Bill who? Bill Hyde, that’s who...

So why is this such a big deal? It’s a long story, and it begins on a rainy Monday night at ‘The Fisherman’s’ on Hollingworth Lake, near Milnrow, in 1975-ish.

I was 18 or so at the time, a convert to a new type of music. Through blokes like Bob Downing and Chas Callan, I’d been introduced to a number of powerful folk singers with fabulous names like ‘Red Rector’ and ‘Ramblin’ Jack Elliot’. I’d managed to work out a way to finger pick an ace song I’d just heard called Roll In My Sweet Baby’s Arms, and I was desperate to try it out on an audience. It was a big change for me; all I’d done until that time was to sing covers of James Taylor songs.

I needed a remote venue to try the new stuff out; a place where no-one who knew me would possibly turn up. So, with Pete ‘The Bald Eagle’ Chafer on 5 string and Paul McCoy on mandolin, off we went to The Fish with a plea to Jack Lee that he should give us a go. We went on first and scraped through the songs with more enthusiasm than aplomb.

In the audience were a bunch of guys who looked like they’d just arrived from Woodstock. Four of them; long haired geezers with attitude. They were the guests for the evening and they followed us on to the stage.

What followed was a shock. Here was a really hot band that described what they were playing as ‘Bluegrass’, which I thought at the time was a particularly virulent street drug. They called themselves Silver Hill String Band. They were breathtakingly good. Close harmonies wrapped round the tightest playing I’d ever heard. Anywhere.

As musicians, these guys left everyone else around for dead. J.K., aka John Keegan, was the flat picker, John T. sang most of the leads, Pete Simmons thumped the bass... But at the time, the big star for me was the baby faced banjo player. Here was Mr.Cool himself. He was filling the room with his playing, he made it look so easy. His name was Bill Hyde.

Silver Hill String Band, ca 1976

A few months later, I was naive enough to turn up at Bill’s lovely house on the lake shore to ask him to join a band I was trying to set up. Bill, I recall, was politeness itself and showed no sign of irritation at my unannounced arrival. I remember sitting in his front room for an hour or so, whilst he practised with the aid of a metronome. His was a professionalism I’d never seen before on the ‘folk circuit’. Simply getting through a song with the amateur affability of the time (personified by Jack Lee himself), was clearly not for this guy. He wanted it to be right.

Bill Hyde 1984, with "Free Mexican
Airforce"(Matt Ditchburn's band)

I promised myself I’d follow this guy around, fan style.

But within the shortest time, the Silver Hill dream seemed to end, the band split up and Bill Hyde, to all intents and purposes, vanished.

Milnrow, Littleborough and Rochdale had been a hot bed of bluegrass and ‘Old Timey’, and it all seemed to evaporate. Jack and Mavis Lee moved to The Kingsway, and young daughter Anita joined them in a line up called Hap Hazard. The whole thing became too country for my taste and eventually my chums and I ended up joining the Saddleworth folk scene.

Cut to this year, and the re-emergence of one Bev Williams. Bev - former Edale leading light and compere sans pareil, was give a copy of the North West Bluegrass News. Armed with a list of all the NW venues he contacted Dave Pope, came to The Rising Sun Session, and got the bluegrass bug back. Within weeks, Bev had picked up more contacts through NWBN and organised a new pick at ‘The Wagon’ in Milnrow.

It was just the boost we needed in East Lancashire, and it brought out a number of ‘ghosts’... There was J.K., nervous but still playing with disturbing alacrity. Pete Simmons, same as ever, half brilliant, half stoned. Eric Pollit, formerly of Old Time Express, a walking font of knowledge in all things bluegrass.

And Bill Hyde. With no banjo.

He remembered me, kind of - the spotty git who’d sat in awe years ago. Since last we spoke, he’s had more adventures than Sinbad the Sailor. You might say he had it all and blew it, but that’d be a misunderstanding of the situation.

The demise of Silver Hill is a sad and traumatic story best kept for another time, but essentially, the band were victims of their own success. Cutting to the chase, Silver Hill got some big breaks, but the band were not prepared for it. Group members shared little more than their love of the music and their enjoyment of certain things recreational. In terms of jobs and commitments, they were miles apart.

Bill jacked his high flying job as a chemist, lost his house and his wife, and moved into Todmorden to perfect his art and wait for the phone to ring. He was going to be a professional banjo player. He had the right contacts - Peter Rowan used to stay with Bill when in England and the two remain firm friends - but nothing much happened.

Bill in Florida

Bill went into a period of wandering, taking in The States and winding up in Spain and Portugal as a ‘vacation ownership’ salesman. The evenings were spent jamming in any style from bluegrass to flamenco, and getting involved in unsavoury pastimes. Desperate times. Then he hit his all time low - his treasured banjo was nicked.

He came back to England eventually, and for the last four years he’s been teaching in adult education; Computer Literacy and Information Technology are his subjects. He wound up in here having come full circle; from the middle class comfort of Hollingworth Lake to the less cosy confines of a high-rise Manchester council flat.

“I had a mandolin and it was OK, but I didn’t love it. I had a guitar too, but it wasn’t the same. I needed a banjo”, says Bill. He’s got one now.

This summer has seen sightings of Bill Hyde at Milnrow, at Bev’s occasional ‘garden parties’ and at J.K.’s pick at The Planetarium (see NWBN, Nov.1997). He’s re-built his confidence, he’s come to terms with the catastrophic highs and lows of his life, he’s in the market for a job which suits his myriad talents and he’s back in a band - albeit one that is so far nameless and has yet to make its’ gig debut.

“I’m really excited about it” says Bill, the old shine back in his eyes. “There’s the makings of a really tight unit, the material we’re choosing is good stuff, and there’s a real chance that we’ll be writing a lot of songs rather than just covering standards or favourites. “So what’s the plan? “As far as I understand it, the idea is to record a CD, get out and play the festivals at home and abroad next summer, then just see what happens.”

The line up of this ‘band with no name’ was a closely guarded secret, but NWBN can reveal that it was to consist of Bev Williams of Rochdale (guitar and vocals), Anita Lee of Oldham (fiddle, guitar and vocals) Barry from Skipton (dobro), an undisclosed bass man and Bill Hyde on banjo.

Bill Hyde at Milnrow, 1997

Nothing’s for certain in music - let alone in bluegrass - and in the meantime Bill has become involved in another grouping that could well “go places” - the trio - for so far it is - lines up as Bill Hyde on banjo and Bev on electric bass, with J.K. on guitar and providing the main vocals. So far they’ve done a couple of shows as The Green Machine - a pun on the movie of somewhat similar title - which also reflects J.K.’s ecological bias. They hope to develop this as a working band.

If Bev can do the kind of job he did as organiser of Midnight Flyer, there’s every chance the new unit will achieve its potential. If it does, the results will be something we can all take a pride in. Here’s a bunch of prodigals who are able to return largely because there is a North West circuit, and because the North West has this magazine through which links can be forged or re-established.

If and when one of Bev’s bands cuts the mustard, we’ll all be able to taste the difference.

Ian Reynolds, Blackley, Manchester.

Updated 23rd Jan 1999