Troy Moon, Pensacola News Journal, 05/19/00
Florida Springfest 2000

It's hard to be taken seriously as an artist when your best-known song is
called "Let's Go Smoke Some Pot" and your drummer wears nothing but a diaper on stage.

But Bill Davis, the heart and soul of Louisiana's favorite musical Heathens,
Dash Rip Rock, wants to be taken seriously as a country-rock scribe. He's
got the goods, as evidenced by the more solid, subdued contributions found
in each Dash album, sandwiched between the fun and funny songs such as
"I Want To Be Stuck Inside A Liquor Store With You" and "Big Daddy Like Whiskey."

"Yeah, I'm the drunk jokester," Davis says while on the road to Huntsville,
AL., to watch a bass fishing tournament. "I thought our first album (1987's
"Dash Rip Rock") was an amazing record. But it all got overshadowed by our
live reputation. We got this reputation as a party band."

Do they ever. Dash Rip Rock just might be the top party band in the land.
Lots of drinkin' whiskey on stage. Lots of sexual innuendo in the songs and
on-stage banter. Plenty of bad jokes. Cool covers like a sped-up, hellbilly
version of "Delta Dawn" or a hybrid-cover called "Stairway to Freebird."

Dash Rip Rock is the most fun band I've ever seen, and I've seen them at
least a dozen times," said Monica Harrison, 24, of Pensacola."I've seen them do some crazy ...."

Like scaling stage lights to sing closer to the clouds.

But after 16 years leading Dash Rip Rock, Davis -- the only original
member -- is looking for a change. If only part-time.

So eight months ago Davis packed up and moved to the city that always seemed
to stand for everything Dash stood against -- Nashville.

"We're still telling everyone we're a New Orleans band," Davis said. "But we
run the whole thing out of Nashville."

Nashville? Dash has made a reputation not only brewing up its own firey
country-rock concoction, but by verbally attacking those Nashvanilla country
outfits that wouldn't know Billy Joe Shaver from Billy Joe Armstrong. Yet
look underneath the Nashville stars, and you find a collection of the
country's strongest, if overlooked, songwriters.

"I'm really trying to get something going with country music," Davis said.
There's great music coming out of Nashville now, once you break through all
those phony country acts. Lucinda Williams, Buddy and Julie Miller,  I'm
meeting people like that. There's an amazing underground scene."

But not to worry Dash fans.

"I love living up near the mountains, I like being in a new climate," he
said. "I like working and meeting great songwriters. But I don't think I
could ever retire Dash. It keeps me entertained and from getting to stale.
Plus it's really my alter-ego."

But Nashville has started as a start-over point for Davis, who said his lack
of reputation there has helped more than it's hurt.

"I've spent a lot of years trying to live down my reputation," Davis said.
"But thank goodness a lot of people here don't even know who we are."

But Davis knows no matter how good his songs are, he'll be judged by his
Dash days. Just like former Dash drummer Fred LeBlanc, who left in the late
80's for a solo career.  (LeBlanc now leads Cowboy Mouth from behind the drums).

"Fred always had that problem of not being taken seriously, even though he
is a really good song writer," Davis said. "People would just say, 'Oh,
that's the monkey who climbed the light rig and sang three stories up.' "

Dash's other well-known former member, the lovable, heavy-drinkin' Hoaky
Hickel, left his Dash bass playing job two years ago.

"He's living in Miami," Davis said. "He's a charter boat captain."

Davis is sticking with the music. Maybe more than ever now. He and his wife
have a side-project band, the Swingin' Haymakers, and Davis believes he's
got a truck of great material inside of him.