Triumph of the Williams
Mighty David E. Williams will forgive me for ripping off this title. Still can't believe I actually saw him live.
Anyone who follows my channels anywhere should know him by now. For all those who have missed it so far: David E. Williams is a distinctly underground ... well ... “alternative chamber musician” from Philadelphia. The “best known” projects he has been involved in are probably live support for the indispensable Blood Axis, the collaboration with his “namesake” Rozz Williams of (former) Christian Death—and for those who are way out there, Deathpile.
However, when it comes to Williams' solo music, which he has been recording and releasing since the mid-1980s, you usually need some kind of detour to get there. For me—and certainly not only for me—it was the legendary tribute sampler The Appeal of Discarded Orthodoxy, which was released in 2007, right at the height of my Neofolk phase. Some of the then fresh and hot scene projects were represented on it, above all ROME (whose work up to 2008 I still hold in high esteem today), Spiritual Front and Dead Man's Hill. Word soon got around within the scene as to which artists had contributed pseudonymously to this beautiful double album—minor scandals included. But anyone interested can research those for themselves.
In short: It was a pretty ideal sampler, still is, and after so many of the covered songs were such treats, I had to get to the bottom of the originals. Seek and ye shall find—and pretty quickly my favorite album emerged (Hope Springs a Turtle), although in the discography of David E. Williams there are weird little jewels in every nook and cranny.
Now this really isn't easy music, neither for the faint-hearted nor for the subculturally uninitiated. The cover of the above-mentioned sampler, which has also been available as a limited shirt motif, shows exactly what kind of humor and previous education you should bring with you ...
Anyone unfamiliar with the infamous 1974 film Il portiere di notte will inevitably miss out on the actual content of “Sarah's Booted Boy.” And if you really want to understand the equally infamous “Wotan Rains On a Plutocrat Parade,” you should at least have a rough idea of what kind of fictional diaries a former physics professor published as a serialized novel in the mid to late 1970s. IYKYK ...
About two weeks ago, I finally had the opportunity to see this truly rare guest in Europe and especially in Germany live. At this point, many thanks once again to the organizers of “Vollgas Unterhaltung,” the innkeeper, and everyone else involved! Mr. Williams came, and he didn't come alone: The young German project Moineau was called up to support him. (Had I not neglected to inform myself in advance, it would have been clear to me at first glance which dear old acquaintance was behind that one, despite my lacking command of French ...)
Moineau offered just under half an hour of refreshing Neofolk in the more classic “campfire” vein. How a single person with a guitar can seemingly effortlessly weave polyphonic soundscapes with the help of a few foot pedals through live self-recording and looping was truly remarkable. This was followed by a short set change. And barely half a wheat beer later, the unmistakable rhythm of “The Curious Pediatrician” rang out to call the audience of around 50 people back to the stage.
David E. Williams offered quite a parade ride through old classics, rarely heard pieces and the latest works. From “Thumbelina Toad Slut” to “The Emperor of Ice Cream” and “The Ballad of Bob Crane” to “Get Me a Ladder,” to put it briefly. Then, however, fate struck—as is the leitmotif with Williams—and the keyboard provided by the organizer failed to work.
In retrospect, however, I would actually describe this as a stroke of luck, because it meant that we in the audience were suddenly handed a special treat. David E. Williams is not only an exceptional musician (and occasional dancer), but also a first-class entertainer who turned even this apparent disaster into part of the show with dry humor and unwavering determination. This allowed the show to continue (almost) seamlessly and gave us “karaoke” versions of a few more gems. I will always remember the truly moving rendition of “Do I Love You As Much As I Did When You Weren't Sick?”
All in all, it was a wonderful evening. It was more than worth the almost ten hours I spent traveling and I would do it again any time. Expense is no object. Anyone reading this who has an interest in truly unique, special music should definitely lend an ear to the friendly older gentleman from Philly!