Simply Complicated

I met Bill Withers in 1999 at The Sunset Room in Hollywood when my good friend Bill Hammond brought Bill in one night to our just-opened restaurant and club. I was thrilled of course to meet the man whose songs half the planet knew all the words to. With my non-singing voice, I found Bill’s key close enough to my own so that I could sing along riding the coattails of his notes. When both the artist’s tone and lyrics resonate, singing at the top of my lungs cruising along on PCH or any open roadway is pure bliss. My dad had a saying passed on to me, and from me to my son Bryce, about this particular joy when he’d ride around in his favorite “Short” listening to Miles, proclaiming “I wouldn’t want to leave here to go to heaven”.

Bill Withers’ music resonated that way. Beautiful, simple, elegant, relatable lyrics, delivered with a unique sincerity all his own, backed sparingly but effectively by musicians playing instruments. In the twenty years since meeting Bill, I feel fortunate to have gotten to know the man. Musically these were not particularly productive times for him. The story of Bill turning away from recording is well documented. The Bill Withers I got a glimpse into was deeply contemplative, wise and no doubt bruised.

He loved his wife Marcia, daughter Korey and son Todd deeply. Bill was a devoted father to Todd, an extremely bright, capable, warm, beautiful young man. Bill once played a song for me he wrote titled “Father and Son” about the types of things most fathers get to do with their sons, simple things, Bill Withers type of stuff. His beautiful daughter Korey, “Korey Girl” as he’d refer to her, made his eyes twinkle when he mentioned her, which was every time we spoke. With his health challenges this past year, lovingly and devoted, Marcia remained steadfast by his side. We should all be so lucky.

Not able to drive these last few months, Bill Hammond would pick up Bill and take him for a haircut. Proud of you for that Bill, such a loving, kind gesture.

My good friend Adam Katz, “Uncle” Bill and I made a practice of getting together for lunch about once a month. Our lunch spot was Cecconi’s in West Hollywood. Adam and I loved those lunches. There wasn’t an off-limits subject and at times, we’d go deep. Bill was so generous with his wisdom. We’d laugh, poke fun at one another, complain about our backs, hips, and other parts. Often Bill would keep our server at the table a bit too long, though hard to resist his charm when he called her “Sugar”. Adam and I, at the invitation of Bill and Marcia, got to sit at their table in New York City when he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I’ll certainly miss seeing his name pop up on my phone and hearing his voice “Hey Bud” when I’d eagerly answer. An insightful, gifted conversationalist and patient listener, he’d often contemplate for a minute before responding, choosing his words carefully. His spoken sentences could just have easily been lyrics in a Bill Withers song.  After a particularly difficult breakup, Bill offered his insight in my struggle to heal emotionally, “as far as you went in, you have to come the same distance to get out” followed by “it’s simply complicated”.

You were as simply complicated as a man could be Mr. Withers. We’re all still leaning on you, now more than ever.

My deepest condolences to Marcia, Korey and Todd.