed to as a student. Candyce insisted all I was to do was copy her every move...no improv, no deviation...just follow the leader. Simple enough.

Both Candyce and I were avid thrift store shoppers, so off we went searching for flash. We each picked up a pair of black and white go-go boots, pantyhose, fishnet stockings, shiny black leotards, looong black and white gloves and sequin anything. I headed to one of my old dance studios and found a couple other 'real' costumes from other shows. Candyce squealed over them...she was amped!

Next was the makeup. My sister thought it was cool. Mom, on the other hand, would have barred me from leaving the house if she thought it would really work. We used liquid eyeliner to make huge catlike eyes...enough to scare any mother out of their wits!

I was seeing a drummer at the time who I had met at college one weekend when his band was playing on the road. He was just launching a new band in Portland, and I thought cool...maybe we'll get to play the same club some weekend. When I told him I had joined up w/ Billy, he took it very hard, and still does.

If their was one band that other bands hated more than others in Puddletown, it was the Malchicks... Billy's previous band. Music came easy to Billy, and so did the girls. My little drummer boys ego couldn't take it...he found it disgustingly simple music without complexity or interest...to him this new band of Billy's was worse than the Malchicks. He is quite the genius musician, with to tolerance for mediocrity. Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to quit because he didn't approve, so we slowly went our separate ways.

I had just turned 18-years old and had barely ever set foot inside a bar. With that makeup and those costumes, I thought no one would ever question my age...and I was right, they never did.

With everything in place in less than a week, it was showtime...and what a show it was!!!




Setting the Stage...

Steve Hettum was the groups manager. He showed up at the end of that first rehearsal. He was none-too-happy about my age, nor was he Mr. Charisma. Steve was the whitest man I've ever met had these pop-out eyes that made you feel like you were looking at cold steel. Billy told him to relax...that we would be unseen for the most part anyway, except on stage.

Steve pulled Candyce and I into another room and reluctantly handed me the show schedule for the month. He glared at me like his head was about to pop. He said I'd make $17.50 a show and announced he was not going to be a babysitter, "Candyce, make sure she goes EVERYWHERE with you...I don't want to EVER see her alone in the clubs." So much for the warm, fuzzy feeling.

Candyce told him I had a car (she didn't drive), and he finally relaxed a little, knowing he wouldn't have play chauffeur for me or have to cram 2 more bodies into the band van. The dude still needed his blood pressure checked though.

The schedule wasn't bad at all...pretty impressive, really. Knowing the little drummer boy, I knew about the clubs: the hard ones to get booked in, the crappy pay-your-dues clubs and the ones no one ever heard of. My debut would be at a new club called, Luis La Bamba.

I also found neither Candyce, nor myself, was the first Goddess a Go Go. The first was Mary who was Alf's (keyboard player) girlfriend. Mary was a model at Jantzen too, which is how Candyce found out about the gig. Alf didn't want Mary interrupting his 'play time'...he wanted to screw around. So after the first few shows, Mary was fired. Here is a picture of Mary and Candyce before I arrived on the scene:



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I picked up Candyce on the way. Luis La Bamba was so freaking cool! It was a restaurant for years called The Medieval Inn...it was a castle in downtown Portland! From the outside, black stone arches set the tone of the dungeon-esque interior. Everything was cobblestone and black rock, with arched passageways and no windows. Downstairs was a great Mexican restaurant and bar. Upstairs was the big bar, a huge dance floor, a nice sized stage and a balcony area for production.



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I gotta backtrack a little. Away at college, I had 3 jobs: one was doing sound and lighting for the Performing Arts Center on an as-needed basis. I had also invested $250 to attend a studio recording class at Recording Associates outside of college. Anyway, I appreciated everything that went on backstage, from the set-up to the sound checks.

I met the roadies that night. I had tons of questions for them and all three were kind to me and very approachable people. I was officially entertained now.

Candyce showed me our risers. They were 4'x4' boxes that had just been built for us, so it would be Candyce's first night on them too . The risers were placed in front of the stage, next to the speakers. My first thought was what a good opportunity I had to bust my ass w/ one wrong step.

We staked our claim to whatever 'dressing area' we could find. We had 2 suitcases of costumes and makeup to make all the change-outs, so we needed quite a bit of room.

Billy and the boys showed up as the first band concluded. Backstage instantly became a hive of activity as the other band gathered their stuff up to leave, and all 7 of us got ready.

Billy handed Candyce and I the song list and told us which songs he wanted us to perform (each set, we were to dance to no more than one or two songs...5-7 per night was tops really). I quickly lost any modesty I had...there was simply no room for that, as we dressed for the first number.

The hive quieted down as Steve went out to the stage to introduce the band. They received respectable and polite applause as the boys ran out to play. Candyce and I warmed up as the first 2 songs rolled off the list...we were to appear on #3.

Go Go Boots was the first song we would perform. As the twangy intro began, we ran through the dark hall, weaved our way through the stage and out onto our risers under the bright stage lights.

The crowd went nuts when we appeared. Billy knew showmanship and had them just where he wanted them. Then, he unleashed the hounds, "Okay folks ...TAKE THIS...this show will give you your money's worth!" It was an unbelievable night...it just intensified with each song...not just the band and the music and the dancing, but the audience and the frenzy and the crowd screaming for more. I was having way too much fun to be nervous and soaking in this mans vision and showmanship.

Here's a sampling of Billys' music...click on the 'listen to all link' to get a run-through of the whole album.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000005BRS/ref=cm_lm_fullview_prod_1/103-466...

Billy Rancher...

My Girlfriends Drawers - Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods

Billy was not a talented musician, nor had he played guitar his entire life. Billy had a vision...a driving inner voice. He didn't follow his career or who he wanted to be...he saw it and became it. Billy knew what he had to do.

The only thing that sets any of us apart from him, is that he not only listened to what the voice was saying, but he acted on what his inner voice told him to do.

The things that Billy was, were the primary components that make an exemplary human being. The cherry on top of this legendary man, was that he emanated light. Light came out of his eyes and out of his fingertips. Mostly, his light beamed from his smile. Yeah, he was handsome, but that wasn't what you were struck with...it was this light that gave you the amazing and contagious impact when interacting with him.

He could be stubborn and angry like all of us, but that's not typically what you would ever observe meeting him or knowing him. He was utterly, and sincerely, interested in all people. Everyone was beautiful to Billy except those who would stand in his way or turn fowl in his presence with their own ego trips...he had no time to waste.

Billy was well traveled. In fact, he actually lived in the same areas of the world my husband did at the same times. Just like my Randy and all others who have traveled to 3'rd world countries, this gave Billy an appreciation of other people and cultures. Billy felt the pain people endured, suffering under political regimes, poverty and human rights.

Billy's music was simple...nothing prophetic or deep. Songs flowed out his fingertips onto paper; good, bad, awful, great...all there. He carefully arranged each of those songs for the shows, always building differently, and always driven. There was never ONE Rancher show. Each of Billy's shows was new and better than the last.

He was not a perfect man. He had his demons and his shortcomings just like all of us. He would party too hard, lose his patience with his brother, stumble in his relationship with his beloved Karen and make bad decisions sometimes...you know, typical mistakes that everyone could at one-time-or-another, claim as their own.

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Billy was 23-years old when he gathered all of us together. He directed his vision with a sole purpose...some decades older than himself...definitely some more talented than himself. He graciously shared the spotlight, knowing all the while that no matter how much limelight he gave away that he was the star of the show.

It was Billy's show, Billy knew it and he also knew that he had no time to waste.

Karen...


Cyllycybin Doll Face Child - Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods


Behind every good man is an amazing woman, and Billy was no exception. Billy and Karen met waiting in line at a Midnight Movie in Portland one summer night. Karen would be Billy's rock and center for the rest of his life.


All of us kids filled the theater every weekend, trying to find something entertaining and new to do. Among the many avant garde movies, they showed Rocky Horror Picture Show, Concerts such as Ladies and Gentlemen; The Rolling Stones and one particularly applicable movie, Just a Gigalo starring David Bowie.


Karen was my age and doing the same things as I was doing. She was in her first year of college too, she was not a party animal either and she was wholesome and down-to-earth. Billy wore more makeup than she did! Eventually, Karen and I became closer than Candyce and I...we just had so much more in common.


These two were inseparable and always hanging off one-another. Billy treated Karen like a china doll and always concerned himself with her comfort, well-being and safety. There was nothing those two wouldn't have done for one-another. Really, they were the Romeo and Juliet of the '80's!

Check 1, 2...Reality Check...


Rude Buddy Holly - Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods



It was the summer that would set the wheels in motion for the rest of my life.



We played as long and as often as we could that summer. Billy was driven to reach as many people as possible; all walks, races, ages...he was driven to touch all of them with his music.



Between rehearsals, shows, photo shoots, writing, Karen, etc; Billy had no time to himself and I think this energized him even more. No matter how busy he was, Billy always had time for people and that brilliant smile just got bigger and brighter each day.



Steve (the manager) was doing a great job. He had landed our biggest gig yet: opening for Peter Tosh at a REAL concert hall on the 29th of August! THIS WAS HUGE! We all knew that this would mean more openings with big names for us, larger audiences and bigger paychecks.



The week we were due to open for Tosh, Billy started having pain in his groin. He was seen by a Doctor friend who found a tumor in his testicle. The Doc did not feel they had one day to waste and scheduled him for surgery immediately.



None of us were really worried at this point. Karen, on the other hand, was in shock. She was great though. She spoke for Billy when he couldn't find his words. She laid it out but in the most reassuring way: dealing and upfront.



When Karen and I got alone, she broke down and let it all out...she needed to cry in the worst way, yet not show her fear to Billy. I held her; she finished, wiped her tears, composed herself and became his rock again.



The really bad part was, the surgeons wanted to be aggressive and take lymph nodes out at the same time the tumor excision was being performed. Billy wouldn't do it. He wanted that Tosh concert SO bad. He did however agree that after the Tosh show, he would go back in for the lymph node surgery.



They took a testicle. Billy would not disclose to anyone what he had gone through, or what he was going to do after the Tosh show. If he had told the public, it likely would not have made a difference anyway.



It was heartbreaking. The show was an utter and complete flop. We were booed off the stage by 3000 snarling Tosh fans who didn't appreciate enduring these white people while they waited for what they came to see...Mr. Tosh.



Not only that, Billy had this one song that really was great, called 'Black Man.' Billy wrote the song as a tribute to African Music. Well, it wasn't received in the context it was offered...not even close.


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(Black Man - Peter Tosh opening performance)



The absolute WORST part is that Tosh wasn't ready and we were instructed to lengthen the performance while on stage. So we did this long-ass rendition of another tune and by the time we were given the 'coast is clear' sign, this audience HATED us.



We would need bodyguards to get out of the hall. All any of us wanted to do was watch Tosh perform. We did so from the wings until we were asked to leave. I was NOT about to go out into the audience...it was a very, very baaad vibe.



As he promised, Billy checked into the hospital and had the lymph node surgery. Our magical summer had ended with the slash of a scalpel.



Even Your Nightmares Come True...

Rockabilly Queen - Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods

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It was torture what they did to Billy. His body bore a scar that went from his upper chest and dove downward to his waist, then around his side and hip...that was just the visible part.


They took over 60-lymph nodes from everywhere in his body: respiratory, renal, vascular and intestinal system. Plus, they had just taken a testicle and you know can imagine how excruciating that was at 24-years old; not only physically, but screw with your head stuff. That is, unless you are so pure and driven a person, that it is merely secondary, and amazingly... that WAS Billy.


He was outta the hospital in a little over a week. I was personally in shock what they had done to him. I couldn't believe any of it was real or necessary; 'Billy was FINE and felt good enough to be himself...what did you DO TO HIM?'


We didn't perform for a couple months and taken a big step back professionally. One of Billy's decisions was that no one would know about the cancer. As far as everyone outside the circle of the band was concerned, Billy just 'poof,' disappeared for a while. We had inconvenienced everyone and not given anyone a good reason.


Gawd, I wish he had been the opposite; people, fans, club owners, managers, everyone would have understood! They would have allowed him the recoup time and been marketing the angle like mad.


I look back and know now that sympathy wasn't a part of Billy's vision. What Billy was doing, and not what was happening to him, was what he wanted people to see and hear.


Billy was a performer. None of us had medical insurance! At the time, I was too young and too ignorant to recognize what financially that would do to someones life.


All of us were living on pb&j sandwiches at the end of Billys' recovery. When we did the first show after the shark bite, we could barely afford the gas to get there. None of us said a word. We were just glad that the ride wasn't over and to be performing once again.


We all hoped too, that the dark cloud was gone. Billy lit up like a full moon that night. If there was a dark cloud, I couldn't see it anymore!


But something was different.


Outside, Looking In...


Something New - Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods

(The two months off gave me time to think. I was too broke to do anything...here I was: no school, no job, no money...wtf was I doing??? Would Billy be okay? Did this lead to a future? Looking back, I needed this time off to reflect on what was important to me.



The whole reason I joined the band was to travel. I'd gone to Corvalis, Eugene and Seattle...and I had to drive my car! It's not quite what I had in mind at all.



Before the band, I was out with my friends backpacking, tubing rivers, catching crawfish, fishing; every single weekend. What was beautiful in this new life?



The beautiful part was given from the crowd...their reaction...their response. Billy didn't need dancers...the band was the star of the show. I had trained so hard for all those years, to do the Pony (it's an old 60's dance)??? Sheesh!



Maybe I was feeling down because of leaving on the awful note from Tosh show. Maybe it was because I was bored. All I knew is that personally, I was finding myself at a turning point in my own life, with this time on my hands to think.



Were the glitter, autographs and lights nourishing my soul as much as being on the beach picking up shells? Not even close. Sorry folks, but upon reflection, not much about what I was doing beat my old life, in my eyes.



The show was Billy's vision and dream. I realized I did not share those feelings. Good or bad, I would stand by my new friends and see where this journey would lead. )

Immortality, for what it's worth...

The band had recorded this piece of crap demo (well, several songs more than a demo, but it still sounded like a demo) that was a great starting spot to get the music recorded. After Tosh, Billy landed a studio.



I was into sound engineering as a part of my major and kept tabs on the progress. Billy only had $1000 bucks that our drummers Dad 'invested' in the band. The studio I did sound production with charged between $50-250 per hour to musicians, depending on the support they needed and what engineer they wanted. Billy chose Jack Barr, who didn't come cheap.



It didn't take a week and the money was gone. Jack, however, was with the project. Fortunately, he owned the studio. Like everyone else, Jack was caught up in the sound, energy and Billy's compelling aura. He worked with the band until they all felt it was done.



(Billy was so cool not to forget Candyce and me. He brought us in on 'Go Go Boots,' where we introduced the song on the album in a psychedelic echo effect. Billy knew this was a little immortality...the small, but meaningful thing he could do to include the girls.)



After almost 8-months in the studio while playing an aggressive schedule in the club circuit and 3-months getting printed and pressed; 'Boom Chuck Rock' was finally complete and ready to distribute, just before summer in 1982.



He kept the album a secret. In other words, we all knew what the gift was, but Billy still wanted us and as many people as possible, to be surprised at what the box and wrapping paper.



There were over a hundred of Billy's songs to choose from to include in the album. Billy had to cut the list to 12. There were SO many that didn't make the cut that were SO much better than the ones he chose, IMO, but I never said a thing. I'm sure everyone had their personal favorites. Billy told me later that choosing which songs made it on, was the most difficult task of the project after the 3 obvious choices.



The colors he chose for the front of the album were hot. To me, the cover looked like fire in the night, without the flames. The boys did look primitive with bare chests in the bust shot of them. Still, I wish they would have picked a picture where they were all smiling...it would have been more in keeping with the inside of the fruit and reality.



On the backside, he included everybody in the band in a cut and paste, primitive fashion. Money was so tight that he felt he had two choices: get fancy and have it look cheap or get cheap and look fancy. The later was chosen.



The cherry on top was the insert. Billy had included a front and back insert in black and white shiny paper, the size of the album, live shots of the show along with the lyrics of all the songs on the album.



Candyce and I were surprised. I thought it was beautiful, even though I would have done it different. I think that was what everyone thought. Some members pleased, some not so, but only because they had their own visions.



We all had our own visions by that point.




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Is anyone still reading this story or is it getting old?

Happy Santa Claus...






Billy was back on his game. His antics seemed to get worse. Karen was back in college, so he was left to manage his own free time. He drank far too much and I knew who the cocaine guys were that hung around the back stage doors. Billy wasn't an angel...hell, neither was I, but NEVER did I partake in drinking or drugs before or during a show.



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I wish I could say the temptation wasn't there for him, but it was. A few of the other members had their 'drug' of choice too. I mean, it wasn't an opium den or anything, but it was around and you knew when someone wasn't quite 'on' their game.




At Christmas, Billy had arranged for us to open a new club, and I use that term loosely. It was a banquet room in a Chinese restaurant. It was big enough, the stage was great and the dressing room was huge; but it was still a Chinese restaurant with gold and red dragons, and paper lanterns with tassels.




We made a couple TV commercials to promote the venue and event: 'Christmas Party at Lung Fung Dragon Room." I thought they sucked. Candyce and I were dressed in little red leotards and fishnets with white fur hats, long white gloves and of course, white go-go boots. It was one of those, 'walk toward the camera with a girl on each of Billy's arms, talk about the event and the girls in unison break out a Merry Christmas, Everyone' boring things.




It worked though. We filled the room, relatively speaking, but it still felt so empty because of it's massive size. The sound quality wasn't great. The drinks were in these puny little 4-oz glasses and expensive. If I had been a customer, I'd have been disappointed...but the fans didn't seem disgusted.




The band started making some money at this place, since the cover charge was ours to keep. Billy not only had us playing one show a night, Thurs-Sat; but added in an underage show on both Friday and Saturday afternoon. This would become our regular venue, playing there sometimes 2-weeks a month.




All this was fine. I didn't mind the work, but the split shifts were a drag (literally...no shower there and the makeup looked rotten at the end of the double show days) and it was twice as much laundry, twice as many pantyhose and fishnets (they don't last long), more gas money, more money for eating on the road (it was a long way from home).




I found out on accident how much more money Steve, the band and Billy were making at Lung Fung. Candyce had insisted on a raise being the 'lead' dancer, and got it. So, I asked for a raise. I was given a measly 2.50 cents more per show.




That was it. My soul was empty. My pockets were damn near empty. I was working twice as hard. I was so tired of the same old stupid dances. I was treated like a child. I was sequestered. Mostly, I saw no future. Album or no album, unless something changed, I was ready to call it quits.




My childhood sweetheart bought a pickup with a camper, so he could spend time with me. After shows, we would play Backgammon, Cribbage, Gin Rummy and talk for hours, in the little one room camper.




He had a morning job, so after going to sleep at 4:00am, he'd wake back up and drive to work, leaving me in the back to sleep. His shift was usually done by 2pm, just as I was waking up and getting hungry. He'd bring me croissants and pastry, since he drove a delivery truck for a French bakery.




We both dreamed of more. We hatched this idea of starting a 3-wheeler rental business on the Oregon Coast. This was before ATV's were so big. This was my break from the band. I would leave to pursue things more important to me.




No one in the band seemed to be disappointed when I gave 3-month notice I was leaving. I was too young to fight to keep. I would be easy to replace (trust me, this wasn't brain surgery). Billy and Karen would be taking a month off to go to Europe before the release of the album. I thought this was a good time to go, rather than endure another month of no pay.




Besides, these boys were getting too big for their britches. They were riding a high rope and all I could see were things getting uglier between the band members, acting like spoiled brats and spitting on those that got them to that plateau.




The higher the balloon climbs; when it bursts... it's a longer way to fall.



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Some English on that, if you please...



We had months of shows to do before Billy and Karen were leaving to Europe and I would be leaving for more earthly pursuits. We had a show at a downtown Portland club that doubled as a restaurant during the day.



After our encore, I was running backstage with everyone and ran ahead a little to pat Nicks ass and my high heels flew out from under me, as has I hit a patch of grease on the kitchen floor. I landed on my left wrist. My little drummer boy took me to the emergency room where they put a cast on it and said, "sorry darlin...6-weeks."



I asked the hospital for a couple ace bandages. I wrapped up the cast and gee...didn't look half bad...little bulky, but no one would know.



For the most part, they didn't know...except for this poor guy at a show we did in Corvalis the following weekend. He got a little too close. Keith saw it happen but all I saw was this guy being carried off the dance floor.



I thought it was some drunk that passed out. I didn't have a clue until the end of the show that I had knocked him out cold...I thought I'd hit the speaker!



The very next night, Candyce did a kick which landed square on some poor blokes jaw and dislocated it. His girlfriend promptly walked up and threw a drink on her before the song was over. There was no containing her; Candyce went after her and Steve had to pull Candyce back to the stage.



None of us could keep a straight face. We tried to keep it together but we were all in stitches, as we tried as hard as we could to make it through the song.



Check out the left hand in the picture. It's kinda in the powder that was released during that number but you can slightly see the cast...absolute truth.



No charges were pressed.



Upstroke, Down...


The last show we did before Billy and Karen left to Europe was opening for James Brown. That man flat puts on a show! He deserves the title, "hardest working man in show business" and he's one heck of a nice guy too. What a way to go out, eh.


After the show, I jumped in my bug and off I went. It didn't hurt a bit. I found a cute little house 2-blocks from the beach and went for a walk on it every morning. I started digging my dinner (clams and mussels) and fishing again. My business partner/boyfriend would join me in a couple months when I drove back for the album release party. It was a blissful 2-months.


Billy and Karen returned home from Europe. This would be the last time I'd spend with the band; and the last of the autographs, painted faces, sequins and fishnets.


Billy looked good, but he had grown really arrogant. What happened to that nice guy who's smile lit up a room? If I had a glimmer of disappointment in my decision to leave, it was wiped away seeing how much he had changed.


It felt like I signed hundreds of albums that night and when it was over, I jumped in my bug and off I went. The further away I got, the better I felt...back to reality and what felt good to me.


This next section of the story will be recalled using a book that was written about the band, by Bill Reader, since I wasn't there. Thanks, Bill...if you're still reading my blogs.



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Billy hooked up with Lou Erlanger who played guitar in Mink DeVille...a band based in New York. Lou offered to help Billy lay down some more music on tape. Lou's sister was an editor for Rolling Stones magazine and an idea was hatched to have the band play at her wedding with all the big Rolling Stones executives.


Unfortunately before that got off the ground, Lou had his fill of Billy's ego too and dropped him cold. This however did give birth to the next idea: Billy would take the band on a tour of the East Coast. This would prove to be an interesting and flawed decision, since Lou was the one who would have lined up the shows for the band. That didn't phase Billy!


The band would stay with Alf's family in New Jersey. They would be able to rehearse at Matti's (Alf's brother) auto shop. Joey, another of Alf's brothers, was a big producer and would be enlisted to help introduce them around.


While Billy and the band members flew to New York, the Roadies, Annie and the Dancers would take a 3.5-day long cross-country train trip to get themselves and all the equipment back East. Annie was the one who booked the Tosh gig and knew people on the East Coast...she volunteered to help too and said all she needed was a hotel room. Steve assured her, 'no problem.' He lied. The girls were set up in Alf's parents house, separated from everyone else, with no transportation.


Without much to do, Keith started working on a broken-down van that Matti offered to Billy if anyone could get it running. One day Matti came into the garage with a friend, Bruce. Mick pulled his head out from the hood and offered to shake his hand except that it was dirty. Bruce laughed and grabbed his hand anyway with a hearty greeting. Mick went back to work and Keith asked him, "do you know who that was?" Mick says, "yeah, that was Bruce." Laughter started as Keith says, "yeah, that was f...king Bruce Springsteen!"


The trip had been a waste of time the first couple weeks, but Matti had a plan to change that and bring Bruce by a club the next gig they did. He told Billy to ask him up on stage.


The Unreal Gods had played on Broadway a couple of times and were beginning to attract a crowd. But playing with Bruce would get them in every newspaper in New York. Billy didn't seem very excited about it though.


So, one night Bruce showed up, ready to play. He sat in the audience and waited and waited. Billy did not invite him up. Bruce went backstage after the show and said, "you were good, you got a shot at it. later."


Matti screamed at Billy. Everyone was pissed. The way Billy looked at is was, "We're better than Bruce Springsteen."


Like I said, Billy had grown arrogant.

Uptown Boy...



The NY trip was a flop and getting worse. The new dancer, Alaina, they hired to replace me got terribly sick. She, in turn, gave the crud to Billy who literally spent nearly the entire 6-weeks coughing. Steve gave Alaina his airline ticket and she flew home. Mick and Keith also got fed up, and hopped a plane home too.



As promised, Annie had arranged for a NYC Corporate Music Lawyer to watch the band play at Matti's little club. After the show, he invited Annie and Steve to his office in Manhattan where he told them that he loved the band.



He advised them against signing with a Portland Agent that was courting them. Instead, he said he could get them a gig at the Peppermint Club in Manhattan and would arrange a meeting with a group of CBS Record executives.



They were so excited to tell Billy. Steve called Billy, and while he was on the phone with him, Alf picked up the another phone and said, "Steve you don't have the authority to do this anymore, Matti is going to manage the band." With that, they headed over to Matti's to find out wtf was up. When they arrived, Billy blew her off AND the Peppermint Club AND CBS Records!



Steve and Annie had had enough and packed up and left too...after all that both of them had done. They were hurt to the core.



The only productive part of the entire NY fiasco, was a tape. Dr. Flaxel (drummers Dad) had invested $20k for the band to use in the recording studio. Billy picked the legendary Power Station Recording Studio. Larry Alexander who had engineered for David Bowie and John Lennon, recorded five songs for Billy. Two days and 20K latter, they had a damn good tape.



After coming home and playing a bit in Portland, Patti was hired to take Alaina's place and it was (from what I heard) NOT a pretty sight. These were not complicated dance steps, but one did have to know how to dance. Billy decided to fire the dancers right after the New Year.



As luck would have it, Clive Davis with Arista records got wind of the band after hearing the tape. He flew up and arranged to attend a show at the Starry Night Club.



John and Billy picked Clive and Neil Partnow (his right hand man) up at the airport. Poor John was so nervous, he could barely speak. Clive Davis was like God to these boys, having produced Janis Joplin, Santana, Billy Joel and yes...Bruce Springsteen.



Four months earlier, Clive had signed a 19-year old singer named Whitney Houston and he wanted to add a new rock and roll band to his lineup. He liked what he heard! And, here he was...in the flesh, ready to listen.



The show was a success and Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods were signed with Arista Records! The party lasted for 2-weeks.

Symmetry in My Play...


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It was the same story we've all heard a hundred times: band plays together; lead guy gets signed...but nobody else. Billy was anxious to sign, but the legal bullscraps took much more time than he thought it should.



In the meantime, the band played a few shows, with Alf being the most insecure one of all about his future as keyboard player. The other members knew they'd be riding with Billy to the top.



Finally, the day came when Billy actually and officially was signed! It was a grand day with TV cameras and reporters and the story lead the news on every local station! They were gonna be stars and now EVERYONE knew about it! Billy's vision and dream was finally real life!!!



While Randy and I were planning our wedding and buying a home, Billy and the boys suffered the 'hurry-up-and-wait." The band was stuck in Portland. They played so many 'Goodbye Party's' that was more like a 'Goodbye Tour' (a quote from Bill Reader's book). Clive was taking his time choosing a producer. Peter McIan was chosen...producer of Men at Work.



Again, it was the same story we've all heard before: finally get signed; producer changes music and ruins the magic. Clive was 'making' the band and took his time doing it, asking the questions: who would they be like, what would they sound like, was it to be heavy or pop and how were they gonna market this thing?



Meantime, I got married and they were all still sitting on their hands with their thumbs up their u-knows. It was a really frustrating time. Karen and Billy were on the outs too, so that didn't make anything any easier. To make matters even worse, there was no payola...they were flat broke.



Billy continued to change even more and got the 'Star Disease.' You know, the one where you forget your friends and treat people like crap who got you there in the first place? What I'm trying to say, is that things got a little ugly before they left to Los Angeles, but that's what 'Stars' do, so it was 'forgiven' (sheesh).



When they got to LA, it was yet another story you've all read: little fish swimming in a sea of sharks. Things didn't go well at all. The personality clashes were awful for productivity...Alf didn't like Ian, Billy didn't like what Ian was doing and John just wanted to get it done. Dave and Bill were their usual quiet and happy-go-lucky selves, respectively.



They began to compromise what they'd been doing for years now, changing the music and trying new things for the label. They did it because they had to...because that's the music industry, but that doesn't mean it didn't go down like eating broken glass either. Billy grew increasingly frustrated.



Even the compromises didn't work though. It was a bad pairing. Whitney Houston was perfect for Arista. They really didn't know what to do for or to, Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods.



Then came the lawsuits. Oh yeah...I told you that you've heard this story before! Billy had signed some papers with Joe Delia (Alf's family) and decided to sue Arista. No sooner than that was behind them, that the manager that replaced Steve (who was obviously out a job) served papers to McIan and Arista too. They were being sued for another $25-million smackaroos, on top of owing money to Dr. Flaxel and other investors. It was like a deluge.



Then the day finally came when 3 of the members were sent back to Portland. They had their tracks recorded and were of no use now. Only Billy and John were left in LA. That was the last time those 3 boys would see that recording studio from the inside.



Billy was still trying to get Karen back too. The tattoo he got of her name didn't impress her in the least (surprise). Karen insisted on loyalty with her man, but Billy looked at it like, "I've been an angel compared to all the things I could have done with the ladies...big deal I caved in once or twice."



Everything was stress, chaos and compromise. Billy's life was out of his control. One day, John and Billy decided it would be a good time to take a trip to Tijuana...blow off some steam. Unfortunately, Billy had some bad Tacos and got sick.



Well, he said it was bad food, but that didn't explain the lump in his stomach.




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Rocky Road...


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Billy and John immediately returned to Portland, after Billy spoke with his doctor and told him about the lump. He didn't let on to John, or any other members of the band that he was waiting for the results of x-rays and tests.



The news came on a Saturday afternoon, "The cancer is back, Billy." He was with Karen at her apartment in Eugene when the bomb was dropped. The problems between Billy and Karen immediately vanished when reality hit.



The rest of the band were on their way down to Eugene. Even though he didn't feel like playing, Billy managed to put on a show, knowing full-well that it might be a while until they played together again.


Billy would be subjected to 12-weeks of chemotherapy. Billy's treatments would be alternated five straight days chemo sessions, then two-weeks off to recover. This was repeated for the entire twelve-weeks.



The day of the first treatment, Billy's Mom dropped him off at the hospital on her way to work. Billy was taken to a room with six other cancer patients and placed in a reclining chair. A nurse strapped thick rubber tubing around his arm and forced in the two-inch IV needle. Billy leaned back and watched the drugs seep into his body, as his insides began to tingle.



The needle stayed in his arm 10-hours. When it was over, he could barely get off the chair or stand, he was so weak and sick from the treatment. On the way home, Billy asked Mom to pull-over...he couldn't make the trip without vomiting.



After his first week of treatments, he awoke to find clumps of blonde hair on his pillow. Then his fever shot up due to an infection. He was rushed to the hospital where he received blood transfusions for 6-days, to increase his platelet count and get his fever down.



In the meantime, the boys decided to play a few shows without him. It was a total disaster, but they had to pay the rent somehow.



Midway through his treatments, Billy made his first public appearance. John Lennon had been killed and Billy insisted on playing at a Memorial Show. He was one of the last performers. He took the stage and cradled an accoustic guitar.



He wore a woman's wig in an attempt to hide the fact that he had lost his hair. He had also lost a lot of weight. He had blisters lining the insides of his mouth and his fingers ached as he did the best he could.



He started his performance by telling the audience about his trip to LA and finally about the lump. As the word 'cancer' came from his lips across the loud speaker system, the auditorium gasped.



He began to strum and dedicated the song to Karen...it was, 'In My Life' that Billy chose. The next day, he was back to get another treatment.



None of the other worries went away either. He was still being sued for $25-million, and each chemo treatment ran $1500. Even though his mother had bought him a health insurance policy, the deductibles eroded his finances badly.



Billy lived to play again. Looking forward to the stage, was what kept him going.



His last chemo treatment was over the 15th of January, 1985. His doctor had scheduled surgery for February 7th, to remove the shrunken tumor.



In between, he planned to play a few gigs with the Unreal Gods...just like the old days. Sadly, he was still very weak. Not long into the first show, Billy started to feel tired and sent the band into an extended reggae jam.



Bill Flaxel wasn't at all happy about the low-energy jam. He got frustrated, stood up, put his drumsticks down and walked off stage.



There was nothing Billy could think to do but sit down at the drums and play in his place. When he did, Flaxel ran back on stage to Billy's microphone and started singing.



That was the ugly end for Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods, but not the end for Billy. Everyone was scared, not just for themselves, but for Billy. Everyone reacts differently to tragedy.



Billy would not be daunted, and in between frequent hospital visits he managed to form a new band called Flesh and Blood . These were members who had been with him before the Unreal Gods and a couple other talented, young musicians.



Because of the cancer and the contact he had with all others who were afflicted with this disease, Billy had emerged a more spiritual and thoughtful person. He was not only the Billy with a smile that lit a room and charisma that magnetized everyone in it; he was enlightened and driven all over again.



His concern for other people grew. He was concerned about wars, starvation, Indians, everything. He wrote a letter to President Reagan, with an idea how to end the famine in Ethiopia.



There wasn't anything that he didn't think he could fix, before the cancer came back again.



Billy tried everything and anything to fight this time: magnets, herbs, diet, meditation...everything except chemotherapy. His condition deteriorated quickly. His doctors cornered and told him his only chance to live was chemo. Reluctantly, he was checked back in the hospital for more transfusions and another round of chemo.



After checking out and trying to help his sister with a musical production project, he got an infection that sent him into septic shock. His temperature skyrocketed to 106 and what couldn't get worse, did.



After further tests, it was discovered that chemotherapy was not working anymore. The cancer had spread from his back this time, to his kidneys and his liver. Billy was given the word that he had 3-months to live.



He did not give up, or give in. Billy was as driven as he ever was.



He wrote songs as if he was running out of time now...relentlessly writing. He couldn't perform anymore, so a make-shift recording studio was set up in Karen and Billy's apartment. A non-stop flow of Portland musicians, came over to record with him.



Instead of writing about go-go boots, Billy was writing about world peace and brotherhood. He found God and took advantage of every minute he had. Billy wanted his music to be heard but not for commerical reasons. Despite his deteriorating condition, Billy talked more about dying in his song lyrics than he did in real life.



Flesh and Blood had some legal issues with Arista and only allowed Billy to record 5-songs on an EP. Billy was still under contract with Clive and that was all he would allow to be released, though Billy would have gladly laid down a hundred songs, no matter the quality...he had stuff to say.



After Flesh and Blood was done, Billy put together a solo act called, 'Mr. Groove.' Mr. Groove only appeared a couple times for benefit shows and fundraisers. He took a chair on stage because he had no strength to stand. He never let anything stop him from being what he had to be.



One day, he coaxed his oldest friend, Glen Baggerly, to take him fishing. Even though he felt like "shit", he wanted to go. They fished for about 10-minutes and no bites. Billy reeled in his line and said, "That's all I wanted to do, just throw my line in the water one more time."



They arrived back to some friends house and Billy excused himself to go lay on the couch. Glen knelt down beside him and asked what was the matter. Billy somberly replied, "Just take me home."



Gingerly, he was placed in the front seat of the car, and the seat was reclined to make him more comfortable. Billy was the only one who was not crying.



Right then, Billy was in too much pain to sleep for the long ride home, but cheered up when 'Brown Sugar' by the Stones came on the radio...he turned it up loud and listened. It reminded him of the old Malchick days, trying to make enough money to buy some beer. What happy and simple times those were.



As they approached Portland, his friend said, "Ranch, give me some advice...what do you say to anyone who wants to make it?"



Billy wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he had an answer: "You know, you hear it all your life, but I'll tell you, no matter what you do, if you want it bad enough, no matter what it is, you never, never, never give up."



Billy paused with exhaustion, just saying those words.



After a bit, he looked at his friend and said, "You know what Bags? They can't say the Ranch never tried."



No they can't Billy. No they can't.





(I'm a mess as I write these words and remember everything that Billy gave to me and to the world. There is one last entry I have to write, and I'll take my time finding the right words. Meantime, thanks for reading. It's meant a lot to me to get to share this story and to be an instrument of continuation in sharing the message in his music...the singular thing Billy wanted to leave behind.)




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"Good Night, Mom...I'm Sorry."...


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Billy played more shows. He played his heart out, writing and vocals. The guitar was much too difficult and painful to include in his performances as Mr. Groove, so he sang on stage.



The clubs were always packed and people were always dancing, but this was different from a Billy Rancher and Unreal Gods show. Billy had something to say this time, and he was saying it in his songs. Against a reggae beat, Billy was preaching about love, peace and understanding. It was more intimate and deeply moving as he sang his message.



Billy stood occasionally, but spent most of the time sitting in his chair. When he wasn't singing, he'd turn to his drum machine and punch in commands. At times the pain was so bad, he would lay down on the stage.



But he was getting sicker and the shows began to get a macabre feeling to them. On one hand it was so beautiful, but on the other hand when the lead singer curls up on stage in pain and the rest of the band grooves on, it became hard to watch. Billy was now 130-lbs soaking wet.



It was understood that this was Billy's last chance. And everyone understood that Billy was never happier than when he was on stage, singing.



Then came the night when Karen and Billy's Mom would beg him not to go on. The other band told him their was no need...that they could do the whole night if he wasn't up to it. His reaction to them was, "I have to play...this might be my last one."



Billy made his way from the dressing room and had to stop and lay down on the floor of the same kitchen that I broke my wrist in. Everyone wondered if they should call an ambulance, but Billy insisted he was just resting.



It was a great show. Dave and John played with him that night too. Billy thanked John for playing with him all those years and said he had a great time. John knew this would be it, and that Billy was done.



After the final song was played, Billy asked Annie to come into the dressing room. Billy laid his head on her lap and they talked. He said, "Annie, I think I'm ready to go. It's just too much for me." Annie started to cry and stroked Billy's head, "I know, sweetheart."



Soon after, Billy was admitted back into the hospital. Flowers and gifts poured in. Old friends flowed in and out to visit. All these people with different problems, and they were being cheered up by Billy, who didn't know if he'd be around to talk to them tomorrow.



Billy's fishing buddy, Glen came by one day near the end and they had a talk. Tears streamed down Glen's cheeks as Billy assured him, "I'm ready, man. I've met God, I've talked to God. I'm ready."



Billy continued, "If I had to do it all over again, I'd take my chances with the cancer...let cancer kill me. Look what chemotherapy has done to me. What could be more frustrating for me than not being able to move, not being able to play my guitar. Man, I'd rather die than take the chemo." Glen held his friends hand as he spoke.



Billy was trying to convince himself that it was okay to let go, but he'd been fighting cancer for so long, it was a hard habit to break. Billy's Mom came in to be with him. She noticed his breathing was getting slower and more labored. As she massaged his hands, Billy turned his head to look at her and said, "Good night Mom....Mom..." She leaned close and whispered, "Yes, Billy." He looked up and smiled. "I'm sorry." And Billy closed his eyes for the last time.



For two days, Billy was in a coma. His mom kept a vigil, talking to him about everything. Billy couldn't share her laughter or tears, but she was sure he could hear her. She wanted to make sure Billy knew he was not alone.



On Tuesday morning, December 2nd, Billy's Mom told him, "It's all right, Billy. I'm sorry you hurt so bad. It's okay to go now. We'll be all right." A few minutes later, the room got quiet. Billy wasn't breathing anymore. At 9:15am, his body finally gave out on him.



His Mom picked up a carnation from a bouquet and laid it on his chest. His Mom thought she could make out a faint smile on Billy's face.



Billy's sister was sleeping down the hall in a waiting room with Karen. When she woke up, the sun shined through a window, filling the room with light. She knew as soon as she sat up that Billy wasn't with her anymore. A nurse came into the room and told them that Billy was dead.



The cause of death was liver failure due to lymphatic cancer. The hospital received hundreds of calls that day. All of the callers were hoping to console Karen and his Mom and just to let someone know how much they would miss Billy.



Billy's funeral crowded St. Mary's Cathedral with over 300 people. Two of Billy's songs were played over the loudspeaker. One was, My Life: "My life is a picture book I know it's worth a second look," and The Big Picture: "And in the big picture, the picture, the fear of dying is only life."



Billy's grave is marked by a flat, grey rectangular stone with his likeness from the chest, up and musical notes etched in white lettering, with the words:



Billy Rancher



1957-1986



I'm Walking Down a Rocky Road For You





I will include some tributes others have written. All of them are beautiful and honor his memory in the most touching ways.



A Story from Billings News in Montana 5-years ago:



Billy Rancher tribute

When I visited the Rose City (Portland, Ore.) last month, I devoured the offerings at Powell’s Books, the largest used bookstore in the world. One of the many music books I purchased was a biography of one of Portland’s early ’80s future rock stars, Billy Rancher. Shortly after being signed to Arista Records, Rancher and his band, the Unreal Gods, saw their futures interrupted by his fight with cancer.

I was too young for the club scene at the time, but did catch Rancher opening for a few shows like Adam Ant and the Stray Cats. He didn’t make a big impression on me, since I was more into the metal scene at the time, but this book really touched me. It was also fun to read about a lot of clubs I played at and names I recognized.

I saw a copy of his first album, “Boom Chuck Rock Now!” at a used record store while in Portland, but it was $25! So, I searched for it on the web with no luck, until I found www.twolouies.com. Two Louies was the Portland music rag when I lived there (named after the Northwest hit “Louie Louie”). It’s now exclusively on-line.

I couldn’t believe that the first thing I read in longtime publisher Buck Munger’s longtime column, “As the World Turntables,” was a story about a Billy Rancher tribute show and possible Unreal Gods reunion. Dec. 2 will be the 15-year anniversary of Rancher’s death and Portland’s music fans haven’t forgotten him.



What Two Louies Magazine in Portland said recently:



How about a local artist that never had a hit, has been dead 20 years, and still has a following?





Billy Rancher was an All-City shortstop for the Madison high school baseball team before he dropped his bat and grabbed the Strat. Rancher ripped through the club scenes in Portland and Seattle and recorded an indie album of his “Boom Chuck” sound. The regional buzz became horrific and Clive Davis flew to Portland to sign him only to have Billy die of cancer before the Arista album could come out.



December 2nd marks 20 years since Billy's passing. The Oregon Music Hall of Fame is contemplating an event on that date, which is a Saturday. OMHOF inducted Billy Rancher and his band in 2000.



An excerpt from Two Louies, 'A Hero in Our Midst:'



Billy Rancher died fifteen years ago after a long and arduous battle with a particularly pernicious form of lymphoma (cancer of the lymph system). His incredible display of courage, especially in the waning days of his life, served as an inspiration to all who were privileged to be witness— leaving an indelible mark in the hearts and souls of each.



Rancher’s success as a popular musician and charismatic local icon has been well documented. But his heroic struggle to continue to live and create, even as his health was hopelessly deteriorating, will forever stand as testimony to Billy’s indomitable spirit and stoically gritty determination.



When we met for an interview in the early fall of 1986, Billy was weak and thin from the long-term effects of chemotherapy (which, among other things, had severely affected his equilibrium), as well as from the disease itself . But, despite his condition, he was optimistic and full of ideas and plans. He had acquired a deeper philosophy and greater appreciation for life.



“I think we’re all prodigal sons. We all make mistakes and we’re all learning from them moment by moment. No one can do it alone. You are not you because of you alone. I’m glad I had help.




“Right now, I don’t have any problems. Physically, my arms are numb. I can’t do a lot of things with my hands. My legs are numb. These are all from things that were done to my body.



“But mentally and spiritually I’m overjoyed with gratitude and love at being alive. I’m so happy to wake up and look at the things I’m blessed with, the things I can do— blessed by good people like my friend here [motions toward his longtime girlfriend Karen Sage]; we’re getting married next April, and being able to do this... I’m really grateful for that.



“I’m lucky. I’m very lucky. I feel fortunate for the lessons I’ve been given. If I turn to dust tomorrow, I’ll die happy. I’m glad to know what I know now. There’s a lot of misery that need not be experienced. You don’t have to live hell on earth. It could be heaven on earth.



“Being on the right road should be the ultimate goal for everyone. Money, success... they are all fruits, and justifiably yours, if your intentions are good, if you place love as your goal. Love your creator, whether he’s Muslim or Christian, or whatever.”



Rancher’s words seem almost prophetic, in light of recent world developments. His opinions about music and a message were equally mindful and clear.



“Pop music has now reached a place where it can have another level of effectiveness. A staunch awareness can be created and broadcast to the world. We can communicate a message in ways that weren’t possible even ten years ago: MTV for example.”



MTV was only five years old at the time, but Billy was already fully cognizant of the power of that medium. Still, more importantly, Billy was committed to his ideals, as he proved shortly thereafter.



On November 12, 1986, Billy summoned a number of musician friends to High Tech Studios in Northeast Portland, to help him to record his Christmas wish for the world, “Make Love, Not War.”



Billy’s health had worsened considerably in the six short weeks since the interview. Accompanied by his mother and sister Ellen (also a musician), Billy lay, completely enfeebled, on the couch in the control room. He was deathly thin, with skin so jaundiced he was the bright golden color of a falling autumn leaf.



From the couch, Billy directed the contingent musicians through the arrangement of his simple song, which was, essentially, a repeated refrain, somewhat reminiscent of Pachelbel’s “Canon.” He was so weak that he could not sit up, but he knew exactly how the song was to be arranged, how every part should be mixed. His impassioned vocal was done in a single take, with everything he had to give.



Of the nearly twenty people in attendance in the studio that day, all would attest to a profound sense of spiritual awe at Billy’s bravery, strength and resolve in the face of just a terrible situation.



Billy Rancher died three weeks later on December 2, 1986, at the age of 29. His song “Make Love, Not War” was played on local radio stations throughout the Christmas season that year. Now, perhaps more than at anytime since he recorded the song, his message rings with a particular pertinence.



Though his career as a rock star was cut drastically short by the ravages of his disease, the real tragedy was that Billy Rancher did not live nearly long enough to tell completely of the lessons he had learned when he was deprived of some of his gifts. For, it was at that very point in his brief existence that he became an archetype, an Everyman-like figure. It is within that very moment that his tale truly lies, a magnificent story of love and transcendence.




Billy, it was so rude of you to leave

Sixteen years ago this week, the world lost a great rock star, cut down way before his time. So early did he die that most of the world never got to see or hear him. Those of us who enjoyed his performances over a few, brief, sweet years here in Portland will never forget.


His name was Billy Rancher, and when he burst onto the local bar scene he was hardly old enough to drink in the places he was playing. In 1980 and 1981, after he and his brother Lenny broke up their band the Malchicks, Billy assembled a new band around himself and called them the Unreal Gods. They proceeded to tear the house down with an amazing array of rock and ska influences all rolled into a brand of music that Billy dubbed "boom chuck rock." "Boom chuck, boom chuck, boom chuck -- ch-chuck" was how the drums would go. We'd all sing along -- with the drums, mind you! It was that catchy. And, quite unusual for the local circuit they were riding, the Gods were playing mostly original numbers -- only an occasional cover to be heard -- which made it all the more stunning.


ImageBoom chuck rock was as danceable as all get-out. The little La Bamba club downtown and the big Lung Fung Dragon Room out on SE 82nd Avenue would positively steam up when the Gods hit the stage. And it was visual, too, with a pair of tasseled Goddesses who proved to all who witnessed them that, yes, go go boots could make a comeback at any moment. The scene was so theatrical, so electrifying. Hard to take your eyes off the stage, it was so intense. The charisma flowed from a lot of directions, but one thing that drew the entire audience in was how much Billy and his mates cared about this music. I remember shaking his hand in the foyer of some dive one night after his show was over. (You stayed to the end of the Unreal Gods, even if you were going to look and feel like hell at work the next day.) And the guy shook every last hand walking out to that parking lot as he sipped on a shotglass of peppermint schnapps.


Funny music, too. Tongue in cheek through at least half of it. Songs like "My Girlfriend's Drawers" (possibly referring to furniture, probably not) and "Rude Buddy Holly" ("Buddy, it was so rude of you to leave!"). A young man's outlook, but with wicked wit and wisdom.


The band cut an indie record on its own and headed down to L.A. to show it around. They signed a record deal, and I think they may have even cut an album in a big-time New York studio. Fame and fortune seemed just around the corner. But it wasn't long before the amazing journey took a major detour: Billy, in his mid-20s, was diagnosed with lymphoma.


The medical ordeal took Rancher away from us for a long time, and when he came back, the story was different. It had to be. Now on top of everything else, Billy was being a strong fighter in the face of The Big Reality. But he kept going, with songs about Christmas, songs about his girl, songs about peace. Not as funny, not nearly as raucous. But still jaw-dropping awesome.


I saw him backstage one time after he got sick, at the hotsy-totsy Schnitzer Concert Hall, of all places. The hall had just opened following its big renovation, and a bunch of performers were doing a benefit for some noble cause. It was late fall of '84, I think. I was an extra in a dance/performance art piece being done by a friend, who in those days was known as Vincent Martinez. Anyway, while a large group of us were waiting to go on with Vin, in comes Billy and another guy -- I think it was Lenny -- and they worked out a little acoustic number on a guitar or two. It might have been "Happy Santa Claus," but I may be misremembering. Knowing about Billy's medical condition, I was craning my neck to see if I could get a glimpse of how he was doing. He looked o.k. for that night, at least.


When you're a 20-something partying in a club, it's not easy to tell whether what you are enjoying so much is timeless, or just the group du jour. Your hormones are raging, you're finally grown up and trying to figure out what that means, and it may not be until years later that you can appreciate what mattered and what didn't.


But we were right about Billy Rancher. He was an Unreal God, indeed.


If you ever see the album "Boom Chuck Rock Now" for sale, and you don't have a copy, buy it. If you don't want to keep it, send it to me and I'll buy it from you. I think the CD is readily available in a few places for around $15. The vinyl LP, on the other hand, is a collectors' item. I've heard prices of $50 and $65. But you won't get mine for 10 times that.


Posted by Jack Bogdanski at December 4, 2002 02:37 AM TrackBack (0)





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Hi Jack,


Just found your blog when searching for "Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods".


I put a cassette tape in the car player (yes this vehicle has a tape player) this morning on the way to Starbucks, one I recorded off of the EP back in '81 (I guess), haven't listened to that for years. That prompted the search.


How very saddening it was to read about Billy's fate. I had often wondered why his talent (and the rest of the group) didn't prompt more EPs or CDs and why they seemed to just fade away, RAPIDLY.


I was attending the UofW when Billy Rancher was hitting the clubs here in the Seattle area, I gradutaed in 1982 and took a job in eastern WA as a fish biologist for Grant County PUD, now some 20+ years later I am headed today to eastern WA to start a job in Richland WA as a project manager, so in commemoration I thought, hey thats what you listened to last time when you drove over why not put in the player again.


How things change, on that drive in 1982 I was in a hot pink 65 Rambler Classic where the stereo in the car was worth twice the value of the car, it belonged to a friend who had painted it pink for his girlfriend to drive. I was too broke to afford a car and absolutely loved borrowing that to go over to the other side of the state. Talk about a chick magnet! We almost alway used that car for clubbing.


I usually saw Billy Rancher and T U R Gods at the Hall of Fame on University Way in Seattle. We called that place the "Hall of Shame".


Thanks for providing the history and links at your blog. While it's sad to learn it's also refreshing to know why. If you have other informatoin about the rest of the group or what friends moved on to I would be interested to know.


Galen


Posted by: Galen Torneby at December 6, 2004 02:50 AM

And another one from Bojack:

It's been three years since I wrote on this blog about Portland rock legend Billy Rancher, and still the e-mail responses keep a-comin' in. So many people were touched by the guy. Here's another one, which I got last night:


I do remember Billy Rancher?in fact I have a bit of a sappy story. My wife and I knew each other several years dating off and on throughout that time, until she got engaged to someone else that is. Over the summer of 1982 I continually pestered her to ?go on a date? (to win her back) of which she politely refused. One day in August she stopped by work and brought me cookies for my birthday, her fiancé ˇas sick and acting quite standoffish. She loved to dance and I thought what better than to take her to see Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods! We had an awesome time down at the Labamba club and the rest is history?4 kids and 22 years later.

We also saw Billy Rancher play with Marshall Crenshaw at the old warehouse on the SE side. I did a search because my 15 year old daughter is writing a creative story for her English class here in Colorado and needed an obscure but authentic musician from the early 80?s for her story. What better than Boom Chuck Rock to fit the bill?

I do have the album and the CD, but better still I have a remix of a few songs that another fan did with his sound equipment. I?m sure it violates something (not a profit deal) so I won?t elaborate. 16 years ago eh?...the saddest part is most will never know just how heart pumping and original they were.


Don't look now, buddy, but it's 19 years now.


Posted by Jack Bogdanski at December 7, 2005 10:36 PM TrackBack (0)





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Billy was a friend of mine, and the most courageous person I've ever known. If you haven't heard Here Comes Mr. Groove, the last album he made, after he couldn't play guitar any more because of chemo, you're missing some heartfelt poignant music. If bojackers are interested, send me a note, and I'll burn a copy for you. My favorite song on Mr. Groove is Chemotherapy. He wrote it with his little brother. I think I remember all the words:


"Just three years ago, I was just like you

looking for fun, a romancer

then my doctor's office did say

so straightforwardly I had cancer


But I'm getting better and better every day

Taking my strength from the master

Yes, I'm getting stronger and stronger every day

Making a triumph from disaster


Who would ever thought

Who would ever thought

This would happen to me


No more vanity

This wig looks bad on me

I don't feel so good

I don't feel so good


Who would ever thought

Who would ever thought

This would happen to me"


Who would ever thought, indeed.


Houston


Posted by: Houston at December 8, 2005 12:01 PM



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Image Boom Chuck Rock Now, February 27, 2004

Reviewer:Denise (Mason) Gregory (Portland, OR United States) - See all my reviews
I had moved away from Portland in the late 70s and missed the beginning of Billy's career rise. I came back to Portland in 1985 after college and I met producer Jan Baross, who was in the process of making a KOIN-TV documentary about Billy and she asked me to help. It was through that process that I came to know Billy's music. At that time he was working on Flesh and Blood, but Jan shared Boom Chuck Rock Now with me. I was amazed at how different the two albums were, but they were both excellent. I know many people think Billy was full of himself, but his cancer humbled him. I had a couple of good chats with him before he died, and the person I got to know was not vain or self serving, he was a beautiful soul. I recommend all of Billy's albums. They are all unique and that shows what a talented artist he really was.



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Image A Goddess' Perspective, December 26, 2001

Reviewer:Celeste (Fairbanks, AK USA) - See all my reviews
I danced to these songs with the band as a Goddess a Go-Go hundreds of shows. We had so many great times... Rockabilly Queen busted my butt though!

Billy's music on this compilation was (and is) joyful, pleasant and uncomplicated. I loved it then and miss it now.

I was shocked and moved to know it is still marketed... pulled it up via a Google search. This says to me enough other people are moved by Billy's music that it is still being produced. This is profound in that it means Billy continues to live and that is all he hoped for as his health deteriorated.

Anyway, I only got one copy of the album (yes, that's all any of us got in the band without paying for them) and I left it in the backseat of my VW... it warped right after the release party at Lung Fung.

Twenty years later, I finally can get a copy on CD and listen to it again...after all these years.

Thanks, Amazon. This is very cool!



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Image Billy lives, December 16, 2001

Reviewer:"call-me-ishmael" (Pacific Grove, Ca.) - See all my reviews
I too own this on vinyl. bought on a sunny day from Music Millenium back in, maybe, '83?

It is a sunny, upbeat happy album from Billy Rancher and the Unreal Gods' glory days as the premier rocking good time

Portland dance band. I and others were damned lucky to be at any of the many shows at Luis La Bamba's at midnight when Billy would come out for the last set, dressed in pajamas and launch into his signature songs. Billy had the best vibes and his band loved to play up until the final moment before the Marshalls would threaten to shut the sound down.

Why Rocky Road did not become a hit for the band I do not know. It is prescient to listen to now, given Billy's life and death struggle with the cancer that elevated him to Avatar status before killing him. He had no idea of the Rocky Road that awaited him, a Rocky Road that it would have taken the rocks from four Golgothas to pave.

The album is worth buying for that one song.



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Image I'm Walkin' Down a Rocky Road For You ..., August 22, 2001

Reviewer:Sharon E. Cathcart "So many books, so little time" (San Jose, CA United States) - See all my reviews

(REAL NAME)
'Cause that's all that you left me to ...

I own this album on vinyl - acquired at the album release party at Lung Fung's Dragon Room in Portland, OR. I was a publicist and manager for some of the local bands on the scene in Portland at the time, and Billy Rancher's Unreal Gods were the creme of the crop. I still enjoy every cut on this album despite the number of years that have passed since its release. I must admit to a particular fondness for "English Boy" and "Rocky Road" above all the others. "Rude Buddy Holly" is a fun ska tune. "My Girlfriend's Drawers" is a good humored song full of puns and clever reggae breaks.

I was very fond of Billy and his music, and his passing from this plane was heartbreaking for me. Billy's music beats the tar out of any of the Northwest grunge bands that came up in the '90's. His untimely passing robbed the world at large of one of the most brilliant singer-songwriters I've ever heard. Don't miss this album.



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Image I have mixed reviews about this album, January 18, 2001

Reviewer:Eric Lom "EvL" (Denver, co United States) - See all my reviews

(REAL NAME)
I grew up around the Portland, Oregon area and knew Billy. That is why I have mixed reactions to this album. I own it on vinyl and bought as a joke due to the fact that i was mostly into punk and retro garage/psych stuff. So I had to pull out my album and listen to it again. Not too bad pop rock. It does bring back memories when girlfriends would drag me to some of his shows. BTW if people don't know Billy died in 1987 or so. Eventhough i didn't like the guy personaly, it was sad to hear about it. Died of some kind of cancer I think. It really surprises me that his stuff is still in print.

For the music review, He adopted a style called Boom Chuck Rock

from a local one man musician. He could write some catchy songs,

check him out out. EVL



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Image Gotta Have It!, January 5, 1999

Reviewer: A music fan

This album was released in the 80's and I loved it! The music and lyrics were ahead of their time. If Billy Rancher were playing gigs today, I have no doubt he would be a star. Go Go Boots are commin back...please buy this CD! You will love it. Thank You Amazon.com for having this CD.



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Image Billy lives, December 16, 2001

Reviewer:"call-me-ishmael" (Pacific Grove, Ca.) - See all my reviews
This CD does have a few great songs on it but it is not the CD of Billy that needs to come out. Why this was released while the world still waits for the all time great Billy album that will spin your head around and tear out your heart is a story of itself that I can only guess at.

Billy's songs from when his cancer returned for the 3d time and written practically up until his final dying breath, especially Chemotherapy (co-written with his brother Lenny Rancher), Here's to You, the Big Picture, and others on Mr. Groove, the tape he made as he lay dying, rank as some of my favorite all time music and it is a crime that it is not published and available. I have no doubts that someday they will be. Those songs need to be heard.

The songs on this CD, though essential if you ever saw and loved Billy simply because they are all you are going to get for a time, are mostly from record producers attempts to make Billy commercial.



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Image MADE IN HONG KONG, April 26, 2000

Reviewer:Russell Signalness (BELLEVUE WA.) - See all my reviews

THERE ARE SOME REAL GEMS ON THIS CD. "THE POLICE TOLD ME" AND "MADE IN HONG KONG" WOULD HAVE BEEN BIG HITS HAD BILLY NOT DIED. HE WAS THE BUDDY HOLLY OF THE 80'S.



Highlighting Lenny Ranchers Music (Billy's Brother...some good stuff here!):


http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/jlrancher


Here is Dave Stricker's (bass player) work, Post-Unreal Gods:


http://www.geocities.com/celestep2k1/daveStrickerBand_westinSong.mp3



Here's what Jon DuFresne (Lead Guitar) is up to:


ImageJon DuFresne. Billy Rancher discovered Jon DuFresne playing guitar in the Casey Nova Band at the Long Goodbye. Jon joined Billy’s Unreal Gods and became part of Oregon’s musical history. Today DuFresne plays in a Los Angeles blues band and returned to reunite with the Unreal G’s for the OMHOF Tribute To Billy Rancher.













No clue what Alf Ryder or Bill Flaxel are doing these days.



Billy and the man he was and became, touched me in a way few others on this earth have. He was a light from the first moment I saw his face. Billy deserved this story to be told again.


I hope everyone writes about the Billy's in their own lives. Thank you for reading!


The End.