Sons of Bill

City Paper featured Charlottesville, Vir.-based rock quintet Sons of Bill in the music section this week as the band headed to the Windjammer on the IOP for a set on Thurs. Aug. 6. Led by singer/guitarist James Wilson, the band played to one of their biggest local turn-outs yet. The band recently released a 12-song album titled One Town Away.

City Paper classifieds account exec Shelby Tamres was there:

"The Sons of Bill show at the Windjammer on was a blast," Tamres reported on Friday. "I don't think I've seen the place as packed as it was on a Thursday night. They played Charleston, and it seemed like everyone was singing along ­— but no 'jean skirt jezebel' song. Most of the Windjammer staff that wasn't working was at the show. There was even the requisite 'that guy' — wasted, stepping on people, dancing like a loon, pumping his arm in the air ... when he could stand up straight."
- Charleston City Paper

Sons of Bill

These guys won our album of the week awhile back and for good reason. Their brand of alt. country falls somewhere in the Chris Knight- Tom Petty neighborhood, packing hard lock stories with just the right amount of rock n roll. One Town Away is the follow-up to their 2006 debut A Far Cry from Freedom. It was produced by Jim Scott, whose pedigree is only slightly ridiculous (Wilco, Whiskeytown, the Jayhawks, Wilco, Tom Petty, Kathleen Edwards, Tift Merritt, etc, etc).

The whole album is great, but the lead off track “Joey’s Arm” is the one I continue to come back to time and time again. The lyrics get me every time, “Joey’s arm has two tattoos/ stars and bars and born to lose” and a chorus of “the dirt underneath the methadone and concrete/ has got to be more than dust and bones/ ‘cause the South ain’t gonna rise again but we’re holdin’ out for Jesus/ or so they say on AM radio….and won’t someone turn on AM radio”. - Twangville.com

The doors open at 8pm and, half an hour later, only 20 people or so circle around the line of cocktail tables at the rear of the Satellite Ballroom, or step over to the bar to grab a Kalamazoo Stout or (in the case of one festive audience member hoping to spite the weather with lighter beer) a Dos Equis, opening tabs beneath the plastic snowflakes that sway over the bartenders’ heads. Better to start early.

According to a news update on the Sons of Bill website, the band claims that it set a bar sales record at Starr Hill Music Hall during their first anniversary show on December 22, 2006. Old C-VILLE music columnist Spencer Lathrop wrote of the same gig that it “felt like the presence of a ‘scene,’ like Trax ’92 or The Hogwallers ’99.” One year later, both claims stood to be challenged: Could Sam, James and Abe Wilson, the sons of UVA professor Bill Wilson, prove that their scene’s longevity and fish-in-water drinking ability were alive and well?

A buzz from behind Worrell’s core audience starts to grow halfway through her set, but your reviewer doesn’t turn around, opting to watch Sam Wilson join Worrell on stage for a weepingly bent-stringed solo in the midst of a song. The other Bills step on for the following number, Sam Wilson’s reverb-slick guitar lines moving from glittering arpeggios to playful country rock riffs.

Worrell wraps up her set and steps offstage, and your reviewer turns halfway around to follow their path out the door when he stops: The 20 or so people in the Ballroom is now 10 times larger, the buzz between Worrell’s songs a steady clang-cheer-crash of bar noise and anticipation, spiking only when James Wilson, the lean, dark-haired lead singer of Sons of Bill steps onstage. “Been too long,” he says with a grin, jaw tight, his brothers taking their spots on either side of him. “Mind if we open up with a new one?”

In a moment’s time, the table in front of me holds six empty cups and three empty bottles, dropped by crowd members that rush forward to crowd the band, and I have my answers. In two years’ time, the Sons of Bill have penned at least a few irrefutably catchy singalongs, topped by the honky-tonk march “Roll On Jordan,” with its brilliant “Hey, ho, let it go/ You’re either gonna die young or live to grow old” hook. And everyone in Satellite seems to know the words.

Sam Wilson is the obvious architect of the band, his firework arpeggios alternately arching low overhead or soaring high to burst into crackling flames, anchored by bassist Seth Green (equal parts the band’s spirited center and metronome) and tempered by Abe Wilson’s intuitive keyboard fills (somebody give this kid an upright piano to round out the country rock sound!). The whole band double-times the ends and bridges of a few songs to keep things interesting, and James Wilson is a blast, preserving the Newman-esque manners to match his good looks onstage, even after the ripping “Lost Love and Indie Rockers,” a joking cattle prod at hip-to-a-fault music snobs that sounds like Son Volt’s Jay Farrar singing over the G-riff in Everclear’s “Santa Monica,” apologizing later for his swearing but crooning “You’re so fuckin’ cool” during each chorus with all the conviction of a Hank Williams fan drunk at a karaoke bar.

I turn and catch Terri Allard bobbing her head next to me, still going strong halfway through the Bills’ set along with what must be 300 people, and it seems a confirmation of the whole night, a sign that, despite UVA students gone for the holidays and families nixing nights out for family plans, the Sons are here to stay. “This?” Allard cries halfway through the band’s set. “This is fun.” Couldn’t agree more, I think, as James Wilson turns to Sam and yells “C’mon, big brother.” - C-Ville

Bill Wilson is either a very lucky man or the world's greatest dad. As a tribute to their father, sons Sam, James and Abe formed the band "Sons Of Bill." The three Wilson brothers joined with bandmates Brian Caputo and Seth Green to create "One Town Away," which is one of the best Americana albums of the year.

Besides bucket loads of talent, the band members obviously have no shortage of persistence. After sending demo recordings to producer Jim Scott (Whiskeytown, Tom Petty, Wilco), the famed engineer for Rick Rubin called the Charlottesville, Virginia band to offer his time. The result is a tightly produced, Americana gem.

"One Town Away" begins with "Joey's Arm," which is a hard-luck song in the vein of Chris Knight. The pace picks up with the breezy "Broken Bottles" The lyrics are heartfelt, and the lead vocals have a charming authenticity. But the standout track on the first half of the album is "The Rain," a hard rockin' cut that shows the "Sons Of Bill" at the height of their musical powers. However, it is "Rock And Roll" where the band proves that they can drive an audience wild, and this cut is sure to be a concert favorite.

The biggest surprise of the album is "The Song Is All That Remains" which offers reflective lyrics and a passionate vocal performance. The Wilson brothers' father, Bill, teaches philosophical theology at the University of Virginia, and his influence has obviously allowed the band members to reach deeper inside themselves than most musicians in their mid-to-late 20s.

The best song on the album is the classic country track "Charleston," which offers perfect harmonies with a Red Dirt edge. "Charleston" deserves to be a country chart hit. "So Much For The Blues" and "Going Home" should be released to Red Dirt and Texas Radio and also have major chart potential. "Western Skies," "In The Morning," and "Never Saw It Coming" are also exceptional tracks.

Sons Of Bill hail from one of the most historic areas of the United States, and the band's music on "One Town Away" brilliantly chronicles life's daily struggles with a clear artistic vision. "One Town Away" is a must-buy for any country or Americana music fan who enjoys a youthful spirit combined with a respect for the past. This historical reverence is proven in the lyrics of every song, but it is most poignantly conveyed by the Wilson boys lasting tribute to their dad in the band's name. Long live Bill Wilson. And long live the Sons Of Bill. CountryChart.com - CountryChart.com