Oct. 31, 1970: Billy Lee and the Bad Companions

 

        Turns out Billy Lee, the main man in this adventure, has a last name. It’s Huggins. He went on to have a long career. I got a glimpse of it at a site online under the headline: “Saranac Lake’s Original Rock and Roller.” The subhead adds: “From Rock N Roller to Holy Roller.”

        Another website offers commentary on an album he released in the mid 1980s and reveals a little more: “At one point he headed to Nashville to make it big, and wound up playing backup for a while, but mostly his career was spent in Clinton County, N.Y., where he led bands in the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s. … He was back in Saranac Lake by at least 1982, playing county fair-type gigs with ‘Miss Holly’ and a local guy named Carl Chiasson. Later on, Huggins got religion and started his own ministry, which included a self-released gospel album which he sold locally as a CD.” 

Oct. 31, 1970 

Slides From Rock to Country 

Billy Lee and the Bad Companions Eye Nashville Record Session 

        Lest it disturb Billy Lee and the Bad Companions, the dim afternoon sunlight tiptoes into the Aqua Lane Inn, oh so carefully.

        Burly Billy Lee lets the light burn through whatever his 2½ hours of sleep last night didn’t take care of. He steps up to the bar, musters a grin for owner Chuck (Red) Spencer and orders a glass of pop.

        “This here’s old man Adams,” Billy says by way of introduction. “The sourest man in town.”

        Red Spencer scowls for a minute, just so nobody thinks he’s getting soft. “Whatsa matter? Catchin’ up with you?” he laughs as Billy carefully sips his drink.

        Out back, a few boats bob quietly at the Aqua Lane’s docks – not many more boaters floating in this season – and over there across the Thruway is the Chevrolet plant.

* * *

THE BAD Companions – guitarist Jerry Sloman, drummer Sam Davis and bass guitarist Joe Pappagallo – choose stronger refreshment and razz Billy some more. He yields and then the stories begin.

        “I was in rock at least 14 years,” Billy says, “but I was always country oriented. Like Jerry Lee Lewis. When did I start playin’? Well, I got a guitar for Christmas when I was 12, went upstairs for five minutes and came down and played ‘Little Brown Jug.’”

        By the time Billy was 15, he says, he had his own rock band in the Adirondacks. In 1957, he signed a seven-year contract with a New York City recording company which told him, after he recorded four songs, that rock ‘n roll was on its way out.

        “They put those songs on the shelf,” Billy says. “They wanted commercial stuff. Like Paul Anka.”

* * *

BILLY LEFT the mountains after three of his musicians died in separate car crashes.

        “No, I didn’t think I was a jinx,” he says, “but I sure was runnin’ out of people to play with. Actually, I came because the money was better here.

        “I worked with just about every good musician in town. The Ianacone brothers, Bobby and Ray. The Chancellors. Commercial rock. Mostly I had my own groups, though.

        “Trouble is, you have to leave Buffalo to make it big. One of the best guitar players I know is working over there at Chevy. That’s the way it is.”

* * *

AT VARIOUS times in the mid ‘60s, Billy took bands from Montreal to southern Georgia. He wore out one Fender Telecaster and started in on another. What drove him out of rock was a marijuana-smoking crowd one night in Albany:

        “It was a huge place and it was just full of that smoke. There were candy bar wrappers all over the tables. That really got me and I was disgusted with the way rock music was going. Acid rock didn’t make any sense to me.”

        In Nashville, country musicians sing about being six strings away from the cottonfields. In Buffalo, Billy figured he was six strings away from the Chevy plant and he was all ready to sign up for the day shift.

        He was trying to sell his equipment when Sheri Lane, now singing with Lenny Nast, called and asked him to fill in with Ernie Weber at the Fairway on Sheridan Drive. He stayed with Ernie a year and a half.

* * *

BILLY’S SINGING now might remind people of Elvis Presley and there’s more rock harshness than country sweetness in his guitar.

        High point of an average night is “Bo Diddley.” There’s a verse to show what it is and then it takes off. Billy ranges from shuffling rhythmic swipes to Wes Montgomery octaves. Anything can happen.

        “The thing I like about country is that the words in the songs make a difference,” Billy says. “Country lyrics are more down to earth. Plus you’re playing for an older crowd and they’re easier to work with.

        “I found out one thing in country. You gotta talk to the people between numbers. You gotta make them feel at home. You gotta be more of a showman.

        “You know, there’s a big country music following in this town. There would be money too if the bar owners would be willing to pay,” Billy says toward the bar.

* * *

RED SPENCER frowns. Billy’s had seven months of Friday and Saturday nights at the Aqua Lane and he’s doing all right.

        “The booze,” Billy says, “doesn’t get in my way. Now you take Manfred the Wonder Chicken,” he picks up the group’s rubber chicken, “he used to be our bass player, but he stopped drinkin’ and he shriveled right up.”

        One old story leads to another. Wild driving. Pie fights. The time Dale Thomas (Joe’s brother-in-law) destroyed his “indestructible” guitar. The night Billy and the gang sat around a dictionary making up songs.

        “We came up with ‘To the Old Cat Give a Tender Mouse,’” Billy grins. “It’s about an old man trying to relive his youth.”

* * *

BILLY’S NEXT move is into recording studios. He hopes to get there twice next month.

        First, his new manager, Buffalo lawyer Kenneth Daumen, is backing him for a session in Nashville. One song will be Doug Kenny’s “The Revenue Man.” The other will be one of Billy’s. Either “I Can’t Forget Completely” or “Dr. Love and Patient Me.”

        Second, Billy says he’ll go to New York City to help Doug Kenny record an album there. Doug, another Adirondack native, was playing with the former Sound Tradition until a few months ago when he quit to spend more time writing songs.

        “You know what I’d really like to do,” Billy says. “I’d like to get a steel guitar, a piano, bass, drums, lead guitar and revive all the ‘50s stuff. Modernize it a little. I still got all that rockabilly in me, you see, ‘cause I started so long ago.” 

The box/sidebar: 

Mountain Man 

Pertinent and impertinent information about Billy Lee and the Bad Companions.

        Billy Lee, 28, lead guitar and vocals, grew up in Saranac Lake, married.

        Jerry Sloman, 29, rhythm guitarist, Burgard High School, Navy veteran, works as a salesman, single.

        Joe Pappagallo, 28, bass guitarist, West Seneca High School, works as a home repair contractor, married.

        Sam Davis, 32, drummer, Buffalo Technical High School, Army veteran, single.

* * *

BILLY PLAYED rock in the Adirondacks until 1963, then came to Buffalo looking for greener pastures. In 1967, he switched to country music, playing 1½ years with Ernie Weber (who called him the Tupelo, Miss., Flash) before striking out on his own.

        When he left Ernie, he took Sam with him. Sam, of Indian ancestry, played jazz for six years in Florida after he got out of the Army, gave up music for a couple years, then joined Weber.

        Jerry, who’s been playing an acoustic 12-string guitar since his six-string was stolen, has been playing for three years, mostly with Billy.

        Joe played rock with his brother-in-law Dale Thomas in the early ‘60s, gave up music for a while, then came back with Dick King’s country band. He joined Billy July 4.

* * *

THE BAD Companions comes from a song Billy used to do with Ernie Weber, Johnny Rivers’ “Muddy Water.” There’s a line in it that goes: “I fell in with bad companions.”

        “And that’s the truth too,” Billy grins.