Bloodshot Bill Tells True Dead Body Stories, Talks Being Banned From the United States
Photo by Tim Snow
Murder, blood, naked girls, weed, food, and beer ... These are the staples of life on the road for Bloodshot Bill.
The greasy-haired, foot-stomping, guitar-strangling Canadian wailer has been banned from the United States. He's rock 'n' rolled a naked dance party. He's even taken a bath in a tub once full of body parts.
Coming to Miami for a gig at Wynwood's Gramps, he's looking forward to a cold brew and some good grub. Here's what he had to say about it all.
Crossfade: What's your history with Florida?
Bloodshot Bill: I passed through there a whole bunch of times. Once was during Hurricane Ivan. It was a wild time. Then we caught another hurricane on the way to New Orleans.
Have you ever played Miami?
Yeah. It was great. Last time I was there was with my band with King Khan, called Tandoori Knights. The whole club went crazy Indian on us. All decked out. It was real cool. That was two years ago.
Didn't you have a problem at the border?
Yeah, I was banned from the States for five years for stupid stuff. Being a musician, you need papers to cross the border, even if you make a penny. I got banned for five years for that. That doesn't happen to most people. It was insane. It's a tough border between Seattle and Vancouver.
Hell yeah. Borders are stupid.
It's really stupid. We're all North America. In Europe, they cross anywhere. They don't need papers or whatever the hell. It should just be, like, "come on in." In general, why even have a border.
What's the deal with your big naked dance party?
In Tucson? Yeah, that was great. Tucson, Arizona, is one of the strangest towns, but everyone there is pretty awesome. This one time, these girls were goin' nuts on each other in the bathroom. This one girl, she's spanking the other girl, and then she starts spanking me, and then we all went across the street with all these people to this big loft and I hop on the drums and all these girls just got naked as shit and started dancing.
What's your dead-DJ-in-the-wall story?
That was Winnipeg. It was the craziest shit. I was playing the Royal Albert, this sleazy place, a real dive with a hotel above it, where people pay, week to week, to live, and the band gets a free room. We get there and the front page news is "body found dismembered at the Albert." Actually, it was dismembered, decapitated, and disemboweled. This Hollywood movie called Shall We Dance with Susan Sarandon had been shooting in the area and they found a bunch of her jewelry there too with the body in room 309. That's my first dead body story.
Oh, shit, there's more?
The next was at the Collective or the Pyramid. The DJ had been missing for months. There was a place out back where everybody went to smoke and it had this weird smell. I just figured, "Whatever." But it turned out that the smell of the smoke and the drink covered the smell of the body behind the wall. The DJ had gone back there to hide from some people he owed money to, and he asphyxiated. They didn't find him for a long time. That was the second dead guy.
What the fuck?
The third time was back at the Albert when I got the fuckin' murder room. I was fuckin' stoked as shit. The walls were painted lime green and you could still see the lines of blood through the paint. I made sure to take a bath in the same tub where they found all the body parts.
Why wear pajamas up on the stage?
I usually sweat a lot and I didn't wanna mess up my clothes, so I did it one time. It felt comfortable. Like from the get-go, I was at home, so I kept doing it. It's nice and just relaxing.
What you think about weed?
I think about it constantly. It's a problem if I can't find it.
What's a good beer?
Black label. Carling Black Label. But I'll drink the local shit when I get there to Miami.
Is it true that some Walmart was once selling a bootleg t-shirt with your picture on it?
Yeah. That was totally weird. My friend sent me a picture of it on Facebook, and then she sent me the actual t-shirt. So I have one.
What's your background?
I'm half Italian, half Trinidadian. Call it Trinitalian. It means that I just love fuckin'.
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Bloodshot Bill. With the Wildtones. Presented by Cheap Miami, Gramps, and Strutter USA. Saturday, April 12. Gramps, 176 NW 24th St., Miami. The show starts at 8 p.m. and admission is free. Ages 21 and up. Call 786-752-6693 or visit grampsbar.com.