Billy Lee Riley - Bio

BORN: October 5, 1933, Pocohontas, AR Billy Lee Riley is a rockabilly singer and multi-instrumentalist. An alumni of Sun Records, he was one of the most crazed, unabashed rockers
that label had to offer -- in the company of Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, and Sonny Burgess, that's saying a lot. Proficient at harmonica,
guitar, bass, and drums, Riley contributed as a sideman to many a classic Sun session, and his combo the Little Green Men (most notably guitarist Roland Janes and drummer J.M. Van Eaton) in time became the Sun house band. Riley recorded for a number of labels in a variety of styles, especially effective with blues. Though never commercially successful, Riley's Sun recordings of "Flying Saucer Rock 'n' Roll" and "Red Hot" (both covered in wooden renditions by Robert Gordon) remain landmarks of the genre.

In listing the names of the Sun faithful who toiled at 706 Union who could have been-and should have been-national contenders, several talented names come to mind and with them, perhaps very
plausible reasons why they never clicked with a national audience. Sonny Burgess had a booming voice like a tenor sax and a band that absolutely burned, but his wild-ass stage show just couldn't be successfully translated to records. Warren Smith had the voice, looks and will to succeed, but was just too country to make the pop charts past the rockabilly boom of 1956. Hayden Thompson huffed and puffed convincingly enough, but was just too late to make it on Elvis' coat tails past a regional level. But the one man who had the looks, talent and the adaptability to pull it off and didn't even come close to having a hit on Sun was Billy Riley. Known to most rockabilly fanatics as Billy Lee Riley, although the use of his middle name didn't come until the mid to late 60s, his meister work at Sun almost runs the whole development of white artists on the label in microcosm, from raw rockin' simplicity to production chasing after then current market trends. Riley's top notch band, the Little Green Men, were literally the Sun house band from late '56 on, housing the talents of both James Van Eaton on drums and the incredible Roland Janes on guitar, the twin musical glue of the label. With Sam Phillips doing the early sessions, handing over the reigns to producers Jack Clement and Bill Justis (an avowed rock hater from day one, despite his hit with "Raunchy"), they tried just about anything to get that elusive hit. Along the way, they made some of the best rockin' tracks ever logged in at 706 Union, played the blues, did doo-wop covers, and sometimes tried like all git out to piggy back on some current novelty trend and sounded uncomfortable doing it as well. But no matter what they cut, none of it sold in big numbers by any stretch of the imagination. Riley went on from Sun to a plethora of labels recording in a number of styles, never finding a mainstream audience for his talent. But the truth lying in the laser beams of his AVI CD Red Hot! The Best Of Billy Riley tells us that sales figures sometimes don't give the real story, because much music of tremendously high quality came from one Billy Riley. He was, as Sam Phillips himself once described him, a real rockin' mutha.

He's a key figure in the Sun Records saga -- a cohort of Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and Johnny Cash -- who has shaped dozens of rockabilly, rock'n' roll, and blues hits.... A jaw-dropping artist in his own right, during his 40-plus year career he has performed and recorded with a virtual who's who of popular music -- both as a soloist and as leader of his group The Little Green Men....
...And if you aren't already familiar with Billy Lee Riley, don't worry: his new album Hot Damn! invites you to join in-the-know music fans and discover a cult legend who is still blowing away audiences around the globe.
Filled with rhythm & blues ("I'm Him," "Fine Little Mama," "Rock Me Baby"), uptempo rockabilly ("Too Close Together," "Go On Pretty Baby,"), and smoky ballads ("Winter Time Blues," and the standout "Rainy Night In Georgia"), Hot Damn! gives full voice to Riley's blues background. "It doesn't matter what I'm playing -- country, rockabilly, whatever -- there's a blues flavor to it," Riley admits with a laugh.
For his Capricorn Records debut, Riley chose to record at the old Sun Studios at 706 Union St., Memphis, Tennessee -- where he first began his recording career in 1956. "I'm more comfortable recording there than anywhere else. You don't have all these high-tech people running around and telling you how to play. I wanted this album to feel as close as possible to the way we played music on the front porch or under the shade tree."
With that in mind, Hot Damn! was recorded using old RCA mics and a live, raw style reminiscent of the 1950s. "We would have a ball at every session," says Riley. "I made a point of not overproducing this album, because the blues has to have a natural, honest feeling. We overdubbed guitar and harmonica, but my vocals were cut at the same time as the rest of the track -- all recorded live. It's the only way you can capture that feeling."
Perhaps more than any other song, the deeply personal stance of Hot Damn! is exemplified by the slow blues grinder "How Come We All Ain't Got The Same," in which Riley reminisces about his childhood -- growing up dirt poor, amid the inequity and intolerance of the rural South.
Born 1933 in Pocahontas, Arkansas, Riley spent his early years living on plantations near Osceola and Forrest City -- small rural towns in the Arkansas Delta region near the Mississippi River. Riley's father, a house painter by trade, would work in the cotton fields to feed the family during lean times.
Young Billy Lee began playing harmonica at age six, and learned blues guitar in his early teens. "Blues is the music I grew up hearing on the plantation. There were black families and white families all living together, far from town. We were poor, and playing music was our main form of entertainment."
In 1956 Riley began recording for the Sun label, and went onto become, as journalist Robert Palmer noted years later in Rolling Stone, "the unsung hero of Sun rock & roll." In addition to his own hit singles -- such as "Red Hot" and "Flying Saucer Rock'n' Roll" (featuring a then-unknown piano player, Jerry Lee Lewis) -- Riley played a decisive role in shaping most of the Sun Records hits of that era. With his band the Little Green Men (the name was inspired by the "Flying Saucer" hit), Riley backed Johnny Cash, Charlie Rich, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and other Sun artists -- predating the legendary "house bands" of the 1960s such as Stax/Volt, Motown, and Muscle Shoals.
On his own, Riley earned notoriety throughout the South with his wild live performances, and in the late'50s his shows were banned by various town councils and college administrators who worried that Riley's raucous "devil's music" would corrupt the souls of innocent teenagers.
In 1959 Riley left Sun, but continued to perform and produce music throughout the 1960s working with everybody from Albert Collins, Willie Cobb, and Johnny Rivers, to Herb Alpert, Pearl Bailey, Sammy Davis Jr., and The Beach Boys. But in 1973, Riley retired from music. "I just couldn't relate to what was going on in music, so I went back to Arkansas to raise my children." The retirement was short-lived: an impromptu 1979 show at the annual "Memphis In May" rekindled Riley's interest in music, and he has been steaming ahead ever since.
Today, Riley still gives scorching live performances in front of rabidly appreciative audiences at various American colleges and throughout Europe (where Riley and his Little Green Men are regarded with particular reverence). Each time he steps onstage, Riley puts every ounce of energy into his music -- and gives the type of show that left audiences stunned and exhilarated in the 1950s.

Idolized by generations of rockabilly and blues artists (Bob Dylan also happens to be one of his biggest fans), Riley now reveals his raw blues roots on Hot Damn!. Close your eyes and you can almost hear the porch swing creaking in the background, and feel the warm Delta breeze on your cheek. And if you're not careful, you might just find yourself the newest convert in Billy Lee Riley's ongoing musical invasion.