A Conversation with Rick Richards
June 15, 2004
Q: You’ve already been complimented by Keith Richards, so I
don’t know where you go from there, but Eddy said you were one of his
favorite guitar players and that strikes me as a high compliment.
A:
Oh absolutely.
Q: How’d you guys meet?
A: I met Eddy in the late 80’s at Red Rocks, a venue outside of Denver. Eddy was playing lead guitar for Dwight Yoakum. He had taken Pete Anderson’s place and I was just amazed, first of all, that anyone could possibly fill Pete’s shoes, and how accurate Eddy was at replicating Pete’s licks, because I’m a big fan of Pete’s as well. And also how Eddy put his own twist on Dwight’s stuff and it made it a little bit edgier, a little harder, but still kept the traditional sound nonetheless. So I was hanging out backstage, talking to the guitar tech, who just happened to be a fellow by the name of Ted Newman Jones. Now Ted’s famous in guitar circles for being a guitar builder for Keith Richards, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan and several other luminaries. He was also the guy who was out with Keith on a ’69 or ’72 tour who was delegated the name, “Guitar Technician”. The story goes that they were trimming down the fat, so to speak, of people in the entourage and Keith said, “You can’t let this guy go. You gotta give him a title. Call him my Guitar Technician.” So Ted stayed.
Ted
introduced me to Eddy and told me who he was.
I’d known of Billy Joe, of course, because the Satellites in
the old days used to cover a lot of Billy’s songs.
I walked in the room, looked at him and said, “Oh yeah,
you’re your father’s son alright.”
You know the acorn didn’t fall far from that tree.
They looked a lot alike and had the same mannerisms and the same
kind of genteel southern charm. So
we talked a bit, but then I didn’t see Eddy for a couple years.
The
GEORGIA SATELLITES were recording our third record, IN THE LAND OF
SALVATION AND SIN, at Ardent Studios in Memphis.
A friend of mine was down there producing and we were talking
one night in a bar and he goes, “Man, there’s this band out there
called RT SCOTT AND THE DELTA REBELS.
You gotta come see this band.
They’re phenomenal. They’ve
got these two great guitar players and this one guy will blow
your mind.” I said,
“Well, who is he?” and he said, “Eddy Shaver.”
I told him that we had shared a gig together when Eddy was
subbing for Pete and my friend said, “Well, let me tell you, this is
night and day. You’ll
see. Just come to the
gig.” So we get to the
gig and my friend says, “And by the way, they’re louder than you
guys are.” I said, “Louder than the Satellites? There’s no fucking possible way, but I’ll take your word
for it.” The gig was
about twenty miles out of town, in one of those little cinderblock
roadhouses. It was really
kind of spooky. I walked in
just as they began their first song and the legs of my trouser moved it
was so loud. It was like a
wind tunnel of sound. (laughs) It
was insanely loud. But, it was very good music. The music was incredible.
It was kind of like LYNYRD SKYNYRD and ACDC, and nowadays like
THE DARKNESS perhaps—had this illegitimate child and it was that band,
you know? (laughs). But
they were really good. So I
talked to Eddy and hung out a bit, exchanged pleasantries.
The mutual admiration society began at that point and we kinda
kept in touch, here and there.
This is so incestuous it’s bizarre, because before the
Satellites became the GEORGIA SATELLITES. we were called KEITH AND THE
SATELLITES with Keith Christopher.
We started the band and went on for a couple years and nothing
happened—no record deals, just a series of faceless gigs, in faceless
nightclubs, for little money. Actually
some nights we’d walk out owing the bar money for drinking too much.
So Keith had gone off to London to pursue some musical avenues
over there, and I hadn’t seen him for a while.
Then he came back and had been in the States for a couple of
months and I talked to him and he said he was playing with Billy Joe
Shaver. I said, “Wow, I know his son.”
We were both astonished at what a great guitar player Eddy was
So every time they’d come to town or anywhere close to the environs, I’d go see them, and therefore got to strike up a closer relationship with Eddy. We’d talk about good music and guitars and bullshit. One of the last times that Keith was in SHAVER, the Satellites had flown over to Switzerland for a three-day festival and I’m sitting at the bar at this hotel, in the middle of nowhere, and I hear someone yell out, “Rick Richards! You owe me money, man!” And I’m like, oh shit! I turn around and it’s Eddy—in the middle of nowhere. I was like, “Where did you come from and why are you here, Eddy?” They were playing the same festival. Drinks were had by all and we just had a good old time.
I
had told my management and record label about Eddy and how much I really
would like to work with him in some form or fashion, whether it would be
just a session or whatever. Then the possibility came up to do a song for a movie
soundtrack. So my
management and his management got together and, per usual, when
management gets in the middle of things they fuck up. So Eddy and I
would talk on the phone about how this is gonna be fucking great,
we’re gonna make a little bit of money and we’re finally
gonna get to work together. 
So
I get a call from the powers that be and they’re like, “Well,
there’s a song we’d like you guys to cut.” And I was like,
“Yeah, great, what is it?” And
they said, “Well, it’s a cover song, a pretty popular song, you guys
will probably dig it.” I
said, “Yeah, well, what is it?”
They said, “It’s Sammy Hagar’s, I
Can’t Drive 55.” I’m
like, “Fuck! You’ve got
to come up with some shit better than that.”
They said, “Don’t you think you and Eddy could tear that song
up?” I said, “Look,
Eddy and I could tear up any song.
You’ve just got to find a better one than that.”
So
I called Eddy and said, “Look man, how do you feel about this?”
He goes, “Well, I need the bread.”
I said, “Man, I need the bread too.”
He said, “But that song…”
I said, “You’re right. What
little artistic integrity I do have, at what level I’m willing to
prostitute myself out at, I think I’m gonna have to draw the line at
that song right there.” (laughs)
He said, “I agree, man.”
I said, “Let’s just fuck it.
Something else will come along.
We’ll work together.”
Unfortunately, it never did. I kinda wish we had done it now. Just so we could’ve had our names together on something.
Q: I’m sure you’ve heard everyone, analyzed everyone, worked
with everyone, etc. What
set Eddy apart from the rest?
A:
Every guitar player has his style and technique and everything
analyzed to death, but in a nutshell, what Eddy could do was play the hell
out of anything he picked up. He
had a way with the acoustic, hard-core electric, slide, fingerpicking,
loud, soft, any distinct style that he approached he put that Shaver
brand on it. 
He had a way
of playing country that I used to call it just “evil”.
I told him, “Man, you play really evil country.
I mean, it’s sweet and everything, but when your dad’s
lyrics call for something to be a little hard-core, you’ll back it up
with a riff that poetically explains exactly what your dad said.
Or when your dad says something ethereal or spiritual, your tone
and technique fulfills that aspect of that lyric too.”
It was amazing how he could paint around his father’s songs.
And then when they’d let him go and turn him lose it was like,
man, it was like hitting a hornet’s nest with a rock.
You just better run for your life!
You get a flurry of notes coming at you and some of them are
gonna sting you. Some of
them might get past you, but some are gonna sting you and you’re gonna
feel it and you’re gonna remember it.
(laughs) He’s gonna leave musical scars on you.
And to come from such an unassuming, sweet man. He had an exterior that belied his intensity. He was soft-spoken, funny, yet deep inside you could tell there was a tumultuous thing going on inside him. All you had to do was listen to him play to understand where that was coming from.
Q: I know you play slide guitar.
What were your thoughts on his slide playing?
A: Well every time I saw him
play slide, I used to tell him I’m quitting.
I was like “Man, why? Why carry on?”
He had just about covered it all. Eddy played not only in open
tuning—which is my forte’ and I’m not saying it’s easy, but
it’s easier—but also standard tuning.
He could take standard tuning and put a slide on and do both
regular playing and slide playing and not miss a lick.
He reminded me of, like if Ry Cooder had a bad acid trip or
something.
Well Ry Cooder
probably had a few, but like if Ry Cooder had a bad acid trip and not
forgotten it and every once in a while would lapse back into it with
that intensity. I knew Eddy
was friends with Dickey Betts and was a fan of Duane Allman, who also
had that kind of touch too.
That kind of vibrato, that lingering, soulful, conservation of
notes. Almost like a
saxophonist to a degree, which is one of the most soulful instruments,
very akin to the human voice. He
had a way of doing that. He
could pull these long, lingering, soulful notes that reminded you of
somebody crying or singing in a real soulful manner.
He comes from the school of it’s just as important what you don’t
play as what you play. He
was real adherent to that school of thought, which to me always makes
for the best guitar players. Like,
“Shut up sometimes! Let
it breathe.”
Q: Did he ever talk to you about his approach to playing his
father’s songs?
A: No, not really. From the outside looking in, their relationship was more like brothers than father and son. You know like, “Shut up!” “No, you shut up!” “Let me drive.” “No, I’m driving.” (laughs) I know he had a great deal of respect for his father. I do know that. And Billy himself asked me, “What do you think of Eddy’s playing?” I said, “What’s not to think?”
I
remember the last time I saw Eddy.
They were playing here in Atlanta.
I had always gotten up and played with them, and every time I did
I was always sweating bullets, you know, having to follow him, having
to play up there with him. But
this time they called me up and I got up there and asked, “Where’s
my guitar?” and Eddy takes his guitar off and hands it to me.
So I’m the only guitar player up there.
Well, Billy’s playing his little acoustic, so I have to play
the only guitar there, after Eddy had played.
I said to Eddy, “You can’t do this to me, man.”
He said, “Yeah, go ahead man, I gotta go take a piss.
Go ahead and do a couple of tunes and I’ll be back.”
So we did “You Asked Me To” and “Long Black Veil”. My knees were buckling!
I was so nervous. I
don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous.
Q: I have a copy of that show (Smith’s Olde Bar 12/3/00).
I’ll send it to you. When
I first listened to it, I was like, “Man, Eddy is just going off!”
I don’t know how much you heard of Eddy’s introduction as you
were heading to the stage, but he said he had been emulating you all
night. So apparently it’s
because of you, brother.
A: Well, I was standing right in front of him and I think he was getting me back, you know? “Stand in front of me you son of a bitch and see what happens. I’ll show you a thing or two.” (laughs) And he did too. My jaw was on the floor.
Q: Yeah, he was in rare form.
A: That was the last time I
ever saw him play and I think
that was the best I ever saw him play.
It was so incredibly sad that that was it.
He died a few days later. It
was only a matter of days. I
couldn’t believe it. I
was just devastated, man. At
first you’re sad, then you’re just mad.
I just got so mad. This
guy that the lord had given us, got taken away so fast.
It just didn’t need to happen that way, you know?
I know he had a lot on his mind.
He’d had a rough year, I think.
Q: How was he doing in his last days?
A: He had a new wife.
He was happy, laughing. He
did mention the fact that he was glad to get back with his dad, because
his dad had a rough year. He
said he’d put the drugs behind him.
He asked me if I had ever dabbled in that stuff.
I said, “Well, you know, we’ve all had our moments.”
And he said, “Man, that shit’s awful.
I’m so glad I’m away from it now.”
I said, “Well, great! You
look fabulous.” He looked
great, played great. 
After the show we had a couple of beers and I took him back to
the hotel and I’ll never forget.
He was walking up to the lobby and he turned around and looked at
me, and gave me this strange wave goodbye.
And I was like, “Yeah, OK, see you next time.”
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a next time.
He had a big Texas grin on his face.
I’m sure he still does.
Q: Yeah, that death just didn’t make any sense.
He was so close to recording his second solo record.
Did he mention anything about it?
A: He didn’t talk at length
about it, but I was like, “Look man, I wanna be on it. Whatever it takes, you get me out there.”
He said he would.
Q: Did he talk about what he wanted for his future?
A: From what I got from him, he was just happy to be in this new
relationship with his wife. They
were giggling like little school kids.
I think that was just transcending into his music. I think he was generally excited about whatever venture he
would do next.
Q: Did you guys ever talk about influences?
Players you liked or didn’t like?
A: There were a lot of people
we didn’t like. He was
pretty honest about it and I was too, you know?
Because, I mean, you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting
a shitty guitar player somewhere in all the clubs we’d go to, all the
clubs we played, all the honky tonks.
And then again you’d see somebody who was totally unsung who
was just amazing. Guitar players are a rare breed.
You have the egomaniacs, you have the soft-spoken/self-effacing
people, you have the go-getters, and those who lay back and almost take
it as a hobby. Then
you have people who create a niche out of a whole plethora of guitar
players. People don’t
understand how hard that is to create a style out of twelve
notes—playing guitar is only twelve notes, let’s face it.
Like with Eddy, you can hear eight, ten, sixteen bars and know
it’s him. He had his own definite style and you know it’s him.
That in itself is a Herculean achievement, you know?
Q: This is a question I can only ask guitarists of your caliber.
Do you think Eddy was a musical genius?
A: That word gets tossed around
quite a bit these days. There
are a lot of different meanings. There
are lots of ways you can interpret and define “genius”.
To me, the genius of Eddy is that he had been doing it so long
and had definitely progressed from adequate to super-adequate (laughs),
but I think he still hadn’t reached his pinnacle.
I think he still had a long way to go—to find out more about
himself on guitar and the way he presented his own personal songs. I
don’t think he ever got the chance to express himself totally.
Even though when he did express himself, he was so much
more adept at it than 99.9% of every guitar player out there.
I think he was happy about his place in “Guitardom”.
He wasn’t lackadaisical about it.
Q: You think he knew how great he was?
A: Yeah. Hell yeah! Just
ask him, he’d tell you! I’m
just kidding.
Q: Did you guys ever argue Strats vs. Les Pauls?
A: Nah, man.
I can make them all sound like shit. (laughs) Gibson, Fender,
hell, they all sound like shit when I play them. Doesn’t matter.
Q: Do you write songs, by the way?
A: I write shitty songs.
Q: No, you’re a poet man. I’m serious. The way you answer these questions is not normal!
A: (laughs)
Q: Well, any last words?
A: Heroin sucks.
I hate that fucking drug.
Q: I know. But
it’s weird. So many of my
guitar heroes have written some of the greatest music under the
influence of that drug.
A: I know. That’s what makes it so good. It’s the devil’s playground though. I’ve seen it. Like you said, the best songs ever written probably, my favorites at least, my favorite albums I know, were written under its influence. But then again, I’ve seen it just fuck people’s lives up. I just hate to see that happen. You have to be real careful.
Interview
Conducted by LA Kranz
Special thanks to Rick Richards, Panhandle Pearl, James Odom, Michael Mastro, and Lorilee Maxim for handling coordination and sharing her personal photographs.
Learn more about Rick Richards:
Keith and the Satellites:
http://atlanta.creativeloafing.com/2003-02-19/vibes_feature.html
Georgia Satellites:
http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/georgia_satellites/artist.jhtml
Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds:
http://hem.passagen.se/snoqalf/art-1998-geffen.html
Michael Mastro—Photographer: