Little Feat guitarist and vocalist Paul Barrere passed away on October 26.
Barrere was officially joined the group during the recording of 1973’s Dixie Chicken release. He co-wrote a batch of beloved Little Feat tunes (such as “Skin It Back,” “Feats Don’t Fail Me Now” and “Time Loves A Hero”) and even toured in the early incarnations of Phil Lesh & Friends.
Through the years, Barrere also performed as a duo with Little Feat bandmate Fred Tackett, and also maintained a band called Better Daze with musician Roger Cole.
In 1994, Barrere was diagnosed with Hepatitis C, which eventually led to an ongoing battle with Liver Disease.
Earlier this month, Barrere announced he was taking a medical leave of absence, but planned to be back on stage this upcoming January for the band’s headlining performance at Jamaica’s Ramble on the Island.
Following his death, many former collaborators – such as Warren Haynes – have shared their memories of the late musician.
Recently, Little Feat’s Bill Payne shared his thoughts on Barrere’s passing, penning the essay that appears below...
The Fierce Terrain: A Friendship and Alliance
I will leave it to others to memorialize, to exalt into theheavens someone who wouldn’t have wanted it. Paul Barrere was my band mate, myfriend, someone I leaned on and occasionally pushed away. We spent a goodmeasure of our lives engaged in the art of making and playing music with a bandthat could have only been conjured in a dream. But it was all too real. LittleFeat was the one thing that could collectively bring us all together for thepurpose of creating something with purpose, our place of refuge andexploration, of comfort, of dismay, and of ultimately what Paul might havecalled Home Ground.
I met Paul in the summer of 1969 at Lowell George’s rustichome, tucked a bit off Rowena Avenue in Los Feliz. The story of Paulauditioning to play bass with Little Feat is well documented, but what isn’t asevident, or wasn’t to me at the time, was just how well he played guitar. Threeyears later, following the recording of Sailin’Shoes for Warner Brothers, Lowell alluded that he needed someone to takeover some of the guitar duties in Little Feat. He wanted to concentrate more onplaying slide—I thought he also wanted to spend more time writing, and havinganother person in the band might give him more freedom to pursue that and otheravenues. Richie Hayward told me about a warehouse in downtown L.A. where Paulwould be performing and that we should check him out. That evening Paul Barrerewas tearing up the stage with some remarkably aggressive riffs on the guitar.He had a command of the blues that floored me. Richie and I took one look ateach other and smiled. Little Feat is shrouded in myth, of course, so therewere many roads and scenarios as to how Paul joined the band, and given howlife works, they all probably aligned with his becoming the second guitarist. Mythgives way to reality, though, and it wasn’t merely a matter of keeping Lowellhappy; Richie and I had to embrace whomever came in, as well. Paul more than exceededour standards. It was obvious to us he should be in Little Feat. Paul felt thesame way.
The miles upon miles and time warps that envelop 50 years ofknowing someone, the sharing of life’sfortunes and missteps, is what brought me to a convulsion of tears followingthe second to the last show of our 50th Anniversary tour, October 26, 2019. Leavingyet another hotel—I had been away from home for three months--I saw my friendand manager Cameron Sears standing outside the bus. After putting my luggage inthe bay I came back around to ask if he had any news on Paul. He solemnly toldme Paul had passed away at 1:15 that morning. I had been dreading the news eversince he had had to cancel coming out on what would be the last leg of thetour. The cliché that our lives pass before our eyes before we die might holdsome truth, but I can tell you that Paul’s passing left me with a kaleidoscopicmontage of his and my life, interrupted, by life unfolding in real-time. Imagesof Paul and I breaking down in tears after the tribute gig to Lowell at theForum in Los Angeles; surfing with Bert Toulotte on the East Coast; playinggolf in Essen, Germany, with older club members and their Lolita-like caddies;taping a jam at our rehearsal room near Cahuenga and Barham, where we somehow spontaneouslyand simultaneously played a series of licks that came out of the ether, accompaniedby our looks of utter disbelief as to just how we had accomplished that, while muchlater inserting them into what became “Day At the Dog Races”; the drive to hishouse discussing putting Little Feat back together in 1986, resulting in Let It Roll in 1988; plans and moreplans; one of our last calls about his health, his concerns for everyone in theband and his hopes for rejoining us again at some point.
The fierce terrain we were enjoined in over these 50 years wasreflected in our music, in our journey, and in our understanding that none ofit would be easy. Honesty is not always benign, but it is necessary if you areto be truthful to yourself and others. That honesty translates into the songswe wrote, giving them meaning, and why they resonate with so many people. Paultouched many hearts and minds by sharing the gifts he possessed. We have thesongs, his voice and all the inflections he commanded, his incredible musicalsense as a player, whether playing a searing and soaring slide part or a gentleacoustic guitar. He was a master at rhythm and creating stellar parts to songsof almost any genre. I still can hear the laughter in his voice, still feel thereverberations over misunderstandings, along with knowing that throughout itall we were brothers. I know well the intensity of who he was as a musician, asa man, and I honor that.
My tears are of sadness, both for him and for those of usthat knew him, that loved him and that carry him in our hearts.
The souls circle the sun
They play with the moon
Live amongst the stars
Their reflections on theriver
Are gifts to your heart
fromBill’s River Blues
Bill Payne, Montana, October 29, 2019
