Randomville: Interview with Johnny Walker: The Solo, Duo man

During the day, a man named Johnny Wirick, M.D. works at a child’s psyche hospital in greater Cincinnati. He’s a mental health specialist, makes an honest living and enjoys a great job.

When the whistle blows at the end of each day, Wirick transforms into Johnny Walker, the former Soledad Brother and current front man for his new band Cut in the Hill Gang. That’s when the tie begins to loosen, the guitars come out, and his rock and roll lifestyle resumes.

Like any business professional or semi-famous rock star, Walker is careful with his words. If he makes a statement he really likes, he’ll often interrupt you to follow up his last words with an edited, more bold statement. His privacy is kept in check as he refuses to reveal his age: “I’m two days older than dirt. I fart dust.” He gives brief answers to questions about why the Soledad Brothers ended, and he doesn’t speak much about his pal Jack White either. Yet when the topic of health care plans came up, we had to cut the phone interview into two parts as he spoke at great length.

The split lifestyle shows both of its faces many times. On health care, Walker gets excited and speaks very professionally and particularly at great length. He informed us very heavily on how America has the best quality medical care in the world and that anyone can be treated at any time at an emergency room. But when we ask him what people should do when that hefty bill arrives along with insurance issues, he replies with a very rock and roll answer: “Don’t pay the bill. Fuck it.” And then he laughs with a little bit of a stoner’s chuckle. So maybe he has a duo personality in one, solo body?

Despite his name, Johnny Walker doesn’t smoke or drink, and he’s very well educated. Though certainly opinionated in a libertarian sense, Walker has a soft and caring side to him as well and he really seems to enjoy the company of friends, colleagues, and also his audiences.

After the Soledad Brothers collapsed in 2006, it was rumoured that Walker was giving up music for good to focus on medicine. “Ah, I can’t really give up music; it’s in my blood!”

Randomville: We have some Cincinnati roots, so your band name Cut in the Hill Gang seems to be pretty easy to figure out... [Editors’ Note: In Northern Kentucky, heading North to Cincinnati leads to the locally known “cut in the hill”, which gives a spectacular view of the Ohio River and Cincinnati.]

Johnny Walker: Well, the name came from several places. Butch Cassidy was part of the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang. When I was visiting Jack [White] in Nashville, he commented on how cool the highway ride is getting there from Ohio with all of the cuts in the hills. Then one day, I just heard the name on the radio, and I went with it. Anyhow, what’s in a name, you know?

Rv: Why have you chosen Covington, KY (greater Cincinnati) as your recent stomping grounds over Detroit or even running off to Europe to join former Soledad band mate Ben Swank?

JW: (Quickly answers) Because this place has some of the best musicians out there. The quality of the musicians here is unreal and so many of them just play for fun and for themselves.

JW: Maybe not as much compared to other big cities, but the quality of the musicians here are just as good as good as anywhere else. And there aren’t as many attitudes here from musicians like up in Cleveland or somewhere. Everyone here just wants to be friends and jam out together.

Rv: It doesn’t appear that Brian Olive (former Soledad Brother) is a Myspace pal for Cut in the Hill Gang. Is that by coincidence?

JW: Brian seems to be doing pretty good for himself. I believe he’s got a little project together with Craig [Fox] from the Greenhornes. I run into him every once in a long while.

JW: I’d love to but the issue is that he lives in Bordeaux. You know he was actually a classically trained cello player for ten years and he gave it up for rock and roll? The guy is great and he calls me all the time in the middle of the night. He can play anything though and he’s a hell of a musician.

JW: Well, it wasn’t a quick end (laughs.) More like three years in the making. You know, you spend thousands of hours driving thousands of miles with the same people, you just eventually lose enthusiasm.

JW: Brad was a guitar player with this bluegrass group I was jamming with and he’s just amazing. He soaks everything up. Lance is the brother-in-law of the guy who was originally drumming for us. These kids are great. I can count on them for musical arrangements and other band duties without a fuss. And they’re such good musicians. This is the best band I’ve ever been in.

JW: I know, but it’s so true. Do you know when I figured it out? I talked a big game taking these guys to Detroit and that city has very high standards for music still. During the show, I received six text messages from people in the crowd telling me how good the band was.

JW: I guess maybe a dozen. Usually when we play out we’ll have a couple of sets’ worth. We’ll play a blues set in the style of John Mayall or Paul Butterfield. Then we might play a rock and roll set.

JW: Yeah, we’re doing a little Soledad stuff. These kids keep asking to listen to old Soledad music so they can learn the songs, but I’d rather them just play the songs how they feel they should be done. It’s funny, I was recently talking to Ben [Swank] and I told him we’re covering Soledad Brothers’ stuff and he’s like “Dude, you can’t cover your own songs. You wrote all of those songs!”

JW: I’m really fed up with the music business and I’m tired of record labels. I think they’re all cowards and full of shit. But these kids at Little Room Records are really enthusiastic and they’re so open with ideas and easy to work with. And they’re only releasing our music on vinyl only. I hate that MP3 sound.

JW: Yeah, I know, but we had to in order to raise band money. And I’m thinking about just burning our cd’s and selling them at $10 a piece. That’s cheap and you’ll get better quality and for less than a dollar a song. Plus, we’d actually make some money that way, and making money on cd sales is practically unheard of in this business.

JW: Sometimes, but the price of gas is ridiculous right now. Gas is going to kill rock and roll (laughs). If bands have support they can make money on tour, but we never had touring support from promoters or labels.

JW: We were never really offered. The touring life is not very glamorous. Do you know how much I made in my best year in the Soledad Brothers? $12,000! That’s it! We’re the ones doing all the equipment loading and driving from town to town, and then all these fuckin’ industry people tell us we “can’t quit” because they want to come hang out after shows and do a bunch of drugs then go home to their cushy jobs. And they’re always trying to force licensing our music upon us for stupid commercials. If I wanted to write jingles, I’d right jingles. That’s Barry Manilow’s job! I’m really fed up with the business is the bottom line.

JW: That’s a hard once because it’s always been around for me since my dad was really into it. I was into punk as a teenager, but sometime around then is when I started to notice the blues. Maybe the Gun Club or Captain Beefheart. You call that blues? I kind of call that blues.

JW: Oh, I do branch out. I play in bluegrass bands around Cincinnati, sometimes playing the upright bass. Sometimes I get into experimental jazz. And I think the blues is deceptively simple. I really can’t play a guitar solo to save my ass. I’m just a rhythm guitar player.

JW: Dub and reggae, like Studio One and Trojan Record stuff. I can usually find something good in most kinds of music....except the boy bands.

JW: Well it’s been eight years ago since I worked with him. We’re friends and it’s all about pleasure and no business with him now.

JW: Oh. (Long pause) Yeah. Probably. I mean yeah, just to hang out with those guys and it wouldn’t be about the money or anything.

Rv: Hillary is proposing Universal Health Care that is affordable, yet mandatory. Obama is only calling mandatory for children, but Nader thinks the government should pay for it and that socialized medicine is the answer. What do you think?

JW: Well, if you want to go to socialized medicine just wait and see the quality of the care. Michael Moore only shows you one side of that: the sensational side. One time in London I got a kidney stone and went to an Emergency Room. There was no one else there and I waited an hour and a half to get care. When I got to my room, it had no sheets and smelled like piss. It took 45 minutes until a nurse saw me. I finally went in the bathroom and passed the stone, and afterwards they offered me Toradol for pain, which is like trying to put out a fire with a fucking thimble of water.

JW: I don’t know, but I’ll tell you that we have the best quality of health care and the best facilities. In 1996, I learned that all of Canada had 12 MRI machines. 12! We probably had 12 in Cleveland alone! But I will say that there is not enough preventative medicine for poor people and that bothers me.

JW: Oh yeah, they know all about me. And I sometimes bring music to work too. One day this teenage girl was really riled up, so I got out my acoustic and started playing “Proud Mary” all Ike and Tina style. Afterwards she said “Thanks for trying to calm me down.” I asked her if it worked, and she smiled and said “Yes.” It was pretty moving. This is the best job I’ve ever had. So I have the best job I’ve ever had and I’m in the best band I’ve ever been in. I guess I’m doing okay.