Bill in 1978 (from Wendy Williams)

Young Billy Ray with his Uncle George Hadjidakis, late September of '07.

Formula Ballantine, anyone?

This one from Michelle.  Bill contemplates ducknapping, with his nostrils.

This one contributed from Womb Raider on the Goner thread (click to read) regarding news of Bill's passing.  I believe this portrait was previously culled from the 'eaters' section of the now deceased (and soarly missed) watchmeeatahotdog website.  Thank you Womb Raider, and thank you Goner Records!

I've always been fond of this image of Bill, taken around 1980 by his pal Biz Wilson.  My copy is a xerox, and that is fading.

This mystery photo sent from Michelle.  My guess is that we are in a hotel after travelling to a Lyres show.

Cub Koda & Bill Peitsch (aka Fish Fly & Boll Weevil) relieve themselves at a wall of roasting ears after a hard days night of shooting for Wayne County Ramblin'.  Bill and Cub were real happy to be working together, as they were fond of one-another.  I recall Bill being very shaken by Cub's passing, and I'm certain Cub would be by Bill's.  As Cub was ill for some time before he passed, he had time to extend his wish that those who would miss him should slap 'Surfin' Bird' (click now to hear, if it suits ya!) on the turntable, act out, and have a good time.  Bill noted that several times.  We miss and salute them both!

Bill and our friend, Joe Shields in the parking lot after a Tubes concert; 1978 or '79.  I sense this memory held some inspiration for Joe's

YouTube hit, "I'm A Little Catfish".

This one from Sylvia Parker taken in Astoria, NY

The morning after photo.  When we turned 16, and were licensed to drive, we snuck up on the roof of the local grocer one night to roast some hot dogs and drink some of the beer we bootlegged from across the river in Ontaria, Canada.  From left to right; Paul Schuster, Dan Rose, Ray Burns, & Bill Peitsch

Bill performs with Lyres at the world premiére of Wayne County Ramblin' at One Eyed Jacks in New Orleans, about 6 weeks before Hurricane Katrina; July 16, 2005 -- Jeff Conolly & Rick Coraccio also seen.  (photo; thee esteemed Sylvia Parker)

 

Below are some eyewitness reminisces from two of Bill's dear friends, Billy and Miriam, of Norton Records in the 'Norton News' section.  Two more wonderful people I am thankful for Bill bringing into my life.  Reading them made me laugh & cry, out-loud, at the same time.  Thank you Billy & Miriam, for posting, sharing, and being who you are:

GOODBYE TO A COUPLE OF REAL GONE TUB MASTERS: BILL PEITSCH AND DOUG MEECH
Hannibal called a while back, morose as could be about sad news that had reached him about one of his drummers “from the day” passing on. I commiserated with him, as we had just heard that original Chesterfield Kings beat-man Doug Meech had retired from this sphere. Hannibal immediately noted that there would be a third, and soon. Now I know why he wears the turban. Unfortunately, he was too right. We all lost Bill Peitsch of the Church Keys shortly thereafter, Bill, who Han called “the red headed drummer boy”. I don't think Doug and Bill ever met, but they would have been friends, I can warrant that. Doug was out of the Kings many moons ago, but he sent a Christmas card every year, a traditional card with a short message that basically spelled out, I'm here, I'm okay, see you later. Doug was an unassuming guy, and a tremendous drummer. Bill was great trapsman as well, but he was an even better full capacity friend.
Bill Peitsch shuffled off this mortal coil on Sept 21 in NYC. I first met Bill when he came to work at the Strand Bookstore in 1988. I was working personnel, a ten year vet myself of our beloved Strand at that time. We became friends instantly. He and his gal Michelle, whom he was to wed the following November, were cut from a rare old school bolt of friendship and an even rarer code of action, one that dictated ACTION, NOW! It was a privilege to know Bill. He was an amazing individual. When we were all sitting around reminiscing this week, there were so many repeated moments discussing his generosity, his kindness, his sense of responsibility. Still, some hilarious moments up time and again. I remember when the James Brown FUTURE SHOCK TV shows were found in some film vault in Atlanta some years ago, and we were all watching the tapes, which included some pretty funky dance contests. Bill's favorite was a male dancer who was acting out a tourist bit with his flight bag over his shoulder. The bizarre dance ended with the dancer pulling his bag over his head and flapping around wildly. If any of you have seen FUTURE SHOCK, I know you're laughing. Well, not long before the World Trade Center came a-tumbling, local lads the Fleshtones played a wild show at the top of the towers, in this very suave night club. Maybe it was Windows of the World.. Whatever, it was at the top and it was a nutty night. Billy (Miller) and I went with visiting Michael Lucas of the Phantom Surfers in tow, and we met up with Bill Peitsch and some stray Finnish rock n' roll tourists up there. At one point, we were looking out the windows and reminiscing about seeing the Fleshtones in divey spots way down below, and it was one of those haunting, happy, crystal clear evenings when all the lights of the city were sparkling below and here we were, grotty overgrown teenagers dancing to a band from Queens in a grand sophisticated bom-booom room high above the streets of New York City. At the time, my handbag of choice was a TWA flight bag, which ended up, emptied of its scraps and upside down on dancing Bill Peitsch's head, completely engulfing his entire noggin, FUTURE SHOCK style. It was one of the most wildly surreal, hilarious moments in my life, Bill on the dance floor reenacting a James Brown moment that only made sense to a handful of lunatics who had been privy to the reel. I laughed then, until I cried, I've laughed hundreds of times since then just thinking of it, and I laugh now, but it's all tears. Gee we're gonna miss you Bill. Everybody sends their love.
Your friend always,
Miriam
(Bill's obituary appears here. This obit neglects to mention the fact that he worked continuously at the best bookstore in the world, the Strand, for just shy of 20 years, or that he was a Norton recording artist of merit, or that he appeared on film many times, including in Bruce Bennett's SHIRTSLEEVES, Dan Rose's WAYNE COUNTY RAMBLIN', and Christopher Frieri's I WAS A TEENAGE MUMMY. Let these things, too, be known.)

BYE BYE BILLY
BILL PEITSCH (1962-2007)
By Billy Miller
I first met Bill and Michelle shortly before Miriam and I got married twenty years ago. They'd just moved to town from Detroit and the four of us instantly became inseparable best friends. Bill really was the guy you'd want around if you were down. I sure am down now, but quite honestly, I can't muster up maudlin words and I don't think Bill would want me to get overly gushy in his memory.
One thing about Bill, he always put his friends and family first. He'd be sure your car was running right even though he always drove old beaters (“Never spend more than 500 bucks on a car,” he'd advise). He once put a new alternator in my van and called me ten minutes later to come and give his car a jump a few blocks away.
Bill could make anyone laugh, even in tragedy. His apartment once had a pretty serious fire (his cat tipped over a lit cigarette) and when I got there to help, I just couldn't stop laughing. His sofa had a hole in it burned about two feet wide and looked like a prop from the Three Stooges.
He even cracked Ike Turner up. We were watching Ike play one night and one of the modern Ikettes launched into a Whitney Houston ballad. Just as the song peaked and hit a pause, Bill hollered out a request for his favorite Turner classic - the Sly Fox's Hoodoo Say. “Hey Ike, “ Bill howled, “What did the Hoodoo say?!” Ike doubled over and was laughing so hard. It was perfect.
After an Andre Williams gig at Coney Island High, Bill offered to chauffer Mr. Rhythm to JFK Airport for a 6AM flight to Los Angeles. Bill and Andre bar hopped their way through three counties and were none the worse for wear when they arrived at the curbside check in. Andre was fumbling with his check on pimp hat cases and would just laugh at every security question the frustrated attendant would ask. She finally got some semblance of a satisfactory answer out of Andre and turned to Bill and asked, “Are you flying as well?” “No, ma'am," Bill replied. “I'm just here to drop off my dad!” He said the lady nearly fainted.
Once at Rye Playland, Michelle and Miriam were arrested for attacking Freddy Cannon onstage. The girls had given Bill and me their purses a second before the impromptu attack and subsequent squad car ride down to the precinct the street. Bill and I walked into the police station where he loudly bellowed, “We're here for our womens!” with both of us holding ladies pocketbooks.
Bill attended hundreds of shows, each made better by his presence. It really didn't matter if he was on stage with any one of his bands (the Church Keys, Gowanus Canal Boys, Clams or Purple Wizard) or firing on all pistons from the audience, Bill could always be counted on to shake up the house. Lenny Kaye called Bill “a shining light” and that hits it on the head.
Chuck Berry was Bill's ultimate hero. “The farther it is from Chuck Berry," he once said, “the less I have any use for it.” There was a time where I was between cars and Bill would let me borrow his truck. I'd swing by his job at the Strand and get the keys. There must have always been fifty cassettes scattered around the car, but every time I turned on the ignition, Chuck Berry started playing. Every single time.
There are so many shared wiggy memories that included conga lines, hot dog stands, pre-dawn living room jam sessions, wrestling matches (Bill was honored with a birthday cake in the ring at the Arena Puerto Rico), karate chopped watermelons, White Castle hijinx, all night Bingo with blue haired ladies in Vegas, doorbell ringing at all hours (the best was his “Your hedges are crooked. I could fix that” prank at 5:30 AM) that it's hard to figure just where one incident ended and the next one began. It's impossible to even fathom how Bill packed such an upbeat life into just 45 years. We had great times roaring through Virginia listening to Chuck Berry, roaring through Texas listening to Chuck Berry, roaring through Maine listening to Chuck Berry, and don't get me started on the New Jersey Turnpike in the wee wee hours...
My father taught me that the single greatest virtue a person could possess is loyalty. Bill Peitsch epitomized that. If you were his friend, he would never let you down. He was the most genuine cat I have ever known. There was definitely nothing phony about Bill. He was generous, smart, strong (it's true, he did drum an entire set with a girl perched on his shoulders) and lived his life by an admirably noble set of rules. And for bringing Speedo, our beloved pooch of 15 years into our home, I could never be able to thank Bill enough. To all of Bill's family and friends, I offer my deepest heartfelt condolences. We have lost Bill, but we've all gained so much from knowing him.
Bill Peitsch attended his last rock n' roll show just a week before his passing. He got to see Chuck Berry play Johnny B. Goode one last time.

Shop Norton Records from where Bill stated infrequently, 'They've never put out a bad record; the best label, period!'

Bill and Ted Weber assess the values and particulars of Canadian beer; 1978

Below are some thoughts Ted Weber sent me via e-mail.  Sadly, Ted and I have lost touch for over twenty years, and I am very happy for establishing contact with him again.  Ted has known Bill for as long as I have, and we shared so many great times together growing up.  This photo was taken during one of those times.  Cigars and Canadian beer at 16 years of age.  Beer that we imported from Canada ourselves.  We discovered that we could cross the Detroit River from where we lived and purchase the Canadian beer (not for export to the US) that had a way higher alcohol content.  Those bottles had a signature from the CEO, himself, and a quote that Bill found suitable for his senior high-school yearbook photo; "An honest brew makes its own friends.  -John Molson"   Later in life, Bill would graduate to ale.

e-memories of Ted Weber's;

I started writing down some of my thoughts of our friend Bill Peitsch and wanted to share them with you and whoever would want to read this....   
 
1.  14 year old tackle football Bill’s backyard- object, rip as many T-shirts as possible and sling BIG JOE DEAN from “Back in Livonia” into a convenient pile of Glenn Smith’s dog’s shit.  First time I remember Bill really smile.  
2.  Bill shows me an amazing video, Gary and Roger? with billiard magic, someone’s old old camera and a single shot of a cue ball resulting in a table clearing with all the balls ending up in numerous pockets. “Hey how’d you do dat?”
3.  Bill takes me for a ride in his dad’s Bronco- "didn’t know that you could drive down these foot paths in the bird sanctuary trail in 4 wheel drive like this…
“Yeh, Ted, watch this bump… “haaaaaaaaa….”
“Man, Bill my fucking head just went through the roof.”
He smiled, “Yeh that was a good one… you are supposed to put on your belt.”
…”Man I never wore a seat beat before why didn’t you tell me?”
4.  Got on the school bus, for no real reason I didn’t like that kid no-one liked with the Lou Reed T-shirt with some reference to “Sweet Cheese.” Bill said, he is cool and somehow I let go of it.
5.   Went in a boat to Canada with Dan, Bill and Andy to the a channel of limestone filtering out the Rogue River, BASF, Firestone, used rubbers, dead silver bass and carp bodies, Bob-a-Lo Boat debris, and all the human shit of 1970’s Detroit River – Bill took up with some of our Canadien neighbors and traded a hand-full of pin joints for a case of Labatt's.  They were beer rich and weed poor so everyone was happy as pigs in sunny mud and we all climbed the boulders to the tree swing into the river.  One year, Kenny Carter cut his wrist on a broken beer bottle left up on top of the boulders by some asshole and he nearly died, and I was afraid when that rope was swung up for my turn.  I don’t like the idea of jumping off of high places from a rope to begin with, but hung on and let go over the water least I be smashed back into the rocks.   It was fun.  And I was really glad Bill got us that beer.
6.  Bill told me his Dad recommended us not to make pipes out of aluminum foil.
7.  One night, we went to the Rocky Horror Movie and threw a bunch of stuff like popcorn and paper at other people.  Bill said that we should go to Taco Bell; we were stoned, hungry and had no money.  I never had Mexican food before that and what I found was good.  I found a crispy tostada snuggled with a companion layer of warm and refined refried beans, gently coated in a blanket of refreshing lettuce, tangy shredded cheese and a fascinating red pepper sauce.   It was cheap too, maybe $0.59 cents, so I had enough to buy two of them. 
8.  Who decided to drive to Toronto to see The Who?  Like let’s get one or two or three cars and drive up there and back the day of the concert.  It’s only like 6 hours from Detroit.   I like to go in a car or two or three, somewhere for music with Canadian beer.   Bill’s orange Pinto was there.   I don’t remember anything after the parking lot walking into the venue, I just know I came back with a black concert T-shirt.  But I heard one of our party got pretty “close to the stage” when they were singing Babba O’reilly.
9.  Dan Johnston’s dad didn’t want us to be drinking and driving so he let us use the “Shed”.   It was a kind of a 10x12 foot hut, but actually much more like a shed.  I am not sure who, but Dan, Bill, Andy and Dan Rose and others put in some used carpet and someone rigged it with music and a broken wood burning stove for heat.  It was a good place to go to before or after drinking, also for and during.  I didn’t know how hot those stoves can get nor how smoky, but I found out and listened to a lot of good music in the Shed.  Bill liked to kiss people in there, it seemed that anyone in particular would do.
10.   One New Year’s Eve we got a keg and Bill brought some pink champagne, the $3 stuff, I guess.  We danced and drank and the Shed became hot and smoky and swaying all over.  I left the Shed to puke and felt amazingly fine after passing the beer and evil pink.  I was relaxing in a snow drift where the air was clean and clear.  Someone said, “you’ll die out there you idiot,” so I went back inside.
11.  When we were around 17 or 18, I made some fake driving licenses for friends at my Mom’s printing shop in order to buy beer.  Bill wanted one, but he didn’t want to be 21.  He had to be 26.   He said, no one would suspect him if his license said 26 years old.  I laughed but knew if anyone could pull it off it’d be Bill and he did pull it off.  He was a fearless and active designated beer buyer.   It was great every time he came out of the Party Store with that brown bag tucked under his arm.
 
That's all I got for now.   
Ted Weber
weber-t@marubeni.com

 

Bill reclines on the raft we built that he designed for floating down the Mississippi River.  We were floating downstream on day 2 of our journey when I took this.  19 years of age.

On the banks of the mighty Mississippi River on our maiden voyage.  Bill and I drifted roughly 125 miles on this raft we constructed on the Detroit River the summer before.  We called it quits when we were nearly killed by a barge flotilla; four wide, and four deep.  May or June of 1980 or '81.

This is a chalk drawing Bill made one afternoon during our drift of 6 days and five nights.

This is a photo I took of the flooding banks as we drifted past.  I made a whole series of these as palladium prints on watercolor paper.

I was then a student of fine art, Bill was then a student of engineering.

'X' marks the spot where Bill and I narrowly escaped colliding with barges upon barges!

Bill has a morning shave.

The photo Bill took of me along the the banks.  I Look like a 70's yeti imposter!

What he wrote on the back of it, before mailing it  my way.

handsome, scurvy, Bill Peitsch

Biz Wilson photo of Bill 'round 1980.  Thank you George Hadjidakis and Jeremy Butler for this entry!

Bill looks like Nosferatu in this photo taken by Biz Wilson (aka No. 5), in Tuscaloosa, AL, roughly 1980.

 

These are recollections from another neighborhood pal of Bill's, Dan 'Sleepy' Johnston, he sent via e-mail;

Some Bill memories:

1.  We don't have driving licenses, but my folks are out of town so we take the Torino for a late night spin.  Drinking, of course, and driving in snow and ice.  I lose control and land the car in the front of a neighbor's house.  Bill's dad pulls us out with the Bronco.

2.  Next night, I lose control and land in front of the same house.  Bill's dad tells us we're just stupid and to find someone else to get the car out.

3.  Joe Shields makes up his mind see Libby Davis on another boat, so he points his Boston Whaler in her direction.  Bill and I mutiny because Joe is acting like a lovesick dog.  We dive overboard.  We're in the Detroit River on the Canadian side with dim prospects for getting back home.  We

climb over a poison ivy, poison sumac infested island, then swim into the channel, waving our arms for someone to pick us up. 

4.  I sit on the hood of Bill's newly repainted Pinto.  He smacks me, saying, "Goddammit, get off the paint.  It's still soft." 

5.  Dancing outside the shed during a raging thunder storm with forks in one hand raised to the sky, beers sloshing, in bare feet, taunting Scott Luh that God was going to strike us dead. 

6.  Singing doo-wop behind our sexy English teacher.  Discussing the merits of Camus so we could watch her breasts.

7.  After a trying day of education, unwinding in my folks living room with a little opera and ballet:  one of us banging on the piano, screeching, the other leaping off the furniture, doing pirouettes. 

8.  Watching Monty Python.  Calling the 700 Hundred Club and asking to be saved.

9.  Bill water skiing, touching a freighter. 

10.  Bill and I are going to collect our pay for some rough carpentry work.  We're meeting two guys outside a bar.  I'm driving Bill's Pinto, we pull up to the bar, they're standing outside, they start punching us through the open car windows, I'm dazed and trying to start the car, this guy is punching me again and again in the side of the head, I'm trying to get my wits together to start the car and get out of there.  I glance over at Bill and he's pulled the other guy into the car and is pummeling his face.  I finally get the car started and step on the gas.  Bill is still holding the guy and punching him in the face, but now we're dragging the asshole over the pavement and Bill turns to me and says, "Should I let him go?" and smiles. 

11.  We're broke.  Stealing from grocery stores after we'd noticed that the housewives would open bags of food as and snack, sauntering up and down the aisles.  Act like housewives, we thought.  Bill finally couldn't keep up the act anymore and grabbed a can of whipped cream and inhaled the gas.

12.  Still broke.  Bill says we need to see Peter Tosh to cheer us up.  A religious experience in a falling down theater.

Dan Johnston

danielgjohnston@gmail.com

Bill explaining himself from some trouble with high school principal; Mr. (Doug) Yardley

-from high school yearbook photographer, and friend, Wendy Williams.

Bill 'relaxes' on the set of Wayne County Ramblin'; 1999.

See Bill with The Church Keys promoting beer in a Japanese TV commercial on YouTube (click here)

 

  

LP, CD, & non-lp 7" singles available at Norton Records.  Or, if you can believe it, single-song MP3's available through Amazon.com (why not start with "Brother Was You Praying"?).  The Church Keys were a glorious blast (Ale Up!) to catch live and consisted of:  Bill Peitsch - drums, vocals, Doug Dellefemine - guitar, vocals, Jon "Sugarboy" Chalmers - guitar, vocals, Lars Espensen - sax,  and Susan Aprill - bass, vocals.  From the liner notes:  "I have seen a lot of rock groups and by far The Church Keys got it going on.  Plus the fact they are one of my favorite groups.  Bill the drummer is my soul brother and my homie.  This album is great in my eyesight.  A true feel full of beer and guts.  These kids are one of a kind.  They run off the wheels of music.  They work their asses off.  The Church Keys can work with me any time and will forever be my musical brothers and sisters." - Andre Williams; Mr. Rhythm

 

check out their MySpace page; free download of Bill's frightful original "Stalker" ('What she sees is what she wants, and what she wants is me, right on  She don't need a playmate, she needs a mental doctor -- my god I've got a stalker!').  Purple Wizard were regal and nearly unapproachable with their full-on purple regalia front when they performed live.  They consisted of:  Lori Yorkman-Lindsay - vocals, guitar, Leslie Day - backing vocals, harmonica, organ, Bill Peitsch - vocals, maracas, recorder (yep), Dave Lindsay - drums, Jon Chalmers - bass.

CD available and i-tunes downloads available at the independent company Full-Tilt Records, and at Amazon.com

Bill was also a founding member of Brooklyn's esteemed Gowanus Canal Boys; along with Lars Espensen and Marcus 'The Carcass' Natale.  You can get a small taste from this YouTube video.  Check out the Gowanus Canal Boys MySpace page.

Bill and Poke perform with/as THE HAOLIES at Lakeside. They were a blast!  Sadly, no recordings that I know of. 

Count Slima waiting in the wings for his entrance to perform with his band, The Slimatones (aka Church Keys).

DISCOVER SOME FINE RECORDINGS FEATURING BILL PEITSCH; HEARING IS BELIEVING!

Purple Wizard; L > R - Leslie Day, Bill Peitsch, Dave Lindsay, Lori Yorkman-Lindsay

(Bill was not yet wielding his purple recorder)

Memorable, great NYC gig!  Disclaimer; this flyer has been retouched in that the original featured the word 'The' in front of 'Lyres'.

PURPLE WIZARD

It's getting late.

from the Bill Peitsch jukebox:           The A's                                                                                                                The B's

 

 

7" singles from the Norton record catalog.

Greg Cartwright (Reigning Sound / Oblivians) dedicates a song in Bill's honour.  Live at Goner Records, an acoustic cover of Nolan Strong & The Diablo's, "Mind Over Matter", on YouTube.Bill were way fond of Detroit's Nolan Strong & The Diablos.

Bill Peitsch & Cub Koda (aka Boll Weevil & Fish Fly) on location for Wayne County Ramblin',

with Jim Diamond (of Ghetto Recorders) and myself with the camera.  Makin' movies!

Boll Weevil (Bill Peitsch) discusses the joys of sex with August (Tav Falco) in a still from Wayne County Ramblin'.

When Wayne County Ramblin' was ready to be screened by cast, crew, family & friends; Bill was seated next to me Mother

in the front row; with a can of Budweiser.

This is from the Bohemian Beer Garden in Astoria, many years ago.  This is one of many games I would never win, unless partnered with Bill.  It's one of my favorite photos of us, too.

although we talked on the phone every six weeks, this is the last time I saw Bill, in December of 2006.  We proudly flanked by their daughter, Wendy Jean Peitsch.  We near their home in Staten Island.  (photo; Peggy O'Neill)

I LOVE YOU, TOO, BILL PEITSCH!

Shall post here in the future photos and Bill recalls as I can find the focus.                          contact us

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