Interview with RICHARD WILLIAMS (KANSAS)

June 2023

Unlike the intermittent timelines many of their contemporaries measure in jubilees, the circle of KANSAS’ existence remains unbroken for five decades now – a little hiccup in the mid-’80s can be discounted – and guitarist Richard Williams has been one of its guardians for all these years, his riffs and licks an integral part of the American ensemble’s unique sound. Commemorating the band’s beginnings, he and his colleagues issued a triple-disc titled “Another Fork in the Road” in 2022 and went on tour in the summer of 2023, and it seemed like a perfect moment to catch up with the veteran musician to take a look at the collective’s agenda that has kept them strong for so long – at their inner workings and the ties that bind them.

– Richard, the band are celebrating their fiftieth anniversary now. You surely didn’t plan to be playing for so long when you’d started. At which point did you realize that it was going to be a job for life?

Probably after thirty years it seemed like I had a full-time job. (Laughs.) It took awhile! It was fairly simple for us to have taken the next step forward, but suddenly it was the thirty years mark, and I didn’t want to do anything else, so I said, “How about we’re going back on the road?” “Yeah, okay, we’re going to continue!” It just kept continuing, and suddenly it’s been fifty years. I’m very grateful for it, and now it’s more of a plan than ever to keep going, whereas before it was just the end of a tour and you hoped you were going to go back out the following year.

– If you weren’t doing this, did you have a fallback job to take?

(Laughs.) No, there was no Plan B. When we started, back in the late Sixties, Topeka, Kansas was very musical. Like many people have probably told you, since THE BEATLES were on “The Ed Sullivan [Show]” everybody wanted to be in a band, and I was no exception. By the time I was in junior high school, I finally got a guitar and took a few lessons, and it was easy back then: the songs were easy, so you learned a few chords and you were playing with your friends. When you’re seventeen, eighteen years old, you have – at least, it was like that for me – no concern of your future. I didn’t care: that was somewhere way down the road. There was nothing heavy about it, nothing deep – it was fun! Hanging out with my friends, playing music – and playing at the school dance or in a bar was a way to earn some extra money. I enjoyed the camaraderie, enjoyed being part of something. Practicing by yourself is okay, and it’s going to be necessary evil, but making music with your friends is a very special thing. So just in the joy of doing that, it’s suddenly fifty years later, so now it’s too late for a Plan B. (Laughs.) This is what I will do until I can’t.

– Back then, when you started, you looked just like Leslie West. Did you model yourself on him?

Oh no. It’s just that people who have straight hair want curly hair, and people with curly hair want straight hair. My hair were curly and red, that was just what came out, and I’m a big guy so I understand the comparison and I don’t disagree, but it was not intentional. (Laughs.) MOUNTAIN was a very well-known, successful band at the time, and Leslie West was the figurehead of that band, and we were a cover band back in the old days, so we played a lot of MOUNTAIN songs. Leslie West’s was one of the sweetest tones of all time – what a great sound he had!

– I looked up the population of Topeka, and it’s still a small city. How could this big sound of yours – what they call progressive rock now – be born there?

It’s not all that complicated, really. In the neighborhood where I grew up, there was a garage band – there was a garage band on every block – but in the late Sixties and early Seventies, our peers were all of college age – their parents said, “You need college. You need to have a career in mind!” – and they just wanted to play the “Holiday Inn” lounge, because they could leave their equipment set up in the corner and they didn’t want to travel. So we became kind of the last guys standing that wanted to take this seriously; plus, we had been playing the Top 40 music of the day, we’d done that, and we could interchange parts with other bands as we were all playing the same material, so we didn’t want to do that anymore. We were the guys who wanted to start writing our own, original songs, and I think what drew us together the most was that we didn’t just want to write songs – we wanted to write songs outside the box. We wanted to write a lot more original material than the stuff that was coming out of Britain and Europe – what, like you said, was now called progressive music. We learned a lot from that, but you don’t have to work within the confines of this little box: just step outside the box and do whatever you want.

Me and bassist Dave Hope had played in a lot of soul bands, and we played some Motown; we also played a lot of Mitch Ryder and THE DETROIT WHEELS and THE YOUNG RASCALS, that kind of stuff; our roots were more in the white blues type of thing. So we took the roots of how we played, and underneath our rhythm section – me, Phil Ehart, the drummer – was a very symphonic arrangement, but we were approaching it as a rock band, not as symphonic players or as jazz cats: we were still a rock band at heart, which made our sound a bit more aggressive – we just had more balls. That commonality that we had within the organization was really what created that. Plus, we had record stores and radio stations, and everything – even in Kansas! – so we were hearing the same new music that people were hearing everywhere else, and there was nothing we were lacking in inspiration. I think a good thing was that there wasn’t a whole lot to do, which kept us focused; going to a band practice was an exciting thing to do. We were born in that era, so it was how far we were going to take this. Once we’d got a recording contract to do the first album with Don Kirshner, we’d reached every goal we’d ever set at that point: we actually got to record an album, and we got to go out on tour around the country – we’d always wanted to just break out of the local bar circuit. Our goal had been met, and the next goal was to have a successful album, and our fourth album “Leftoverture” just exploded. so we’d reached far beyond the stars in our mind. But we were still young men and we weren’t worrying about our future too much: What am I going to do when this is over? We just kept continuing: kept touring, kept working on new material; we had some band changes, but that didn’t slow us down – we just kept going and kept going. Fifty years went kind of quick in one way – in other way, it seems like we’ve been doing it for 200 years. But I still love it!

– You mentioned successful albums. Could your success be measured by covers of your songs? For instance, “Dust In The Wind” was covered by such different artists as Sarah Brightman and SCORPIONS…

Well, it’s always very complimentary to have someone do a re-record of what you’ve done. Our “Wayward Son” has been done countless times. I saw FOO FIGHTERS playing at Wichita, Kansas about five years ago, and they came out and opened with “Wayward Son” – because they knew that they were in our turf – and I was very honored.

– KANSAS have a highly recognizable sound. How would you define your sonic identity?

A rock band at heart performing music often times not stylistically related to rock.

– So was the decision not to replace Robby Steinhardt from “Drastic Measures” on, for a few albums, aimed at harnessing the Eighties sound?

No. He quit, and we moved forward.

– But how much flexibility did you have with two guitar and two keyboard players?

There were a lot of notes to play, so it kept us all busy. We had our moments, but we were not a jam band. A symphonic structure doesn’t lend itself to much flexibility.

– How do you feel now being the only guitarist as opposed to the usual twin setting?

I enjoy and am welcome to the two guitar approach, but over the last fifty years I’ve spent more time being the lone guitarist for the most part. It’s familiar. David Ragsdale always played guitar also, when needed, and is an excellent guitarist. David’s replacement and newest addition, violinist Joe Deninzon, also plays acoustic and electric guitar as well as mandolin.

– As for symphonic sound: how fulfilling was it for you to work with orchestras on “Always Never The Same” and “There’s Know Place Like Home” projects?

We has gone through a period where Steve Walsh and Kerry Livgren were the main songwriters and neither one of them wanted to write anymore for the band, so we wanted to do something different creatively instead of rehashing the same thing, and if that wasn’t going to add any music what could we do? And that’s when we got this idea. Our stuff would lend itself to the symphony anyway – we’ve always been very symphonic – and we got to talk with Larry Baird, who was the arranger and conductor with THE MOODY BLUES among others, worked out a deal, he wrote the scores, and we started performing with symphony orchestras. We did that for a year or more and then we returned to that, but we began to play with college symphonic orchestras all around the country: in part, that was because in colleges the arts aren’t as funded as, let’s say, football teams, and when we worked in conjunction with their orchestras we would forward them the scores and they would make it a part of their curriculum – they would prepare for this concert, and all the proceeds were going back to the arts department at that particular college. It was our way of giving back, and more than a few times the head of the music department would say, “You saved our program for at least another year!” That was very rewarding, and a fun thing to do. I don’t know if I want to do it again, but, as I learned, never say never, because it seems like we do tend to go back to that from time to time. But it’s an expensive endeavor to tour with a professional symphonic or philharmonic orchestra. Working with college kids was great, though, because they don’t require any payment. (Laughs.)

– You toured with QUEEN and YES whose symphonic sound correlates with yours. But what was the most incongruous pairing you’ve been in?

I’m searching my memories of all the bands we’ve shared the stage with, and to be honest. I can’t think of any band we didn’t get along with. There were probably a few times where the musical pairings were not ideal, but we made it work.

– Your albums had been produced by the band, by Jeff Glixman – whose career you kickstarted – and by Bob Ezrin. How different were approaches to sound in each case?

Jeff was our close friend and former band mate who evolved into live sound specialist and the person we trusted over any outsider. He had a natural ability to embrace and excel as an engineer, and had a really good ear for what worked and what didn’t. He also excelled at working with vocalists. Working with Bob Ezrin was an honor. Bob was in total control, but was never a jerk about it. Bob is an idea guy, and with all his experience he never was lacking in ideas or opinions. I loved working with Bob – much respect to him.

– As you said, Kerry and Steve used to be the principal writers. When they left, you cowrote most of the tracks on “The Prelude Implicit”: was your input stifled by them before that?

It had been over forty years of being involved in this process, and we wanted to make a record – essentially to keep ourselves relevant in our fans’ eyes, so we just started to work on it: we didn’t know what we were going to come up with, we didn’t know how it was going to work out. But we worked with Zak Rizvi – we wanted him to engineer and produce it, because we’d worked with him before; he was an engineer on a live symphony project [“There’s Know Place Like Home”] – and when we started working on material we found out, in a hurry, that he was a tremendous songwriter. (Laughs.) and not only was he good at it, but he was very good at writing songs that we could connect to, that seemed like the next logical progression of a next KANSAS album. And so Phil and I were kind of guiding the ship – you know, this works and this doesn’t – and we came up with two great records with Zak [“The Prelude Implicit” and “The Absence Of Presence”] but, unfortunately, he decided to leave after these two albums. He was a very essential part of it all but, the lesson learned was, we can do this without Kerry and without Steve.

We know what KANSAS is and we know what KANSAS isn’t, and so, hopefully, in 2024 we will record another record. There’s a few songs in the can now, and they’re very good, interesting songs that are, again, in the KANSAS mode. My job in a lot of this has always been, “This part isn’t working here – it doesn’t feel like us. What if we did this instead?” Just kind of guiding the songwriter along the way at times, because I was there from the beginning and I know what KANSAS music is, and sometimes they bring in their own influences that don’t quite match up to that. And again, there’s so many bits and pieces that I write. “We need a segue here. How about this?” or “We need a middle section. What if we go here?” It’s more attempting to fix what I think is wrong, attempting to fix what I think is missing – “At this point, let’s do this instead” – when the nucleus of the song would already have been presented.

– Most of “The Absence of Presence” was composed by the latter-day members. Was that an attempt to modernize the band?

Actually, it was more of an attempt to get back to where we came from.

– Except for yourself and Phil, and maybe Billy Greer, the band members lately became almost anonymous to a casual listener. But then you brought in Tom Brislin and, now, Joe Deninzon – two rather known personalities. Was it a conscious move with a prospect of making the line-up more recognizable?

No, you start from the purely musical point of view, but eventually you have to bridge that gap between personalities, because this guy could be the greatest bass player that ever played, but if he’s a jerk you can’t get along with, it’s just not going to work out – it’s like having a thorn in your toe: having someone who is dysfunctional within your organization makes your organization falter – so we have to make sure that the personalities are compatible. I don’t know that anybody could not be compatible with Tom or Joe: they’re just very good guys – they’re dedicated, they’re hard-working, very conscientious, with good sense of humor – they’re ideal band mates! (Laughs.) And that is important, because you spend a lot more time with them than you do with your loved ones; we’re all one big happy family out here on the road

I met Tom at a prog fest, when he was just about to go out with YES, and I thought, “Wow, this young guy is replacing Rick Wakeman on the ‘Symphony’ tour!” And he was just a nice guy, so I was very impressed. Then, we had a line-up change – David Manion, who was playing with us, was our lightning director and we moved him over keyboards, left us – and we needed a keyboard player. It was Thomas Waber from Inside Out Records who suggested Tom. He said, “I know a guy that may be good,” and I thought, “He can’t be available! He’s worked with Meat Loaf, worked with BLONDIE [with Debbie Harry. – DME], worked with YES. He’s got to be busy!” But we contacted him, and he was available! We were lucky that we stumbled on to this. Tom’s a great lyric writer, a great songwriter, a tremendous player, and he’s a nicest guy who you’d ever want to meet. He’s been in the band for the last five years or so, including two Covid years where nothing happened.

Then we came to a point with David Ragsdale, who had to retire for some personal reasons. But try to replace a rock violinist. You can throw a rock with a blindfold on and hit a great guitar player in the face (laughs) – there’s a lot of guitarists that are better than me and that would love to take my job – but a rock violinist is really hard to find. But Joe lives in New Jersey where Tom does, and Tom was friends with him, so Tom made a suggestion: we should try Joe. So we got talking with him to get to know him, and he turned out to be a heck of a nice guy. And his family background is incredible – he comes from a lineage of concert violinists, and his wife [Yulia Ziskel] plays with New York Philharmonic. He’s arranged strings and played on a couple of hundred albums, has album of his own, has his own band… He also plays guitar, which is very helpful. We had rehearsals, and he showed up prepared – he knew everything! Our first show [with Deninzon] was just last weekend, in Pittsburgh, which is one of the most important cities for us, because that’s probably the first city that took us seriously – and Pennsylvania in general – and he just nailed it. We hated to see David go – we love him and we were sad that he had to move on – but we have to compartmentalize it, and we have to celebrate Joe, because Joe’s enabling us to continue on. Also, he’s a writer, so it just makes the next album project a lot more interesting. So we’re back at it, doing the fiftieth anniversary, and to be honest, there is no plans for the end of this.

– Were there any reminiscences or rediscoveries while compiling “Another Fork In The Road”?

Not so much rediscovery, but this compilation and tour have provided the perfect platform for us to bring life back into a few songs that were far overdue to be performed once again.

– But what dichotomy, as hinted at by the comp’s title, is there?

Simply put, in fifty years there have been many forks in the road. The business has changed. The members have changed. The reasons to continue have changed. The love of continuing has not. The need to see what’s around the next corner is an underestimated quest that must be followed.