Contributor Vendor and Local Musician“Wild” Bill Warmath Remembered as Artist

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Longtime Contributor vendor and musician “Wild” Bill Warmath died in late August. He was 74 years old.

Warmath was known to folks at The Contributor as a warm and engaging person who loved to play and hear and talk about live music. Warmath often wrote for The Contributor, poems and lyrics as well as a beloved-by-staff cartoon called Eyeballs about a pair of eyeballs who talk to each other.

“Wild Bill spoke with a peaceful Southern drawl. He was deeply creative and if you ever had the pleasure of seeing him perform music you saw his entire face light up like he was doing what he loved most,” said Linda Bailey, The Contributor’s co-editor. “We will miss him around the office and in the pages of the paper. “

His son, Trey Kauerz, was largely estranged from Warmath most of his childhood, but during periods of his adulthood, Kauerz came to understand more about his father. He spent a portion of time helping his dad record an album in Nashville with local musician and educator Shannon Williford. Warmath had a rockabilly sensibility and a playful sense of humor — songs on the album include “Midget Tossing” and “She Wants Your Money.”

“There were periods of adulthood where I did try to connect with him, normally unsuccessfully,” he said. “But there were some notable and memorable moments: I helped him record his music. I helped him to produce an album with some of his friends. He would get copies of the album and sell them alongside the paper to his clients of the paper. That was probably the most time I ever spent with him.”

Warmath’s longtime friend Williford told Kauerz Warmath was locked into his teenage years, and often had the energy and maturity of someone much younger. Warmath lived with addiction struggles and bipolar disorder. He’d also been in a car accident as a young child that left him in a monthlong coma that subsequently affected his ability to learn. He’d played music in venues in the ‘70s until disco and djs took many of the spots he’d played. He had a hard time rebounding from it and often lived in a state of “eternal rebellion.” Kauerz’s mother provided stability, and Warmath’s brother Van was also a presence in his life and was also his pediatrician growing up.

“[Bill] was living a very disruptive life, my mom tried to maintain some kind of connection and it never worked out,” he said. “His life was sort of inconsistent with being a parent, father or in a relationship with my mother.”

Born in Knoxville, Warmath was the son of a preacher and his family relocated often because of being in the ministry. His parents both died the same year when Warmath was still in his 20s, but his childhood had been mostly stable in terms of family.

“Given what I know about his living conditions and health problems, it was miraculous that he was able to survive the many setbacks that life gave him,” Kauerz wrote in an email to The Contributor. “I think his resilience was owed to his positive traits like being gregarious and creative, which helped him win friendships with those around him who in turn supported him when he was down.”

Before working for The Contributor, Warmath was a stagehand for Local Union #69 from the 1970s through the 1990s, a painter, builder, drywall contractor, warehouse worker, worker at Amro Music Store and Banker’s Life & Casualty Insurance and an apartment maintenance supervisor. As a musician he traveled and performed all over the Southeast, working with many Memphis musicians. He preferred to play music, but tried to make money any way he could manage.

Kauerz said he learned enough about him through working with him on his music to understand a lot of what he couldn’t understand as a child. He found out that while Warmath may not have been able to be a good parent, that he had qualities Kauerz could appreciate. Warmath was an artist who liked to and wanted to create beautiful things, make people laugh and play music.

“Now I see the same outgoing and funny traits in my own son, telling jokes and making friends,” Kauerz said. “I’m realizing now that deep inside, Bill had a juvenile innocence held in place by his circumstances. Even though he didn’t have an opportunity to grow up to fight the world or his own demons, he always made it a point to be playful and have positive interactions with friends and strangers alike.”

Kauerz says the family will hold a private, casual gathering at a Memphis bar to celebrate Warmath’s life. As Kauerz wrote to The Contributor about his father, Warmath “would’ve wanted to keep the party going.”

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