Photo: Sanjay Suchak

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The release of Deer represents the 35th official recording from affable iconoclast Keller Williams. 2024 also marks the 30th anniversary of his debut album, Freek. He subsequently delivered a single-word titled record most every year to follow, typically welcoming new collaborators and musical approaches in the process.

“I think what still propels me today is that I don’t have too many hobbies,” Williams says with his familiar wry tone. “I mean, I guess I have some, but music is kind of the life and breath of my existence. My family and my wife are definitely first and foremost, but music is what keeps me going. The energy that’s shared on stage between myself and the audience is definitely a high factor that keeps the juices flowing in 2024.”

On the song “The Big One” from 2019’s Add, Keller sings, “I’ve been living every day like it was the last day/ Since I was 19, in Alpine Valley.” When asked to offer context to these lyrics, he explains, “In September of 1988, I went to college at Virginia Wesleyan. By the summer of ‘89, I worked for five weeks, then took a backpack and a guitar case and was determined to go to 10 Grateful Dead shows. I started in Philly at JFK, then went to a couple of days at Giants Stadium and then back down to RFK in D.C. From there, I went to Noblesville, Ind., for Deer Creek, and finally to Wisconsin for three nights at Alpine Valley.

“I was 19 and living this dream of trying to keep it thrifty and make it to the next show, lining up rides and whatnot, just being young. At that time I hung out with so many spun Deadheads who looked at me as a young whippersnapper, and they would implore me to celebrate the fact that I had this youth. I felt like this was exactly where I needed to be, and I was carefree enough to the point where I had the plan of just playing music and being around music for the rest of my life.”

The final song on Deer, “Hippies for the Win” considers the potential social impact of such cultural kinship. “I guess around 2022, it just came to a point of accepting my life and how I’m kind of in this hippie community,” he recalls. “Then I just kind of leaned into it. If you look around and you think about all the things that folks have done with the help of a hippie community through a kind of psychedelic inspiration, it’s like, ‘Where would the world be without that?’ That kind of crunchy belief in finding the positive in everything can be really important because, otherwise, things can get really dark mentally, if you let them.

“It’s good to find a group of folks and a world you can surround yourself in, where people focus on the positive so that, even when bad things happen, we can come together and try to help each other. If we can do that, I feel like we all win. It can be tricky, but I honestly believe that the right people in the right place at the right time can change the world. It’s almost a hope that our world can infiltrate the governments.”

This conversation took place prior to Phil Lesh’s death but Keller later chimed in with his thoughts: “Phil was by far the most interesting bass player in the sense of basslines. No song is really complete without the root note of the bass. Phil would find interesting notes that would work perfectly, yet were not the root. Relative minor? I’m not educated enough in that matter to say. However, it’s really easy to focus on the bassline and realize how unique Phil was.  

“I had the pleasure to join a Phil & Friends tour for eight shows in 1999. I was at every soundcheck, as Steve Kimock was on guitar and Phil and Steve were definitely doing something to me that was desperately needed, since the scene had been interrupted four years earlier with Jerry’s death. The fact that I was on any kind of show featuring a member of the Grateful Dead—albeit, 15-minute tweener sets—was super surreal.

“Over the course of many years, I had the opportunity to do a handful of shows with Phil & Friends. I was never really comfortable and left the experience not feeling so great about my performance. The last show I got to play with Phil was in the Music Hall at Terrapin Crossroads, and that feeling was absent, as it was a glorious set at his own establishment in San Rafael. Terrapin Crossroads was something that really inspired me, as Phil was inspired by Levon Helm, who had turned his barn into a venue that became a travel destination and an epic thing to behold. I really feel Terrapin Crossroads was just that. Not only was there amazing music provided by the owner Phil Lesh, but the scene he created by having bands play in the restaurant every day is something that I hope people will also pick up on and that they will return that vibe to its glory.

“There was a pool of musicians getting lumped together at different times of the day for a set. They all might know each other or they might not, but there was this feeling: ‘This is the band, so let’s figure it out.’ It just seemed to me, a dude from the East Coast, that it was a mecca for young, open-minded musicians. It was very inspirational that Phil created a space where people with like minds and musical tastes could hang.”

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Your albums often build around a theme. Will that big idea typically inform your songwriting process or are the songs already there and your records just reflect that? Can you talk about it in the context of Deer?

When I started on Deer in 2023, I was going to the studio every Tuesday. Prior to that point, starting in 2022, I began to experiment in my own basement with this type of recording that’s super primitive. I have a TASCAM CD recorder. It’s like a stereo component, but it’s a CD player that records discs. So I would lay down my own drum beat on an actual drum kit and then take that CD out and put it on another CD player, then put a bassline over the top of that drum beat. Then I would take that CD out and just keep adding on. So there are no overdubs. I had to do the track all the way through and, a lot of times, it would be hundreds of takes. But I came up with about an hour and 10 minutes of this super psychedelic, mostly instrumental music that I’ve recorded in my Purple Room, which is my basement music room.

This record is called Purps, and it’s 13 tracks or so, but it plays as one track. It’s not meant to be split up into different tracks. It’s super ridiculously psychedelic and kind of raw. There are some warts, some mistakes, but there’s a lot of psychedelic beauty in there as well.

At the same time, I was really diving into all these live recordings of different projects that I’ve been in since the early 2000s. In iCloud, there are lots of different tracks that I cherry-picked from DAT recordings after the weekend over the past many years. All these tracks were recorded by my front-of-house engineer and tour manager at the time, Louis Gossain. He was with me for 20 plus years. There’s a lot of soundboard recordings that are pristine, so I plucked those out and got those mastered. They are in a compilation that’s almost two hours long, so it’s definitely not going to be a vinyl. Both of these records are only going to be digital releases, and they’re going to be released together at the same time.

My last record was called Droll, and that one was extremely psychedelic and instrumental. So I figured I couldn’t release this crazy homemade psychedelic record and this live record after releasing Droll. I needed something in between— something that I felt was an actual, legitimate album with my songwriting. So thankfully, these songs appeared. One of them, “B.I.T.C.H.,” was probably written in 2012, and the actual recording on Deer is from 2012. I ended up working with a band called More Than a Little, where we actually did that song and it came out on the live record called Funk. So I had abandoned that studio record.

But other than that, all the other songs were written recently. The last two songs on the record—“Lean Into” and “Deer”— are from the Purps recording sessions. So they have that raw sloppiness, but there’s a lo-fi beauty to them and they’re very stereo, very left-right.

What are the origins of the name Deer?

About two years ago, I was on my way to Peach Fest on a Wednesday night at midnight around Gettysburg, Pa., when something came right toward me out of the left-side shadows of the road. I couldn’t tell what it was at first, then I realized it was a deer charging at my lights. I was able to swerve a little bit at the last minute, but I hit it. The deer took out a lot of the front end of my vehicle and this was just prior to July 4th, so there were no rental cars, which became a serious ordeal.

I eventually got to Peach Fest 30 minutes before I was going to play. I set everything up really quick, got out there in front of all those people and none of it worked. So I went into my solo mode and did the whole set solo.

That 24 hours really did something to my psyche. Then, right after that, it led into a really strange part of my life as my sound engineer for many years had left, and I was really out on my own. Things were kind of falling apart and I equated it to hitting that deer and it all going down.

Then cut to a year later, and I’m with my new tour manager at the time. His name is Charles Twilling, and he’s been on the road for like 50 years, even though he’s 54 years old—it’s one of those things where he has so many stories and so many different people that he’s worked with and whatnot.

He told me there was a study done where they picked up all the roadkill and did autopsies. It turned out that the deer’s stomachs were full of cigarette butts and their bloodstream was coursing with nicotine. So that’s the title song. The words are as follows: “The deer are addicted to nicotine because of all the cigarette butts on the side of the road/ Open up their guts, see the cigarette butts, check the bloodstream flowing with the nicotine/ The deer are so addicted/ Think about it/ They charge the light, they’d rather kamikaze than jones all night for that sweet, sweet nicotine.”

So much happened because of hitting that deer. My life has been different ever since, and different for the better. I feel like I’ve come out the other side and I’m in a great spot. I think I’ve got my meds right. [Laughs.]

When people look at album credits they often focus on the producer and overlook the engineer. Jeff Covert has been your engineer on multiple projects for many years. Can you talk about working with him?

Jeff Covert is a brother for sure. There’s a studio in town called Wally Cleaver’s Recording that was owned by a guy named Peter Bonta. In 1988, I recorded a demo there, then took it to college with me in Virginia Beach and used that demo tape to try and get gigs.

It was probably 10 years later that Jeff started working there. He was kind of a prodigy, a hair-metal genius at the age of 14 doing all these gigs with his older brother. He’s this amazing all-around musician and they had record deals. Then something fell through, and he eventually started taking over payments for Wally Cleaver’s.

My first couple of records I recorded with Doug Derryberry and John Alagia. Then there was Breathe and a live album [Loop]. After that, I did Laugh up in D.C. with Dave [Watts] and Tye [North]. Then I started working on the Home record at Wally Cleaver’s, which was just two and a half miles from where I live as the crow flies; although I’ve got to go across the river, which then becomes like five miles.

So Jeff and I started working together doing the Home record. SCI Fidelity Records had put out Laugh and they told me: “We’re not done pushing Laugh yet.” I guess “Freaker by the Speaker” was doing well, so they didn’t want to release another record until they were done pushing that one. I said OK, then Jeff and I went and did a full remix of Laugh called Dance, where I took my favorite samples from Laugh and created new tracks using the technology that Jeff had with these loops. He was ridiculously lightning fast and since we couldn’t do Home, we started doing this crazy remix project, which kind of bonded us.

I’ve done so many records with him since, and there’s been so many tracks that he’s played on. He and I are co producers. We definitely argue all the time about different things, but I’m the client, so I always win. [Laughs.] But he is unbelievably cool, and I can’t say enough about how grateful I am for his patience and his techniques.

I tried some new things on Deer. For example, the first two tracks, which are “Two Lips/Tulips” and “Hippies for the Win,” came out of my super unhealthy fascination with my cellphone app called Launchpad by Novation. There are several apps called Launchpad, but this one is called Launchpad by Novation. It’s a monthly subscription; it comes with hundreds of pages of samples and it’s just unbelievable.

Over the past two and a half years, it’s possible I’ve put in my 10,000 hours with this. It’s likely been very alienating to my family and friends, although I’ve since gained the love and trust back from my family.

This combines the music I typically play on stage with my love of electronic music. On those two songs, all the electronic beats and the things like that were done with my cellphone and then played into the computer where I put on additional guitar basslines and whatnot. All the rest of the songs are me and Jeff playing instruments, but “Two Lips/Tulips” and “Hippies for the Win” definitely give you a view into my obsession.

It’s such a weird hobby. I would take two JBL wireless speakers, link them in stereo and take them out into the parking lot at the hotel where I was staying, and then do these mixes.

I’ve gotten into this kind of surf type of skateboarding with these swivel trucks, and you use your body motion to propel you. It’s not like you do tricks or anything, it’s more like a dance. With this weird hobby, I’ve come up with the alter-ego Hobby Weird.

Hobby Weird can be found in late-night parking lots if he hasn’t been kicked out of a parking lot yet. There’s always pavement where he can skateboard. So that’s kind of where it starts, and a look at what has been happening. I didn’t want to go full blown electronic, but I had to represent what I’ve been doing for the past couple of years with this app, and I think I pulled it off with those two songs.

You’re currently in the midst of a 30-year span of album releases, from Freek to Deer. I was wondering if you could share your thoughts on your records, jumping five years at a time and starting with Freek.

Freek was recorded at Rutabaga Studios at a rented house in Arlington, Virginia. by John Alagia and Doug Derryberry. John Alagia had just finished up a record with Shannon Worrell [Three Wishes] and was coming off the success of some Dave Matthews records. Then he found out the day we started our session that the owners were coming back to the house, and they had to be out of there in 30 days. So he was a wreck and it was also very obvious from the first days of recording that we weren’t rehearsed enough.

So he ran out, although he eventually came back and helped, but basically Derryberry took over and he also did the next one. But Freek was my first record. I was very excited and I think there’s a nervous energy all over it. I’m very proud of the 10-minute kind of Bill/Mickey drum jam at the end, which I thought was interesting. You can hear in my voice the amount of cigarettes and marijuana that has not been smoked at that point and how clear and completely different my voice sounds now. [Laughs.] Next?

Breathe with The String Cheese Incident (1999).

I was staying at the Econo Lodge in Boulder that had an inside pool, which is where a lot of the inside cover photos came from. I remember sending them a cassette of all the songs from Key West. I was in my motor home in a campground, plugged into campground power while I was recording all the arrangements. I think we’d been playing “Best Feeling” together, so that one we didn’t need to rehearse, but it was probably the only one.

So they learned the songs, did their thing and the session lasted a week. Then I think it was mixed and mastered over a week on two-inch tape, which is very cool. So it’s got that warm sound that’s absent a lot, although I also think current technology is amazing.

I remember that Keith was late, so I did his bass part for the song “Roshambo,” which he thought was interesting. [Laughs.] I remember Billy and I being in a vocal booth on acoustic guitars for the thing we did on “Bounty Hunter.” We were in there for a little while and it got funky but it was a good funky.

The studio at Colorado Sound was really cool. It was a studio inside a cinder block—a building inside a building, which was really fascinating at that time. They had a lot of cool toys in there and different places to listen. You could listen in the studio or go out to where the couches were, which we called the cheap seats.

Stage (2004).

That was a live album and Stage Left was recorded on the West Coast and Stage Right on the East. When I was playing at Irving Plaza, Taylor Crothers set up a camera behind me with a foot switch so I could click pictures. So there’s an image on there from the back of me with my arms going up and down, and it looks like I have three arms on each side.

Stage also is the home of “Gate Crashers Suck,” which is a song I wrote about the gate crashing of Deer Creek in ‘95. I had been playing it on that run, but that’s the first time I was playing it for that specific audience and you can hear their reaction.

Then there’s Odd (2009).

Odd is just that, it’s totally odd. I was going in trying to write the weirdest songs, like “Elephorse,” which is a song about a cross between an elephant and a horse that’s flying through the air. It’s like bluegrass science-fiction. I also remember Odd having super interesting samples on it.

I worked with the artist Richard Biffle on the cover, and my concept was that I wanted to be riding a multi-headed beast, carrying a staff. I wanted to be chiseled and I wanted it to be me. And yes, it was. It was very odd.

How about DOS (2014)?

DOS is the second Grateful Grass release. It’s from a Rex Foundation benefit with Jeff Austin, Keith Moseley and Michael Kang at the Fillmore. That night, I also got to play with Tim and Nicki Bluhm, and those tracks are going to be coming out on the live record I was talking about earlier that I’m going to release with Purps—that record’s called Friends.

DOS is very loose and celebratory. It wasn’t super tight, but I’m playing with a beautiful group of friends who I cherish. I love and miss Jeff Austin, and I think he shines on that.

Jumping to 2019 for Add.

Add is short for attention deficit disorder. That’s a Wally Cleaver’s record and those kind of flow together. They’re usually done on Tuesdays and Wednesdays because I’m gone Thursdays to Sundays. So that was another one where I’m teaming up with Jeff Covert. Add starts with “Beat My Chest,” which has a vocal bassline that sounds like Jabba The Hutt. It’s not for everyone. I remember that the people in this house didn’t care for it.

Add follows Sans, which was an instrumental record. So the next record was Add—as if I’m adding lyrics, which was the idea in my head.

The symbol for Add was also the symbol for where weed is sold in Colorado. So as far as the cover graphic goes, I was playing on the symbol of addition as well as the green neon sign of a store and also adding lyrics. That’s all in there.

Finally, can you talk about the sequencing on Deer?

I know full well that the reality of it, as far as music goes these days, is that it’s all about tracks. Very rarely do young people ever listen to a full record from start to finish. I had to instill into my son that there are certain Led Zeppelin records where you know exactly what song is coming next, and if it doesn’t come next, people are going to have anxiety. [Laughs.] I put this album together knowing that it won’t be listened to in the way I hope Purps will be.

I’m now using vinyl as a template, and I think that’s where quality comes in as opposed to quantity. You’re looking at 22 minutes a side. Whereas when I started with CDs, you could get 80 minutes on there, so why not use all 80? I mean, what else have you got to do? But now with this vinyl template, I’ve come to understand that less is more.

I’m very proud of Deer and how it came together. Each track is definitely individual and you can even listen to them out of order, if you wish. You shouldn’t do that, of course, but I’ll allow it.