For all his acting chops, screen presence and resumé of hit movies, Billy Bob Thornton considers himself a musician. Although he’s got five new films stacked up like planes over LAX, Thornton would rather talk about “Private Radio,” his very first album, released this week on the Nashville–based Lost Highway label.
“Music’s really my first love,” says the Arkansas native. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and that’s what I was doing when I got into the movie business.”
Thornton left Hot Springs for Hollywood in 1981, and after a few years of scrambling hit the jackpot when he starred in 1996’s “Sling Blade,” which he also wrote and directed. “It wasn’t like I gave up music to become an actor. I just came to California to see what I could get going anywhere, in any way.”
“Private Radio” has a smoky, neon–and–beer feel to it; Thornton’s singing voice is somewhere between Merle Haggard and Leonard Cohen. He talk–sings many of the songs over a sinewy, noir country groove provided by producer Marty Stuart and a band of Nashville pros. He’s well aware that the road is littered with albums made by movie stars who thought they could sing, vanity projects by people with no business in a recording studio. “If I were going to make a vanity project, I would have made something far more commercial than this,” Thornton, 46, says. “This is honestly what I wanted to make.”
Thornton, whose most recent films were the back–to–back hits “A Simple Plan” and “Pushing Tin,” found that his cinema celebrity allowed him the time to write and record his album.
“These days I have the luxury to pick and choose, and I can do one or not do one if I want to,” he explains. “And my wife and I bought a house about a year and a half ago, and it had a world–class studio in it. That’s the main reason we bought the house, really. We loved the house, but that was a big selling point.” The house’s former owner was Guns N Roses guitarist Slash, who built the studio.
Thornton’s wife, as the world knows, is actress Angelina Jolie. Two of the “Private Radio” songs — “Angelina” and “Your Blue Shadow” — were written for her.
“She was there the whole way,” Thornton says. “What was great about making the record in the house was, she’d be upstairs watching TV or whatever, and every now and then she’d drop down to the studio. She cried the first time she heard the record.
“Since she’s been with me, she’s gotten a sort of musical education to some of the old music. She’s an Allman Brothers fan now, too.”
Thornton grew up with his parents’ Jim Reeves and Haggard records, but once he heard the Allman Brothers Band, his world shifted.
“Growing up in the South, we all wanted to play music,” he says. “Music was such a huge deal to us. We all grew up listening to what our parents did, and so we heard a lot of country music. But we kind of wanted, as kids, to separate ourselves from country music because it’s what our folks listened to. So there was some rebellion — and when the Beatles came along, we said OK, this is my music.
“But they were English. So I think when Southern Rock came along, that was the most direct place for us to plug in. It was not what our parents listened to, but it was still from down here with us. It’s like our own thing, and yet it’s rock music. We could still feel rebellious and yet loyal to our place, because it did have a Southern flavor to it.”
Thornton started playing drums and singing, and he went through numerous local bands. “We were so into hanging out with everybody,” he recalls. “And I never wanted anybody to leave. When we were all together, I was always one of those guys who never wanted to sleep, I wanted to stay up all the time.” Of course, he says, in the early ’70s there was plenty of chemical support for musicians.
“So when I saw the Allman Brothers, and you opened up the record cover and everybody’s there — they got a ranch where they all live, with wives and babies and friends … I can remember as a teen–ager, we didn’t give a sh–– if somebody could play something or not, they were in the band. We’d have a band with 15 guys in it sometimes; we’d have like nine conga players.”
Eventually, Thornton and two buddies put together Trés Hombres, a ZZ Top tribute band (as the drummer, he was the only one who didn’t have to grow a long beard). Today, several members of his regular film crew are musicians, and Thornton is famous for his weekend jam sessions — stress relievers during production.
Most of his friends are musicians, he says, and he’s well–known for showing up, unannounced, to introduce ZZ Top or Lynyrd Skynyrd to a delighted audience.
Starting next month, he’ll be all over movie screens: The Barry Levenson comedy “Bandits” (with Bruce Willis) comes out Oct. 12, followed by the Coen Brothers’ “The Man Who Wasn’t There” on Halloween.
“Daddy and Them,” which Thornton also wrote and directed, will be released in early 2002, along with the drama “Monsters Ball” (co–starring Halle Berry) and the comedy “Waking Up in Reno” (with Charlize Theron).
“I guess when people are aware of you, and you’re in the papers all the time for whatever the latest crazy thing I supposedly did, people assume you’re out there all the time,” Thornton says. “But I haven’t been in a movie since ‘Pushing Tin,’ and that’s been damn near three years ago.
“I’m so proud about this stuff coming out. Everything we got coming out is real strong.”
What Thornton wants most of all is for his fans to give “Private Radio” a shot — check it out for the music, not because he’s got a famous name and face.
And anyway, that’s how he built his reputation — on the work. “I’m real lucky, because I didn’t make it as a superstar,” he says. “I made it as a character actor. So once I became a movie star, people forgive me more in terms of the kinds of parts I play.
“They don’t want Mel Gibson to play anybody but Mel Gibson. I’m fortunate enough to be able to play all kinds of different things, so my choices are a little more open.”
@2001 Bill DeYoung (published in the Gainesville Sun)