Still Willin’

Lowell George and The Little Feat that Started it All

If someone says (and I don’t know why someone would ever say this):

“Multicultural, genre bending, classic jam band from California”

Who do you think of? Probably WAR? Sly and the Family Stone? Maybe Santana?

But how about Little Feat?

Though they never topped the charts, Little Feat has the unique distinction of being a very left-field band, populated by musician’s musicians and founded by a songwriter’s songwriter, that came about thanks to one incredibly well crafted and influential song that was never a hit for the band, but that sparked inspiration in several generations of musicians.

Now, if you’re a younger fan of Little Feat, especially the later incarnations, you probably know them as purveyors of an absolutely excellent fusion of New Orleans Funk, Americana, swamp rock, electric blues, soul and jazz, and you probably think I’m talking about Dixie Chicken.

But I’m talking about Willin’. And I’m talking about Lowell George.

Little Feat was founded by George, along with Bill Payne, Richie Hayward and Roy Estrada, in 1969. George was a LA native, and a member of Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention. And, as a decidedly western “LA Rock” scene started to incubate in the Canyons, on the Strip and out in J Tree, he was probably the most in-demand slide player in the world.

Now, there are three competing stories about the formation of Little Feat, but each one hinges on Lowell George’s composition of Willin’.

In the first story, George took his song to Frank Zappa as a potential Mothers number, but Zappa said it was too good and that George should form a band.

In the second version, George played the song for Zappa, who was religiously methodical and straight edge. Zappa kicked him out of Mothers for writing a song about drugs.

In the third varioation, Zappa kicked George out of Mothers for using drugs (and he certainly used drugs) but referred him for a contract at Warner after hearing Willin’.

In any telling, however, the key points remain the same. Frank Zappa heard this one song, and teed up Lowell George, and whoever chose to join him, for a record deal.

Now about that song:

Willin’ was released twice. The first recording, for Little Feat’s debut album, plays like more of a demo. As a guitarist, Lowell was sidelined for the Willin’ session with a hand injury. And as a vocalist, he still seemed to be developing the intricacies of the melody and style that would define the song. The arrangement on V.1 is sparse, the interplay and timing that the band is known for are not quite locked in. If I remember correctly, Bill Payne’s piano parts don’t appear at all. And though fellow slide impressario, Ry Cooder pinch hits an excellent lead part, it lacks the signature compression and sustain that were the hallmark of Lowell George’s playing. If you happen to mistake Lowell George’s Strat for a pedal steel on first listen, you’re not alone. The man invented a phenomenal style that is tough to duplicate, even today.

The second version of Willin’, recorded for Little Feat’s sophomore album, Sailin’ Shoes, is classic. The second album sold no better than the first, and not a lot of people heard it. Fortunately, however, all of the right people heard it, and Willin’ went on to become a standard cover for southern rock, country, and Americana artists, as well as one of the…I’m gonna say top five…truck driving songs of all time:

There’s Phantom 309, Six Days on The Road, Truckin’, Ive Been Everywhere, and, of course, Willin. Argue amongst yourselves.

As a composition, Willin’ isn’t terribly complex. It’s one, four, five, relative minor in G major. It’s verse, pre-chorus, chorus. But the style and touch are entirely unique. The guitar part, is, of course, key to the recording. The long and lonesome tones that both build and underpin the melody, combined with a unique brightness, create one of the great slide guitar parts of all time. Lowell George typically played in a modified open G (sort of an open A) tuning that allowed for very pronounced brightness. The intro part, in particular, implements some less common chord structures (the two finger hitmaker chords you may be familiar with in standard tuning) that can make a guitar sound like three guitars singing harmonies.

And it’s not just the guitar that shines. The arrangement fully displays the abilities of a band composed of of top tier session musicians. And this version of Willin’ is not just about which musician steps forward and which instrument pops out of the mix. It is an arrangement defined by conflict and tension. Bill Payne’s piano solo is a classic, but even in the solo movement, you hear the tension…the conversation and interplay between piano and guitar and between two complimentary, but competing band leaders who were, more often than not, at odds. Even Richie Hayward’s drum phrasing, in service to the song, is conversational, shuffling into what feels like 3/4 for just a moment before the chorus. That fluid chatter between all of the parts, combined with the particularly dynamic delivery…soft, loud, soft, slow down, brake, speed up…keeps the movements incredibly interesting.

The vocal delivery, and the lyrical wordplay are also pretty phenomenal, and are likewise defined by dynamics. Like all great truck driving songs, there is a talking verse. There are earnest, bare, confessional verses and soaring, layered choruses. And there are some of the best story lyrics in southern rock history. The lyrical theme relies on a tension of its own…sort of a proud/not proud juxtaposition. “I’m a drunk smuggler, but I get the job done in an age when no-goddamn-body seems to get the job done”.

When describing the lyrics, George stated that he drew on anecdotes he heard while working as a gas station attendant during college. He also revealed that several of the colloquialisms in he lyrics were transcribed from conversations with friends, specifically referencing a friend’s sister describing an old chair on her lawn as being “warped by the rain”. Man, we’ve all been that chair :) In any case, the lyrics come off exceptionally honest, conversational and unique.

And, though Little Feat never had a hit with Willin’, it did manage to achieve mainstream popularity with Linda Ronstadt’s cover in 1974. Of course, anything with Linda Ronstadt’s voice on it is a hit, but this one was special. Ronstadt and George sounded beautiful together, as those of us lucky enough to grow up in range of WHFS know well. The two also shared a brief affair, which was cut short (like a lot of his other short term affairs) when Ronstadt found out that he was married with children. There’s a lot of intimacy in that cover.

Since then, the song has become a thing of it’s own. Covered by The Byrds, The Allman Brothers, The Grateful Dead (for whom George produced Shakedown Street), The Black Crowes, Tom Petty and Jackson Browne to name a few.

Jackson Browne didn’t just cover Willin’, he was also a Lowell George collaborator and friend, having brought him in to play on a couple tracks on The Pretender. And Browne described Gorge (in as many words) as “a musical Orson Welles”. I think that’s a great comparison. He was a singular talent and a man of unchecked appetites. Brilliant, probably genius, enchanting enough to get away with all sorts of bad behavior, and willing to constantly test that theory with a glut of drugs, booze, sex, and food. Like Welles, everything that Lowell George produced was great, but he burned hot and wasn’t especially prolific.

In 1979, Lowell George’s appetites would finally get the better of him, but not before he wrote, produced and played on some of the greatest music of his generation, and not before he left a legacy of songwriting that continues to hit home for those of us who are “Still on our feet…and still…willin”.