Unpigeonholable. Is that a word? If not, it should be. Bill's music can't be put into a single generic box. Too many different influences: Chopin to Clapton, Mendelssohn to Monk, classical to country, jazz, folk, rock, fusion, pop, movie music, musicals, standards ... His songs are often short stories with a twist, an unexpected outcome, maybe a little sarcasm and often a wry sense of humor. Some are truth, and some are fiction. He won't admit to which is which, but it doesn't matter, because in the end it's what the listener thinks it is that gives it life. And there's plenty of life in these songs.

On August 16, 1947, in Seattle General hospital, Bill first started breathing on his own. His first memories of music are a red, white and blue 78 RPM record player with Bozo the Clown on the front, and a radio that introduced his ears to Patti Page, Kate Smith and Sinatra.

In 1954 Bill's family moved north to Edmonds, Washington, where Oscar the school-bus driver would lead the kids in singing The Ballad of Davy Crockett. Bill sang in church and for school assemblies, and in sixth grade started playing the trumpet. Soon he was taking private lessons and playing in summer band.

Under mysterious circumstances, (and much to the dismay of the district band director), Bill migrated to vocal music in junior high. It was a good fit. Singing came easy, and the energy produced by the many mixed voices was magic to his ears. He was chosen to sing the lead in the school production of Pickles. Though the singing went fine, the acting didn't — and that was his final excursion into the thespian world. He got his first guitar in ninth grade and formed the band “ The Mayhems” and wrote their first — and only— original tune, Chaos. They were good enough to place second in the school talent show, losing out to a guy who lip-synched to There's Trouble in River City from The Music Man. Politics.

In high school he continued with choral music and was selected as the first sophomore male to join the school's small vocal ensemble. “The Great Folk Music Scare” (as James Taylor called it) was in full bloom, and Bill had a couple of folk groups going: “The New Folk Four” and later, “The BMW Group”. The siren song of rock 'n' roll also called; Bill played lead guitar in various bands, wrote and arranged a few tunes and soon discovered guitarist Howard Roberts. It was an introduction to the world of jazz that would guide his future musical direction. In his senior year, Bill was elected president of the Bel-Canto Choir and was recipient of the Arion Award.

He entered Eastern Washington State College after being recruited by the choral music director, who intended to transform Bill into a operatic/musical stage performer. This did not go well. Though he was developing the vocal chops, the direction was all wrong. So, after dutifully following orders for the first semester, he went home for Christmas, then returned to school carrying his Barney Kessel Gibson and his Fender concert amp. He left the dorm and moved into a very funky apartment with a roommate. They formed a band and even did a stint on the college radio station. Bill's handle was “Dastardly Dean Williams” and his roommate was “Mild-Mannered Marty O'Day”. Throw a few folk singing gigs in and you didn't have much time for academic studies. Goodbye, college. The choir director was not amused.

At that time, the draft was in effect and Bill was a prime candidate. His dad was a Navy WWII Pearl Harbor survivor, so Bill thought the Navy might do him some good. He joined the Naval Reserves and attended electronics and sonar school. After a Wespac cruise with Desron 23, Bill was released from active duty in early 1970.

Within a couple of months a new band was formed. "The Concrete Duck" initially played covers, but soon started writing original tunes, both instrumental and vocal. John Radke, who played Hammond organ and sax, had gone to Cornish and studied jazz, and Bill was becoming more interested in having their music evolve in that direction. Through John, Bill met Jim Knapp, who was developing the jazz department at Cornish. Jim was very generous with his time and advice, and allowed Bill to sneak into a few theory and comp classes as well as write for various ensembles. He was in over his head, but Jim encouraged him to keep at it. After about two and a half years the band had run its course, but Bill and John continued to write and experiment with different instrumentations and players. That ended too, but amicably.

The mid '70s found Bill doing lounge gigs with an old high-school friend. It was the standard bill of fare for the time: Simon and Garfunkel, Carole King, James Taylor, Jimmy Buffett, the Beatles, the Eagles, et al. He also had a chance to gig with, and write for, some young jazz players who went on to become nationally and internationally known. The writing bug was still biting, so Bill bought some recording equipment and started putting his ideas on tape. He studied classical guitar for awhile and did some teaching. He even went back to junior college and made the Dean's List.

In 1978 Bill married MJ. He decided that he didn't want to drag her into the lounge-gig life, so, he took up carpentry as a way to pay the bills. Carpentry was an obvious choice, as he had learned the trade early on from his father. Like music, it provided him with an outlet to create something from the raw materials provided and often led to collaborations with like-minded souls. He joined the church choir and re-acquainted himself with the beauty of choral music. During this time he produced a Christian album for a friend, an instructional tape series on lumber-grading, and a motivational tape series.

He decided to go back to Cornish and get his degree in 1983. Cashing in two life insurance policies to cover the tuition, he immersed himself in the study of jazz and jazz composition. After two years, thousands of sheets of music manuscript paper, untold sets of guitar strings and an inordinate amount of coffee, he graduated in 1985: cum laude, with a BFA in music.

The next few years were spent remodeling their old home, building custom cabinets and furniture, building a custom home for an old high school friend and other assorted carpentry jobs. The work was rewarding and fun. Some great and long-lasting friendships were developed ... and the music was always cooking away. The interaction of friends and family brought new ideas and inspiration. On a whim, Bill entered a couple of tunes in an international songwriting contest. He was one of the top five finalists. That was enough to convince him to get serious about the music again. He's gotten great reviews for his work and, recently, a NY jazz label approached him about doing an album of his tunes.

This song is far from over ...