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Since my post on the new Kansas guitarist seemed to create some life,
here's another tidbit to chew on. This is an interview of Rich Williams
by Howard Johnson in the May issue of Rock Candy. That mag is hard to
get in the US, so I'll copy it here. Rich starts at the beginning, and I
learned some stuff I either never knew or forgot. I used OCR software to
convert it from a PDF some there may be some spelling and grammar and
formatting errors I missed. Here you go:
What was it really like to be in a hugely successful rock band at the
height of the 1970s classic rock boom? Kansas guitarist and mainstay
Rich Williams was right at the heart of the action and tells Rock Candy
Mag all about the wild ride he went on ...
THE 1970S. WHAT A glorious time to be a rock band.
It's hard to believe that 50 years have passed since the
middle of that marvellous musical decade, so given that
Rock Candy Mag has now reached the milestone of a
50th issue, it seems appropriate to revisit the era. And
who better to guide us through what it was really like to
be rocking and rolling in America back then than Rich
Williams, guitarist and the only ever-present member of
Kansas throughout the band's SO-plus-year history?
Williams knows what a lucky guy he is to have been
starting out in Topeka, Kansas in the early '70s at a time
when rock radio was just beginning to wield enormous
power and the be-denimed, long-haired youth of
the nation were determined to spend much of their
disposable income as possible on shiny black plastic.
"This is Kansas's 52nd year," the 75 year old tells me
when I check in with him at his home in the Banner
Elk area of North Carolina, right up in the Blue Ridge
Mountains. "And I really can't feel bad about the fact
that what we achieved in our '70s heyday is still what's
selling Kansas concert tickets today. When we put a new
album out our fans seem to like it, but nothing really sells
anymore. I can't possibly measure our last album [2020's.
'The Absence Of Presence'] against [the band's highest-.'
charting album] 'Point Of Know Return' [which rose to
number four on the Billboard US albums chart at the
start of 1978]. People went into record stores back then
and bought albums. Now there's streaming; radio is
all about pop, so Kansas hasn't been relevant since the
'70s. But there's nothing I can do about that so I don't
worry about it. We have a fantastic fans, and now
they're all bringing their children and· grandchildren to
our shows."
There's something else as well, though; something
that maybe nobody had anticipated with old-school
hard rock having been out in the commercial wilderness
for some time. And that's that suddenly all of the great
music we enjoyed in the '70s has finally gained some
modern-day cultural capital.
"We were playing a gig at Lake Geneva in Wisconsin,"
Rich tells me. "Outdoor thing. And there were all these '·
young teens standing at the front watching. Well, I had
to find what was going on there, so after the show I
went out to talk to them asking why they were watching
Kansas. They told me about this TV show Supernatural
[that ran for 15 series between 2005 and 2020]. I
never watched it at the time, but it was this gigantic
cult hit and every kid in the States between 10 and 25
watched it. Apart from the very first season, 'Carry On
Wayward Son' [Kansas' first US Top 20 hit in 1977, and
an undisputed giant of the classic rock genre] featured
in the last episode of every season. Then my wife and I
were watching this show Reacher last night, and what
do you know? They use ' ... Wayward Son' on that too. It's
incredible. These things have completely changed our
demographic, and all of it comes out of those early days
of Kansas. I'm very grateful for that. ' ... Wayward Son
and 'Dust In The Wind [Kansas's biggest US hit when
it made number six in 1978] are '70s songs that have.
1 created my entire life. My wife and I live in a beautiful,
gated community on top of a mountain with a nice home on two acres of land
and with a world-class golf course nearby. It's just beautiful here.
Over the years I've lost a
lot of money at the hands of unscrupulous attorneys and
promoters. not to mention going through two divorces.
When I went through the second one 15 years ago, I
was pretty· much broke. And still those songs from the
'7Os afforded me this place. Everything I now have was built
on the dedication to sticking with it. But it was
mainly built on the pillars of what ·we did as the original
six members [Williams, vocalist und keyboardist Steve
Walsh, guitarist Kerry Livgren, violinist Robby Steinhardt,
bassist Dave Hope. and drummer Phil Ehart].
Ah. those were the days, when a couple of hit rock
records could sustain you for life. It's clear that Rich
Williams has one hell of a story to tell about what it was
like to live through those outlaw times when the rules of
the mega music industry were being written by the main
protagonists as they went along. So what do you say?
Shall we just let him get on with it?
LEGEND HAS IT THAT A KANSAS DEMO TAPE
FOUND ITS WAY ONTO THE DESK OF MUSIC
MOGUL TV EXECUTIVE, AND LABEL BOSS DON
KIRSHNER BACK IN 1973, AND THAT THE REST
IS HISTORY. ..
"True, but of course there's a bigger story behind that.
We were known as White Clover at that time, and there
was a biker bar called The Tiki Lounge that we used
to play in a place called Liberal, Kansas. It's almost in
Oklahoma, almost in Colorado, and about as far from
Topeka as you can get while still being in the state. Now
this place was rough. There was a dumpster behind the
bar and these hardcore biker guys would go grab a dead
rat from it, drop it in their pitcher of beer and drink it!
They'd guzzle beer and puke in the pitcher, then have
a puke eating contest. We'd be playing and the dance
floor would clear because
there'd be a knife fight.
Classy joint! But the bikers
took a liking to us for some
reason, which was a big
relief. So we'd played at
The Tiki Lounge several
times, and we'd found
out about a little eight track
studio in Liberal.
So we wound up going
there to record six tracks
for a demo. Back then,
everything was recorded
to quarter-inch reel-to-reel
tape, which was pretty
expensive. We didn't have
much money, and probably
only copied something
like five tapes to send out.
But we had a friend in
New York who'd called us
and said that he'd heard
Don Kirshner was running
this record company,
and he happened to
know somebody who
was working for him. He
said, 'If you send me a
tape, I'll take it over to
Kirshner's office on the top
floor of this Fifth Avenue
skyscraper.' He took the
tape in, they said, 'Thank
you very much,' and threw
it on top of a huge pile of
cassettes and then said,
'We'll probably never get to it.' We sent the tape off to a
few other record companies as well and promptly forgot
about it."
PRESUMABLY YOU THOUGHT IT WAS BACK TO TRAIPSING AROUND PLAYING BARS AS
USUAL ...
"That's right. We had this school bus that we'd load
up in Topeka and then drive out to play gigs all over
Kansas. Seemed like we were always driving out West
and playing the bars! Our bass player Dave Hope dealt
with all the local agents and club owners and would
collect the money after the show. We'd put Dave's wife's
phone number on the demo tape because we stored
our equipment at his place, and she would always know
where we were. One day we were playing a bar in Dodge
City, and after we'd finished our set the bartender came
up to us and said, 'You guys have a phone call from New
York.' So Dave went over and answered the phone, and
it was Kirshner's office. They said, 'We really like your
tape. We love the violin on it, makes it sound different.
We want to send somebody out to see you, so if you
could set up a showcase we'll be out in two weeks.' It
was like, 'Wow! Holy crap!' We were worried because
we weren't all that popular. We were only playing little
bars. But we knew of this cool old opera house from the
Wild West days in a small, small town called Ellinwood
in the middle of Kansas. You could rent the building for
150 bucks, so we thought it would be a good place for a showcase because
there
was a nice stage and a big balcony. So we booked
the Ellinwood Opera House. The problem was,
we weren't sure who was going to come to see us.
We weren't very popular and there weren't many
people in town. Suddenly, though, someone had
a moment of brilliance. We put flyers up all over
town. 'White Clover at The Ellinwood Opera House.
Free beer!' Now the guy who flew in to see us was
Wally Gold, a music guy who worked with Kirshner
as a kind of talent scout. I can't imagine he was too
thrilled about having to come out to Ellinwood in the middle of nowhere.
But the place was packed, people standing in line
unable to get in. We played and Wally was properly
impressed. I don't think he realised that the reason
why we went down so well was that everybody was
drunk on free beer! That's why they were so loud
and rowdy. But Wally called Kirshner and said, 'Man, there's really
something going on here."'
HAD YOU HAD ANY OTHER INDUSTRY INTEREST
BESIDES KIRSHNER?
"Not anything major. I had a high school friend in Topeka
and his dad was a local radio DJ playing '50s rock'n'roll
stuff. My friend started working at the station and Dave
Hope and I would go over there and hang out with him
while he was on the radio, take a case of beer and sit
there drinking and talking while he spun records. So of
course we took the tape up there and he started playing
it on regular rotation on his show in Topeka. That was
the first time I ever heard Kansas on the radio. Before
I was ever playing in a band there was a radio station
out of Chicago that covered the entire region. I'd hear
ads for live music. 'And tonight there's
a flipper dance at the Hollyhock Ballroom in Hatfield,
Minnesota.' There were these soul bands playing a
Midwestern circuit of ballrooms and large bars, seven piece
groups with three horns, bass, drums, a guitar
player, and a front man all in matching suits - and
they were travelling all over in a converted school bus.
There was something about that whole thing. I didn't
know what it was, but I knew it was my calling. It was
something I had to do. And I thought that if we could
just make an album, then maybe we could break into that
Midwestern circuit. That was our biggest dream, just to
break out of the bar band thing."
AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDENYOUWERE SIGNED TO
THE KIRSHNER LABEL ...
"And of course we signed a terrible deal because we
were young and dumb, and our only goal was to play
Midwest bars. We didn't even bother contacting a
lawyer! But the funny thing is that I'm not really sure
the people at Kirshner knew what they had on their
hands. They really liked the song 'Can I Tell You' from the
demo because the violin featured heavily and that was
really the reason why they signed us. Kerry Livgren had
joined the band not long before the Ellinwood show, and
we'd been working on a couple of his songs. But by the
time we got to actually recording the first album we'd
worked up a lot more of Kerry's material, which was a
lot weightier and more progressive than the stuff we'd
been doing before. I think Kirshner's people were pretty
surprised by the stuff we'd started doing."
YOU RECORDED YOUR FIRST ALBUM, 'KANSAS', AT
THE FAMOUS RECORD PLANT IN NEW YORK CITY ...
"And it was my first ever time in New York. What a trip!
Rick Derringer was producing a Johnny Winter album in the
studio next to us. Alice Cooper had
just been in there. Aerosmith were around, as was John
Lennon. There was just so much happening. It was a great
environment, and we'd never seen that kind of technology
before. Wally Gold was producing, and I think his main
job was to say, 'OK, that's good enough'. We had two
weeks to record and mix the entire record. But for some
reason that none of us could fathom, once Kirshner had
the album they sat on it for months. We'd changed the
band name to Kansas by then and had to set up our own
tour playing all over the state just to survive. But once the
'Kansas' album finally came out [in March 1974] pretty
quickly we were playing all sorts of shows; half an hour
and six feet of stage, no lights. But suddenly we were on
the road. We were a legitimate rock band with a record
out playing with other bands. It was very exciting."
WHAT WAS THE LEVEL OF TOURING COMFORT AT
THAT POINT?
"Before the Kirshner deal we'd only ever book one hotel
room with two single beds, and everybody would fight
not to have to sleep on the floor. Some nights we'd sleep
in the bus. But at the time we were young, and it really
was 'f*ck the future'. Nobody was concerned about that
because we were all going to live forever. It was all a great
adventure, so you really didn't mind the conditions. We
were having too much fun playing and the camaraderie
of being with all the guys and having a unified purpose
was intoxicating. We didn't have the money to go to
a restaurant, so we'd just grab a few essentials at the
grocery store. We were like pirates out on the open
sea conquering the universe, all for one and one for
all. But then once Kirshner got involved we had tour
support, so then we had a credit card and could rent cars
and stay in hotels. It felt like The Big Time."
DID THAT CAMARADERIE EXTEND TO OTHER
BANDS YOU MET ON THE CIRCUIT?
"We were very much in our own little bubble playing the
clubs by ourselves until we started working theatres.
That's where we came into contact with other bands.
Some were pretty distant and aloof, but some were
extremely friendly. Mott The Hoople were so cool. Ian
Hunter in particular really took us under his wing. He had
such a swagger and seemed so knowledgeable about
everything that he was doing. He gave us so
much advice and taught
Against all the odds Kansas celebrated their 50th anniversary in 2023
about attitude. We were in Cleveland one time staying at a place called
Swingos,
which was the rock'n'roll hotel, maybe even more so than the famous Riot
House
[real name The Continental Hyatt House] in Los Angeles.
Ian's record company had thrown a party there and he
and I went to the party together. Ian said, 'Ever had a
Quaalude? No? Try this.' And we both ate one and had
a marvellous time. I thought to myself, 'This is nothing
like playing in a bar in Kansas.' This was celebrity, and
I was hanging around with one of the coolest guys in
rock'n'roll, and he was really showing me the ropes. I'll
always hold Ian Hunter in high regard for being an early
mentor. He taught me about attitude because he had
this quiet, cool demeanour about him, but the minute he
walked in a room you knew he was the boss.''
ANYONE ELSE YOU REALLY HIT IT OFF WITH?
"I have really fond memories of the first tour we did
with Queen. When I saw their 'Sheer Heart Attack'
album cover I thought, 'Oh God, we're not going to get
along with these men wearing make-up and looking like
women. We're a bunch of Kansas boys wearing work
shirts. How can this possibly work?' But we really hit it
off from the get-go. They were on the rise but hadn't yet
exploded into the giants they became. They were broke
and in debt with their record company just like we were,
and so it was very easy to be friendly together. And they
were wonderful. We'd been a bar band arguing on stage
about what song we were going to play next, but we
really learned from Queen and Mott. We realised that
there had to be a show. We couldn't just be stopping
and tuning up between songs. Those bands taught us
how to take things to a more professional level simply
by watching them. That was our introduction to how you
had to act in The Big Time. Suddenly I understood how
you had to perform on stage. They were all great guys
and those friendships still exist."
IT WAS A SLOW CLIMB FOR KANSAS TO MAKE IT,
THOUGH, WASN'T IT?
"The first three albums [ 'Kansas' from 1974, 1975's 'Song
For America' and 'Masque' from that same year] all did
reasonably well. Don Kirshner was pouring money into us,
but we still hadn't really broken. I'm sure a lot of his New York cohorts
in the business were going, 'What the f*ck are you doing us so much
bankrolling
this band from Kansas playing all this weird music?' But Don said, 'I hear
something in them. I know it's going to pay off.' He really believed in us,
but it was an odd pairing for a guy who'd been heavily involved with
[manufactured '60s pop group] The Monkees. There's no doubt, though,
that without him we would never have made it.''
THERE MUST HAVE COME A POINT WHERE THE
PRESSURE TO HAVE A HIT WAS HUGE ...
"Don believed a hit was coming, but by the third album I
remember hearing him say, 'Guys, I'm a record company.
We need a hit song. We're running out of time here.' So
by the time we were thinking about a fourth album we
were definitely starting to feel the pressure that it could
be our last chance. We were still in Topeka at the time
working on new material in our rehearsal hall. And the
more we worked on it, the more we thought we had a
really good record, but we also knew that there weren't
any hits on it. It was a weird time because by then we had
a very large regional following. While we were working
on what would become 'Leftoverture' we headlined
the Kansas City Royals baseball stadium, a huge place
in Kansas City. We'd recorded the first two albums in
New York and Los Angeles, but there were too many
distractions there. So for the third record our producer
Jeff Glixman had found this really cool, really remote
place called Studio In The Country in Bogalusa, Louisiana
and it really suited us so we wanted to stick with it for the
fourth album. On the very last day of rehearsals before
we headed out to Bogalusa again to start recording
'Leftoverture', Kerry walked in and said, 'I've got one more
song.' I remember that nobody was very enthusiastic.
We'd already worked on all the material, and we figured
we'd just be going through a few of those things before
packing up and sending the truck to the studio. So we
didn't learn the new song. We didn't play any of it. It was
just Kerry playing parts of it for us - and that song was
'Carry On Wayward Son'. But the minute we heard
it we thought, 'Wow, this has got a lot of promise.'
It was time for us to head to the studio, though.
So now we're recording, trying to get the drum
and bass tracks down for every song. As Phil and
Dave got to the end of that process somebody
said, 'Well, we need to learn that new song.' So we
learned ' ... Wayward Son' in the studio, and once
we had the arrangement down we rolled the tape.
At first the song started with that little drum piece,
which was really only Phil setting a marker for the
time. This was in the days before click tracks and
it wasn't supposed to be on the final recording. So
we all joined in at that point and the basis of the
version that ended up on the record was just the first
one where Jeff said, 'That sounds good. I think we've
got a take.' So then we put on guitars and keyboards
and what have you before finally getting into the
vocal tracks. Eventually we started saying, 'This
chorus is very strong. What if we do it acapella at the
beginning of the track?' It was all very organic.''
SO DID YOU THINK YOU FIN.ALLY HAD THAT ELUSIVE HIT?
"Probably a little bit, but
the concern was that the song had so many parts to it.
There's the heavy riff at the beginning, then a half-time
section, then it breaks down into what's almost a ballad
feel in the first verse, the middle section is a whole other
thing, and then the ending comes with all those solos.
We knew it was interesting, and we knew that people
would like it, but it still seemed like a stretch to imagine
it as a single. Kirshner's people all wanted to hear stuff,
and I can remember us holding the phone up to the
monitors and playing • ... Wayward Son' - and they went
nuts over it! That's when they finally thought, 'Now we
have something we can sell .' When the album was done
they really got behind ' ... Wayward Son', and of course
that was back in the days of payola. They pumped a lot
of dough into that song to get it played everywhere and
get it going. And it really paid off. Suddenly in 1977 we
had a hit single and a platinum album."
YOU'D JUST TURNED 27 WHEN 'LEFTOVERTURE'
TOOK OFF, BUT YOU'D ALREADY PAID A LOT OF
DUES. WHAT DID IT FEEL LIKE SUDDENLY TO BE
SO SUCCESSFUL? DID YOUR LIFE CHANGE DRAMATICALLY?
"Not at that point, no. The
fourth album exploded, but
we'd signed such a poor
deal with Kirshner that
the band wasn't making
any money. We had a ton
of record company debt
and tour support debt,
and we had to pay it all
back. But what did start to
change was the balance
between the songwriters
and the rest of the band.
The band members who
weren't writers got 25
cents a record, and that
25 cents went towards
paying off our debts. But
the songwriters' money
was untouchable, so from
record one it was mainly
Kerry and Steve who
were getting royalties.
Fairly quickly they started
seeing some pretty good
cheques. And don't get
me wrong. They were due
that because they wrote
the songs. But still, there
was suddenly an inequity
within the organisation."
HAVING WAITED SO LONG FOR A HIT,DID YOU FEEL THE
PRESSURE TO REPEAT THE TRICK WITH THE
NEXT ALBUM, 'POINT OF KNOW RETURN'?
"For sure. We didn't just
want to have one big
album and then be done.
But when Kerry came up
with 'Dust In The Wind' I
think we all felt we'd be OK. The way it happened was
very similar to ' ... Wayward Son'. Kerry came in at the last
moment saying, 'I've got this song. It's not like anything
we do, it's all acoustic, and it probably won't make the
cut, but I want to throw it on the pile.' He'd recorded
himself on a reel-to-reel recorder, and he turned it on.
It was just him finger picking and I can still see it like it
happened only yesterday. Kerry and Steve were standing
side by side, and Kerry had the lyric sheet. Steve was
reading and Kerry was singing the melody in a kind of
poor falsetto. We were all standing around watching and
listening. When Kerry finished he turned off the tape
recorder and we just stood there in silence. Dave Hope
said, 'Where did that come from?' And Kerry said,
'What? You guys like it?' We said, 'That's our next
single.' Kerry couldn't believe it, but I heard it right then
and there. It just goes to show that a great song can be
presented as the highest quality demo imaginable, but it
can also be presented in a really elementary form. 'Dust
In The Wind' had the structure and the melody and the
lyric. We just knew it was going to be a hit."
HAVING SEEN THE FINANCIAL REWARDS THAT
WERE AVAILABLE TO THE SONGWRITERS, DID
THAT LEAD TO COMPETITION WITHIN THE BAND TO GET
SONGS ON 'POINT OF KNOW RETURN'?
"I think it did become
competitive, yes. It was
unsaid, but suddenly the
vibe was, 'Kerry and Steve
are the songwriters and the
rest of you guys just kind of
stay over there.' But other
people were starting to
submit ideas because it had
become very noticeable
that if you could add a part
to a song, then you'd get a
piece of the pie. It became
financially competitive and
then you'd get resistance
because people realized
that if someone else added
something, then of course
they'd end up getting a
smaller piece. Greed is an
ugly word, but it's probably
the right word. Greed
came into play. We had
girlfriends saying, 'Why
don't you write something?
How come they're making
all the money and you're
not doing anything?
You're just sitting there
watching television. Can't
you write songs?' There
was more pressure and
more competition to offer
something, sometimes in an unhealthy way. The song we
had might have been fine, but you'd want to change it just
so you could get your pittance out of it."
DID THAT SPOIL YOUR ENJOYMENT OF BEING IN
THE BAND?
"A little bit, but I'm not bitter about that. When
'Leftoverture' went platinum [in 1977) we finally broke
even with the record company. By this time people were
having houses built and were buying cars and boats. I
was still living in my parents' basement! But then once
everybody started making money, all became good.
That was partly because around about that time we also
hired a tour accountant. We'd been getting screwed for
years because promoters were very savvy at burying
costs. When we played the Royals stadium the place was
sold out, but the guarantee was all we made. When we
asked how come we didn't break into percentage, the
promoters said, 'Well, there are all these costs; the cost
of the stadium, the cost of security, all this stuff.' So when
we could afford it we hired an accountant who'd worked
with the Rolling Stones, and he was very sharp. Suddenly
we started making money on the road. Finally I went out
and bought a BMW, even if it was a used BMW!"
SO WHAT WAS THE CRAZIEST THING YOU SPENT
YOUR MONEY ON WHEN IT FINALLY STARTED
ROLLING IN?
"Honestly, I don't think
there was anything too
crazy. I moved into a very
ritzy apartment in Kansas
City, and whenever I was
in New York I used to go
to Manny's Music store. I
bought myself a Danelectro
sitar for 235 bucks, which
at the time was a lot of
money. I thought it was so
cool, but I never used it for
anything! Back then guitars
weren't considered vintage.
They were just used guitars
that you'd trade for a new
one. I had two '60s dot
neck Gibson 335s that I
traded in, and I just saw a
'70s Gibson that sold for 28
grand! Now I wish I'd kept
every guitar I ever owned.
I've got plenty now, but I
still covet the ones that I
stupidly traded for the
next bauble.''
YOU BECAME A ROCK STAR WHEN THE TERM REALLY MEANT
SOMETHING. DID IT FEEL AT THE TIME THAT
YOU WERE OPERATING IN A GOLDEN AGE?
"It didn't feel like that at
the time because we had
nothing to compare it to.
The music industry had really only powered up in the
'70s, and all of a sudden there was a huge amount of
money swilling about. If we'd known how things were
going to turn out with streaming, then maybe we'd have
thought we were in a golden age. I think what we did
realize, though, was that it was a golden age for music. In
the early '70s all of this progressive stuff like Yes, Procol
Harum, Jethro Tull, and Deep Purple was becoming
very successful. When we were starting out, that really
helped us shake off that club attitude of playing music
that club owners wanted to hear. We stopped paying
attention to all that, started thinking outside the box,
and started becoming ourselves. We stopped playing the
same three chords and singing about cars and girls. We
threw the rule book away and followed our own hearts.
And when things finally started happening for us and
we sold out Madison Square Garden in New York, I don't
remember us getting carried away because it had been
such a gradual build-up. We were in a limo on our way to
the show with our manager at the time, Budd Carr. and
Budd was beside himself. 'Madison Square Garden. Sold
out. This is so big!' But we were way more concerned
about whether our favourite deli, Smiler's, was going to
be open after the show so we could go get their killer
shrimp salad sandwiches! It's only with the benefit of
hindsight that I can see how big that moment was. But at
the time it was just another show."
WASN'T YOUR OBLIGATORY DOUBLE-LIVE
ALBUM -THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF
'70S MEGA ROCK STAR STATUS - SUPPOSED TO BE
RECORDED AT MSG?
"It was, but I'm not sure that
we decided to record 'Two
For The Show' to cement our
position as rock stars. After
1974 when the first album was
released, we toured non-stop
for four years and I seem to
remember that we decided to
put out a double live to give us
all a breather, give the writers
an opportunity to write more
material under less pressure.
So we selected three or four
places to record, and we were
supposed to record at Madison
Square Garden. But when we
got there we found out that
the union guys working at the
venue wanted something like
$75,000 simply to roll the cable
from the mobile truck outside
into the venue and plug it into
our front-of-house console.
You weren't allowed to touch
anything yourself. We said, 'No
way,' and simply didn't record
there. We ended up recording in places where the unions
weren't trying to gouge us."
THE LAST KANSAS ALBUM OF THE '70S WAS 'MONOLITH', WHICH
APPEARED IN 1979 AND GAVE YOU YOUR THIRD STRAIGHT U.S. TOP 10
STUDIO ALBUM. IT TURNED OUT TO BE YOUR LAST.
DESPITE THE FACT THAT THE BAND IS STILL ACTIVE
TODAY, AND HAS RELEASED 10 STUDIO ALBUMS
SINCE, DOES IT BOTHER YOU THAT MANY PEOPLE
WILL ALWAYS SEE KANSAS AS A '70S BAND?
"Well you can't deny that the '70s was our golden
period. At the end of that decade things were starting
to change. Suddenly disco was king, and we were
dinosaur rock. Radio was changing and the days of us
being relevant were soon over. Steve Walsh left [in 1981]
and John Elefante joined, Robby Steinhardt left at the
end of '82 after Dave Hope and Kerry Livgren became
born-again Christians, and then in '83 those two both
left because they wanted to be in a Christian band and
Kansas wasn't going to do that. Then in 1984 John left,
so suddenly Kansas didn't have a team to put on the field.
We were still signed to Kirshner, but they were now part
of CBS. Phil and I were called to a meeting with the head
of the label. He was very cold and said 'Guys, give it up.
Nobody cares. Promoters don't care, agents don't care,
we're not going to give you those records we owe you,
go find something else to do.' We limped away with our
tails between our legs. We were done. I moved back to
Topeka, went fishing, and played a lot of golf for a couple
of years. I thought I was retired, and I was OK with that.
I didn't owe anybody anything, I'd taken over the family
home, and I could live a meagre, quiet. peaceful life. But
eventually I got a call from Phil
asking whether I was interested
in giving it another shot."
THAT WAS IN 1985 AND NOW HERE'S KANSAS FULLY
40YEARS LATER STILL GOING STRONG ...
"Our fans were completely
ignored and underestimated
and taken out of the equation,
but what we proved was that
we had a tremendous fanbase
that was waiting for us to
do something. And since we
started back up, we really
haven't stopped."
YOU'RE STILL EXCITED BY
LIFE IN KANSAS, YES?
"Oh, I love it. I have a problem
with macular degeneration
that means I can't see so well
now. My wife has to travel
with me, or I'll fall off a ledge
somewhere. All my stage
guitars have lights on the neck,
which helps tremendously, and
we've got a great lighting guy
who really knows how to set
the lights so that they're hitting
just right. They're not blinding
me, but I'm not in the dark
either, so I can see my hand
and keep going. I don't know
for how much longer my eyes
will let me do that, but the
will is still there for sure. I'm
starting treatment for macular
degeneration next week, and
while you can't cure it the goal
is to stop it advancing. And if I can hold it at bay for the
next five years, then I'll be playing in Kansas on my 80th
birthday. Won't that be something? Kansas has been the
love of my life and I'm very proud of what we've achieved.
We're not in the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, but there are
plenty of unbelievable groups that aren't. To the people
who decide those things we're just a bunch of hicks from
Kansas who got lucky playing some pompous bullsh*t.
If we were inducted it would make me very happy, but I
don't need that to know what we've achieved. I've been
there for every second of it. I don't thrive on accolades.
But when I'm dead and gone it would be nice for my
grandchild to take her children to Cleveland and say, 'This
is what your great grandpa did.' But love Kansas or hate
Kansas, we have a legacy that is 52 years old. And drop
the mic ... I'm good with that."