Q&A: ZZ Top’s Billy F. Gibbons pushing the blues through the ‘primordial purée’

Billy F. Gibbons performs with ZZ Top at The Warfield in San Francisco on Oct. 2, 2016. Brandon Jernigan/STAFF.
Billy F. Gibbons is beyond mere Rock and Roll Hall of Famer.
Billy F. Gibbons
6 p.m., Tuesday to Friday, Jan. 21 to 24
Blue Note Napa
Tickets: All shows sold out; join waitlist.
He’s beyond recognizable, be it his trademark length-of-sand-falling-from-the-backhoe beard, his equally sandy singing voice, his cheap sunglasses, his status as ’80s MTV legend or—best of all—his incredible Southern blues guitar playing, which still sounds deeply ensconced in the hands of an old Black guitar player tearing up a sweaty juke joint.
All that, and that man happens to be a pretty big deal in home state of Texas, where they like to say everything is bigger.
Before the ZZ Top frontman plays four solo shows at Blue Note Napa between Jan. 21 and 24, he gave RIFF a few minutes of his time in a Q&A format.
RIFF: You’ve released three solo albums already, so you have enough material to draw from. What’s your plan for this solo residency tour? Will you be playing your own songs or ZZ Top songs? The last album was 2021’s “Hardware.” Does that mean attendees might also get to hear some new material?
Billy F. Gibbons: The usual run is rather on the opposite side of having an actual, tight plan. To the contrary, it’s most often the unexpected, which paves the way with a generous reward. Taking it as it comes offers grinding solidly on the natch. Additionally, we’ve taken the high road to chasing that ethereal moment to work up some new pieces aimed at a new BFG album, forthcoming. Then again, the lot of material, from both then-and-now covers a wide range of choice. A bit of this and a lot of that.
Do you have different stories you want to tell when you’re away from the band? What does playing solo give you that playing with ZZ Top doesn’t?
Billy F. Gibbons: The “story” is the same as it’s always been: You can’t lose with the blues. We’ve enjoyed the outings for quite a while and, of course, running the roadshow across the wide roads provides an opportunity to find the way into some way-out expressions to stretch out a bit. To state the obvious, we’re gettin’ out there to have some loud, good times. It’s pretty basic, we’ll admit, yet spiritually nourishing in a real way.
At one point you had the longest running major recording rock band without a lineup change – more than 50 years. After Dusty Hill died, it initially seemed to many that it was the end of ZZ Top. What made you go on?
Billy F. Gibbons: Our trusted long-standing specialist tech, moreover punk jester, and many-times sideman, Elwood [Francis], accepted the challenging torch handed over to follow the time-tested line, “the show must go on.” A genuine and honorable homage to The Dust and the directive.
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I read somewhere ZZ Top’s sound changed when you got to know OMD in a recording studio in the early ’80s. That’s a bit mind-blowing, considering your styles. You didn’t go New Wave of course, but can you talk about the shift that likely helped ZZ Top become – at the time – one of the most unlikely stars of MTV and ’80s music?
Billy F. Gibbons: It’s always worth keeping an open mind. When thinking about it, Muddy Waters did so when he “discovered” electricity and plugged in. That was a huge technical innovation at the time so, not unlike the ZZ decision to incorporate new technology into the creative process. The MTV thing was pretty much an approaching mysterious glow. We joined our record label’s hint at ZZ taking a shot into a return of a refreshed sound-meets-sight idea.
Our response was, “With us in it? Who’d want to see that?”
And, so we figured out becoming background players in our own celluloid frame. We let the lovely ladies and the infamous little red car take center stage as we kind of lurked in the background as a rockin’ chorus of some measure.
You’ve seen more than a half-century of pop and rock musical styles. I’ve always thought the same basic premise just recycles in different ways. But your blues-based rock and roll is still at the root of all of it. Or is it? What’s changed in a half-century?
Billy F. Gibbons: Everything and nothing at all. Yes, the blues remains at the root of it all, same as it was when starting out and before that, as well. First, the Earth cooled and then, the blues percolated up from the primordial purée as it spread all ways around. It’s just the sound of humanness and, despite appearances, we stepped right in.
After 50 years, what do you want to do that you haven’t? Or is there anything?
Billy F. Gibbons: We did the zero gravity “vomit comet” parabola thing, so we’ve kind of extended our spaced-out experience. We’re continually excited about advances in taco and hot sauce tech, which is what we’re anticipating with an enhanced appetite. The thing we like most remains getting to do what we get to do: Getting out there and turning it up and getting down, on stage and in the studio.
What’s the greatest moment of your career so far? Or the greatest compliment you ever got?
Billy F. Gibbons: The greatest moment has got to be our being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Not just the induction but the fact it was overseen by Keith Richards. We’re still in awe of the Rolling Stones, so that meant so much. Greatest compliment was [when] Jimi Hendrix touted our ability early on. I mean, JIMI HENDRIX admired what we were doing. Could have stopped right there and had enduring fulfillment.
What would surprise people most about your listening tastes?
Billy F. Gibbons: We’re kind of partial to Mexican ranchero music of the late ‘40s and ‘50s. That stuff was inspired and conjured up visions of the Sonoran Desert like an old movie might have.
Have to ask – do you still get offered money to shave? What’s been the biggest offer so far and, after all these years, why not just do it?
Billy F. Gibbons: Quite a while ago, a major razor blade manufacturer offered a million dollars, or so we’re told, and that was when a million dollars was some real money. Can’t possibly do it — we’re too afraid of what we might find under these chin whiskers that we’ve kind of gotten used to. Yikes…!
Follow music critic Tony Hicks at tonybaloney1967.bsky.social.