Success comes in waves and the secret is to catch the right one.
If Auguste Rodin’s sculpture “The Thinker” had been cast in the image of Bill Filipiak, it would be representative of the indie songwriter’s perspective on making music and his personal belief system. In a more general sense, it would represent contemplation, introspection, and the artist’s ability to write and record music in a manner that makes sense to him.
Filipiak thinks about life as a struggle with glorious rewards if you can resist paying attention to all the crap thrown at you.
He thinks about positivity and negativity, the two opposite poles of human consciousness which are incompatible.
He thinks of mortality as some uninvited party guest who refuses to leave with everyone else and instead insists on staying, just to hang out in the back of his mind.
He thinks about surfing and catching a wave he can ride, like one that delivers his songs to every Americana radio station like a newsboy on a 10-speed bike throwing rolled-up papers onto front porches where people sit eagerly awaiting something to read with their morning coffee.
He thinks about water – a lot – either at Conesus Lake, the westernmost of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York or the vast Pacific Ocean, and its meditative and restorative powers that can be drawn upon to regroup and relax.
Mainly, he thinks about writing songs as the most important thing he has to offer the world, a way to connect, one listener at a time.
Filipiak has just released his fourth album, an acoustic gem titled “Less is More,” which he calls a true reflection of where he’s been, where he’s at and where he’s going. Besides, he had fun making the record, learned how to play bass and drums. He made the decision to back off from his job producing segments at the Opry for other artists to shine, developing such an appreciation of how they are able to go on stage figuratively naked with just a guitar and captivate the audience. The record acts as a journal of some of the lessons and discoveries he encountered in Nashville. It called for profound introspection. Simple. Less is more.
The songs are a result of experiencing the human condition, the lyrics a mixture of melancholy and hope. When the pace of life becomes too fast, you slow it down to savour the moment, to ‘Soak it All In’ before catching the next wave without a care about having any ‘Sand in Your Hair.’ Don’t sweat the small stuff. Something great can emerge from an uncomfortable experience, like being drenched by a rainstorm while riding around in the car with the top down.
Filipiak feels as if there’s been a big breath of pure fresh air inhaled, energizing his life. His songs have the earnestness of John Hiatt as he’s appreciating the fleetingness that comes with being truly happy for a spell. He tries not to miss the Opry too much, still keeps his hand in, but the surf has been calling him.
“I just played a gig at Sloopy’s, another one of our favourite hangs,” he related by email one afternoon. “I’ll be playing again in December. Part of the dream was to have a couple of regular spots that I played here where we live. It’s all falling into place. Ultimately my goal is to live by the beach, write songs for other artists, play out locally, watch the sunsets with our neighbours and a glass of wine (which we’re already doing) and surf from time to time. That’s the dream and we’re well on our way.”
There are so many choices of music to listen to. Has that had an effect getting your music out into the world for people to notice?
I think the hardest part is doing it all yourself. On one album I hired a publicist but that’s expensive for what you get. For me, this is a side gig and several years ago my wife convinced me to begin recording, I was a sound engineer so this is the ultimate DIY, when you know enough to be dangerous. I use Play MPE and CDX Distribution to get music out to all the Americana stations, then follow up when I can. I’ve established some great relationships with radio stations throughout the country. It would be nice to use social media more and play out, but there’s been a full-time job and other responsibilities.
The quality of music you produce still must be fulfilling.
For me, the end game has always been to be a writer more so than a performer.
From the first album in 2016 to this latest one, it seems to me that your voice has changed and become more, let’s say, deeper and fuller.
Back then I’d been behind the microphone and camera so much that I was green at the mic. Like most artists, every album you find out a little more about who you are. You develop your voice and become more comfortable with singing. Even writing, you play around with things to get used to what works. I had someone produce the first album, then I did the next three in my own little studio. I was able to spend more time, as I said, DIY. I also taught myself drums and other instruments. I bought a cajón, the little rhythm box that drummers use when playing acoustic sets. So, it’s an evolution.
For the new album, “Less Is More”, you said it’s more about the story and the song than big production, more personal and introspective.
Having worked at the Opry so long, I have always stood in awe side stage while artists like Charlie Worsham went out there with just a guitar, basically naked on stage. And just through their songs they were able to captivate the audience in a way that was more intimate than with a full band. I’ve been told that you can tell a good song if it engages the listener by just a guitar or piano and vocal. So, I decided to keep it really simple, hence the title “Less Is More.”
A cool breeze off the ocean, sunshine on my skin, you want to ‘Soak It All In.’ There are several songs with a beach or ocean. Did you miss the whole Beach Boys era of fun in the sun with the top down.
My wife and I have been coming out to Manhattan Beach in El Porto for the last five or six years, and I lived out here many years ago, always enthralled by the ocean and the beach. I’ve used the waves for a metaphor of how the ocean emulates life. Every day we wake up and are faced with so many choices of which way to ride, just like a surfer sitting out there waiting for the right wave. It may or may not work out, may take you under the waves or on a long ride. Life is like a series of waves, you can either enjoy the ride or fall flat on your ass.
So, in a way it’s a metaphor for the Steely Dan song, You go back, Jack, and do it again.
That’s just it. You paddle back out and wait for the next one. And sometimes you’ll just sit there waiting to try again, learn a little bit more. I’m just a novice at surfing, but it’s the same idea. You look for what the conditions are at that time of day, if you’re at low tide or high tide. It’s like life, with every choice you make it’s a learning experience, and you brush it off and try again.
The novelist Don Winslow has written crime novels where the main characters are single-minded surfers, catching a wave every morning before coffee. “The Dawn Patrol” and “Kings of Cool” are the titles, set in southern California where it’s sunny and mild with a dark undertow.
We’ve been out here, meeting the neighbours, and they all say the same thing. This place is therapy with the ocean and walks on the beach. The song ‘Soak It All In’ is like, well, sometimes I just need a minute to do that.
It’s a relaxed song, talking about toes in the sand, a drink in your hand.
I could have written it more upbeat as a party song, but the whole point was to relax and enjoy the ride. It doesn’t matter if it’s the beach or your kid’s soccer game, sometimes you need the opportunity to soak in the moment. We’re often attuned to thinking about what comes next. But we should take that moment that soothes us.
The impression you’re putting forth is sharing the essence of what Eckhard Tolle writes about, his main theme being to live in the moment, “The Power of Now.”
Yes, you never know whether the moment will ever come again. It was hard to pack everything up and move two dogs and a cat across the country, but life is short.
California is 180 degrees – not the heat but its environment – from where you grew up in western New York. I don’t imagine you miss the winters and lake effect snowstorms.
Pine Grove Farms, which became the name of my record label. It was a dairy farm and we sold milk on the premises. My dad rented out some of the barns for horses that were used for harness racing. We had a half-mile race track where they were trained. It was pretty cool. When I was fourteen, my dad sold the farm and we moved to Bowling Green, Kentucky on a grain farm. After high school, I went back to Fredonia State University in New York to study audio production in radio. After graduating, I came back to Kentucky. Planned on saving money for a year.
But instead it was California, here I come?
Yes, I hightailed it out of there after two weeks, took off in my car in the middle of the night.
Are you actually going out surfing?
Here’s a nugget: I’ve been terrified of water my whole life. I’ve always been enamoured of surfers but never could get over the fear of water and the sharks that may be lurking around. My wife and I were having a couple drinks, and I said I was going to do it, find someone to give me a surfing lesson. That night I went online and found someone, texted him and he said there was an opening the next day at noon. The next morning, I woke up saying, oh my God what have I got myself into? I was going to back out but my wife convinced me to go. I got there and went over basics and was out in the water that day. It’s like we are our own worst enemies. We put up barriers that prevent us from doing the things apparently, we want to do. Come on, let’s do it! I even got a tattoo to commemorate the occasion. It was that profound. Why are we inclined to avoid taking those leaps? Human nature is funny. I tell my kids, the secret to success is showing up.
“Surf’s Up” is my favourite Beach Boys album. The wave in the title song, however, is a tidal wave. It’s interesting that the B-side of the single is ‘Don’t Go Near the Water,” which you were experiencing.
My son and I are huge fans of Brian Wilson. His methodology of trying different things in the studio, breaking out of the norms, leads to some intricate arrangements. His songs are deceptively simple, how he weaves it all together. I respect that.
What’s your favourite Beach Boys song?
I have the 45 of ‘Good Vibrations.’ That song always amazed me. It has several sections that are unique yet they blend together so well. It’s incredible how he got the cellos just right.
‘Sand in My Hair’ is a jazzy, acoustic blues where you are “smiling because I find it (the sand) everywhere rolling around with Judy.”
We had just come back from the beach and went in the house. Kristi (Bill’s wife) said, “The sand is everywhere,” and I just started singing that phrase thinking, my God, this will be a great song. It’s amazing, here you don’t even have to get on the beach, the sand will find you. Then you remember all the fun things you were doing together – throwing a frisbee, swimming, a walk on the beach. That song wrote itself, literally in ten minutes.
The majority of your songs don’t come quite that easily, though, do they?
There’s no pattern to follow. Some I’ll agonize over for days or weeks. One song on this album, ‘Jump the Blues,’ was recorded previously on the first album. It evolved over time, so I re-recorded it because I felt it lacked the emotional impact and was a little too upbeat for my taste. Less is more. Now it has that simple drone rhythm and just enough darkness to get across my idea. Social media is the epitome of this. We project the idea that everything in our life is okay, perfect in fact, when the reality is we go to bed at night freaking out about the bills to pay, our kids and life in general. We’re not really honest with other people or even ourselves. We keep the hard stuff inside and it tears us up.
So, the message is we all struggle with something whether we like to admit or not?
If somebody you meet asks how you’re doing, what do you reply? “I’m doing great! Life is fantastic!” What we should be asking someone is: Are you okay? Is there something you want to talk about? The more we share, get it off our chest and open up, the better we feel.
‘Road to Nowhere’ has the same title as the familiar Talking Heads song.
That is the first song I wrote for the album. It speaks to fear of change, of taking steps to move to a better place, or different. What’s the saying, if you want a different result take action or something like that. People who get frustrated at winding up in the same place do so because they make the same decisions at every turn. To change that trajectory is hard because you have to force yourself outside your comfort zone and take a leap of faith. When I was writing the song, I thought about people in an abusive relationship or stuck in a situation that was constantly bringing them down. You are emotionally entrenched in a pattern of negativity and self-deprivation. It’s much easier to continue along the road that’s comfortable. So the concept of ‘Road to Nowhere’ is that you will literally end up in the same place over and over again. I thought about writing a third verse that was either an exit or a new direction, but that’s another story, another song. I need to jump in the ocean, take a risk. It’s invigorating but still scary.
Stasis gets old and depressing. But it’s familiar and familiar feels safe, until it doesn’t anymore.
Eventually that road comes to an end. When you go on trips, isn’t it fun to go off the beaten path, explore a different environment, see things you’ve never seen before? That song led to ‘Soak It All In’ where sometimes you experience things that make you feel good but on a natural level. Sometimes the vices aren’t enough, whatever they are, and what you’re doing gets old.
This reminds me of the Doobie Brothers album, “What Once Were Vices Are Now Habits.”
It takes twenty-one days to form a habit. You just have to recognize that and make healthier choices.
There’s a musician who shall remain nameless that I interviewed, who continues to write songs about struggles with addiction and all the related stuff that goes down when you’re not in control. The songs are very good but the subject matter always goes back to the same thing. To me, that’s pain doing the writing.
Absolutely, that’s a keen insight. My wife and I turned our lives upside-down these past few months. We knew a change was needed, and the difference it’s made in our mental health is remarkable. It was difficult, moving out of Nashville after twenty-five years, but it was the right move to make with the kids gone now.
How will that affect your music?
I’d like to put together two or three guys and play an acoustic set. I’ve had a great career working with artists and companies, but I want to do something different.
Be on a road to somewhere else?
I’ve just stepped down from my position as Director of Production at the Opry after six years. I’m still contracted with them to do some producing and editing, but I’m no longer staff. The other thing is I was reluctant to pitch my songs to artists because it’s a matter of integrity, using my position to move along my personal career.
You spoke of fond memories working with artists making their Opry debut. Ray Wylie Hubbard for one, who is in his seventies, just made his not so long ago.
He was seventy-two when he made his debut. It was one of my favourite moments. Pam Tillis had invited him, so she came to play with him. While they were out at lunch, they ran into Larkin Poe, so Ray asked them to come and play with him. They played ‘Snake Farm’ and where else does that happen? It was very inspirational because Ray has had such an interesting life, lots of ups and downs, personal issues he overcame. The collaborations he’s doing now are great to see. Another artist I enjoyed working with was George Thorogood, who was very anxious. Vince Neil from Mötley Crüe was another. Here’s a guy that’s played before stadiums full of people, and he was so nervous because it meant a great deal to him. The amount of preparation he put in to play the Opry was astounding. Both of them never quit. They allow themselves to evolve, and I take that to heart, what it takes for them to get out there.
I saw this clip at the Opry of Chancey Williams, who is an actual cowboy as well as a musician.
He really walks the walk. He gets off the truck and throws bales of hay around.
Let’s turn to the previous album, “AKA Billium.” Where did that name come from?
My stepdaughter gave me that nickname, and it stuck. I like it. Besides, Filipiak is such a difficult name to pronounce, I was concerned radio stations weren’t going to play my music if they couldn’t pronounce my name.
‘Knock Me Down’ is a great song, a little country blues that starts to rock out part of the way through. There’s a sense of struggling. You say, “I don’t understand my fellow man.” It reminds me of an old song by Timmy Thomas that puts forth the same idea. It’s been covered by countless artists. “Why Can’t We Live Together.”
There was a lot going on politically. We are always looking for a way to knock each other down rather than lifting up. It’s about making assumptions based on who we think a person is or represents. ‘Love On Each Other’ has the same concept. The opening line, sometimes it’s so hard to be my definition of me. Why do we intentionally make things harder? When we knock somebody down, we’re doing it to lift ourselves up. And if that’s the only way to do it, that’s pretty sad. Life is hard. Right? We should be listening to each other, helping one another. Sometimes we only get through life by having somebody at our side reminding us of how wonderful we are. We need to be there for the people who don’t have such a person to lift them up. Depression and mental health are real and terrible, and when we don’t help people we are knocking them down.
One song strikes me as a murder ballad – ‘The Ballad of Sweet William.’
My brother-in-law when I was a kid used to call me Sweet William, which I later found out was based on a song from the sixties called ‘Sweet William.’ I was into story songs and that one is just a story, the concept of the old western. The bad guy who’s really the good guy is holed up in a hotel because his girlfriend sold him out. The sheriff comes looking for him, but he got away.
Why did Miss Kitty sell him out? Did you find the Wild West intriguing?
I grew up in a time when “Bonanza” was the big television series. Clint Eastwood was in the spaghetti westerns. I still like to watch them once in a while.
You recorded ‘Marcel,’ which is a cover of a song by the late British folk duo Her’s.
My son is obsessed with Her’s. He produced that for me, and it was his first crack at producing. He’s studying music production now at MTSU – Middle Tennessee State University.
They were killed by a dunk driver, or as authorities termed it a “wrong-way driver.” That song had a reference to surfing, “I want to ride your wave again, tell me I can just pretend.”
I totally missed that. That’s good. Even subconsciously I’m surfing.
You put out a 4-song EP in 2022, three of the tracks winding up on “AKA Billium.” What happened to ‘Southern Yankee?’ That song didn’t make the cut?
That was me being impatient. I put out those songs one per month and sent them to all the Americana radio stations trying to get some airplay. I wasn’t really pleased with that song. It was all about the North and me moving to Nashville. Just a blues riff.
Pretty good rock song, though, and interesting lyrics. “I’m aware that the agony was defeat, I’m a sinner flipping off the elite.”
There’s the rebel, always fighting the establishment. I’d like to re-record it; it’s actually a pretty cool song.
I saw you produced this half hour series called “Breaking Bread.” Miranda Lambert put out a whole cookbook. Are you working on one?
That was through the Opry, Circle television. We were coming up with shows. We had this idea that cooking and music were similar, both creative outlets. You’re sharing a part of yourself while sitting around a table. The show was based on artists bringing in recipes from their childhood or something they ate on the road. Garrett would recreate it, then put his own spin on it.
Do you have a favorite recipe?
Chicken wings. I’m a Buffalo boy. I cook up a mean wing.
‘When the Devil Wants Your Angel’ – You can’t have my angel, pal. Isn’t that the proper response?
I wrote that after meeting Ray Wylie Hubbard. I was taken with his storytelling. The narrator is having tea with the devil, and you find out at the end that the guy and the devil are one and the same. The relationship with his partner helped him to discover the devil within himself. It speaks to what it means to be a man and what we think women want from us.
There’s a picture on your Facebook of what looks like a surf shop with a bunch of boards lined up in front. The sign says, “We become what we think about.”
It’s that idea of visualization, the thoughts we put in our head, what we want to become. I told that to my daughter, who said she doesn’t want to be a dreamer. I told her that a dream isn’t just a dream, a dream should be your blueprint. Your dreams should be your plan of where you see yourself. And the more you think about it, visualize yourself in that role, we become what we think about.
Okay, so what’s the one thing you think about the most?
That would be songwriting. To me, it’s about making that connection with somebody. The hardest part for a teenager is to understand is they’re not the only one going through it. As soon as you recognize there’s somebody else out there who knows what you’re experiencing and can relate to it, that makes you feel better. Most of the songwriters I admire will say the thing that helped get them over the first step was learning it’s not about me. We’re in the service industry. When someone responds that one of my songs meant something to them, that is the greatest compliment I can receive. I’m trying to overcome my own insecurities as a songwriter. Katie Pruitt is a new artist I admire, and she talks about the hardest part as being really honest with yourself. Making yourself vulnerable and honest with people is what I visualize.
So, what’s one thing you wish you could stop thinking about?
That is a great question. Negativity and the walls I put up that keep me from getting to that next step.
On the “Medicine I Need” album, one great track is ‘Hope in Your Heart.’
I love that song. It’s the idea of starting off every day with a positive. I shot a music video for it and used a lot of kids doing childlike things. Always live with some hope in your heart. Believe that it’s going to be okay. It’s true that we get so bogged down with negativity, and we’ll put that on our kids, too.
‘She Still Wants to Kiss Me’ appears to be a romantic tribute to a true love of your life. “All the things I put her through, she’s still there when I start my day.”
That’s my wife, a thousand percent. I’m not sure she still believes in who I am, who I’ve been and who I’m gonna be. That’s having somebody by your side who believes in you and sees the good in you, pumps you up and reminds you how great you are. You know, we’re all imperfect and it’s rare finding that person who allows you to be imperfect and you allow her to be also. Even struggling through the hard times, you’ll fight with each other and fight for each other. That’s the secret. It’s not easy. I make the coffee every morning, and I pinch myself that she’s still with me. I’m very fortunate. When you build your story together, that’s where the true intimacy comes from.
‘Conesus Lake’ – that’s in upstate New York, big fishery, and from what I read two vehicles are mysteriously at the bottom of the lake.
It’s in Geneseo, New York. We all need that place where we can regroup. Everybody has a Conesus Lake or should.
You say, “A man can only fail so many times before he slowly starts to lose his mind.”
Again, that goes back to having that partner who tells you not to quit. When you’re by yourself and fail a number of times, you can go mental. That lake was there when it was needed, but now we’ve got this water in California.
The country blues of ‘Fearing the Dawn’ has a way of getting into your head. “It took me five years to say goodbye.”
That was written for my dad, who recently passed. I never really came to terms with his death. I haven’t let go of the idea that I am now the patriarch. Your security blanket is gone.
The bluesy ‘Thirty Hearts High’ is diverting to listen to but belies its message.
I love its riff. The idea is building a wall around ourselves over time based on the hardships and the relationships that go bad. In trying to protect ourselves, we’re only causing more pain.
You’re playing a resonator guitar in that song. Does that type of guitar present a different sort of challenge to play well?
I’m continually trying to learn how to master it. Mine is a Gretsch Honeydipper. It’s a little bit heavier and has a more robust sound.
Let’s talk about your New Year’s resolution song, ‘Brand New Me.’ You’re looking towards the future. “I need to be a brand new me before the old one is gone, making mistakes.”
You could say that’s very similar to ‘Road to Nowhere.’ It’s that idea of being stuck in a rut, and if I don’t make some changes soon I’m not going to be happy with the result of who I am.
That’s the title song to the album, probably held a specific importance. ‘My Prayer’ leads into ‘Brand New Me.’ You sing, “A day will come when I won’t be unless somebody thinks of me.”
That was written for my mom when she passed away. Whenever somebody thinks of my mom, they think good things. I believe we never really die if people are thinking about us. What will be my legacy? Do they smile or say that son of a bitch? I hope people think positive things about me, but I can be a pain in the ass. When I’m gone I want people to think good thoughts, but in order to have that you must be a good person.
There’s a sweet little acoustic blues called ‘Life is Good.’ That was screened on one of my t-shirts after I got sick for irony’s sake.
I don’t even know where the idea came from. It was written thirty years ago. There are three riffs going on at the same time. When I got my first real adult jeep, a Wrangler, I would drive it on Thousand Oaks boulevard in Agoura Hills where there was a bike path. Being young and ignorant and overzealous, I used to jump off the road when nobody was watching. I’d put in 4-wheel drive to go up a steep hill. I don’t know how it didn’t tip over, but when you get to the top there’s a plateau that looked out over the entire area. I’d lie down on the grass under the stars and take it all in. So, it was getting off the beaten path to find something new.
‘Punch Your Ticket’ has sort of a double entendre. You punch your ticket to something good or you punch your ticket to a boat ride down the River Styx.
That was my attempt at coming to terms with mortality, something I’ve struggled with as far back as being a teenager. That train is coming to the station. You don’t have any choice but to get on board. You can hear it, every day on the news when someone else passes. Things remind you it’s coming. It’s always in the back of your mind.
Like death and taxes as the saying goes. It’s interesting that it’s death and taxes not death or taxes. The government still manages to tax you after you’ve gone. If you had to pick one song off that first record that means the most to you, which one would it be?
‘Put the Top Down.’ One afternoon my kids and I were in the jeep with the top down when a freak rainstorm opened up. At first, they were trying to cover up, but they got soaked and had a blast. Inside the jeep was a disaster, but they were laughing the whole time.
I like it! Don Henley. ‘The Boys of Summer.’ “You got the top pulled down … and your Wayfarers on, baby.”
We can live our lives feeling every pain, every struggle or we can live our lives with the top down. You know some rain is going to come, but if you put the top down, you’re going to soak up all that sun. I live my life the way I drive – with the top down. Put your top down!
