Have guitar, will play, could perhaps be the calling card of Bill “Mr. Machine Gun” Evans, one of the Springfield area’s most renowned, respected and revered guitarists ever to pick on those six strings. William J. Evans was born in Topeka, Illinois, and along with his lifetime pursuit of music-making, worked at Springfield Memorial Hospital for 35 years, plus served in the U.S. Air Force. He passed away at his home on Oct. 15, 2024.
A telling tale on one’s life must be the tributes that roll in after one’s death. For Bill, along with kind words from family, friends and co-workers, came heartfelt accolades from fellow musicians such as Ken Carlyle, Lyman Ellerman, Ed Sellinger, Tom Fore, Tim Saterfield and David Lumsden, plus many more, as Bill got around (musically speaking) and played with countless folks. The single most consistent mention – after his extraordinary guitar-playing abilities – was of Bill’s kindness and mentoring directed to the other musicians. This is not always the case in the volatile and competitive music world, but Bill truly felt music was to be shared, not only from a stage with audiences, but with fellow players, driving the level of musicianship and friendship upward on all accounts.
Bill started in rock ‘n’ roll in the late 1950s and early 60s out in California, then migrated back to Illinois playing in bands such as the Mar-Vels, the Teenbeats and the Sting Rays. He then moved into other music genres including country and especially the blues, playing in several area combos including White Lightning, Cicero Slim’s WWIII Blues Band, Salt ‘n’ Pepper, the Knight Riders, Springfield Blues Machine and N Da Groove, to name just a few. He also worked with Eddie Snow, Don Ship and John Crisp, plus jammed with nationally known figures such as Magic Slim, Luther Allison and Fenton Robinson, just to name a few more of his many connections in the music world.
In 2014, Bill was formally recognized by the Illinois Central Blues Club as a true-blue purveyor of traditional blues, most directly the Chicago-style, electric guitar-based blues as exemplified by the likes of Otis Rush, Earl Hooker, Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Guy. He was also a singer, becoming a well-rounded performer on guitar and vocals, keeping a steady hand and voice with anyone he performed with, and that was a whole bunch of people.
He picked up the nickname “Mr. Machine Gun” from those early days when he played “real fast,” and rumor has it he got the moniker while working with Cicero Slim. But more importantly than just playing fast, Bill always had the ability to combine smoothness and melody to his quick picking, another trait highly admired by other guitar players and fellow bandmates, as well as much appreciated by those in the listening audience.
In addition to his music-making credentials, Bill knew how to snap a photograph and accumulated an extraordinary number of pictures through his decades of local gigging. He documented bands, venues, jam sessions and rehearsals, and over the years ended up handing a lot of the photos out to folks who wanted them and were in them. In a 2011 State Journal-Register article from columnist Dave Bakke featuring comments on Bill’s collection from the early 1960s on, Bakke called it a “treasure trove of local musical history” and felt it “should end up somewhere like the Sangamon Valley Collection,” and Bill agreed. Perhaps they have and indeed they should. Bill was also quoted as stating that with all the photos “there are so many bands and people that I don’t remember them all,” and after some 40 years (at that time) of consistently gigging like crazy, it’s easy to see why he’d feel that way.
As the fleeting nature of live music is, most of Bill’s art came out as he played, then drifted away into some smoke-filled barroom immediately after, left only in the hearts and souls of all those he touched through his delightful, soulful and vital music-making. There are some recordings out there of his playing and the Springfield Illinois’ Music History site on Facebook contains many of his photos – in fact, the page is dedicated to Bill. For the most part, Mr. Machine Gun lives on through those following in his guitar-fingering footsteps and by listeners remembering how he could make that axe sing. Thanks, Bill, for all of that and wherever you are, we’re betting there’s a guitar in your hands and a song in your heart.
Tom Irwin was late to see Bill Evans play around town compared to lots of folks and first had the pleasure of meeting him in the mid-1980s. Bill was always as gracious as could be, complimentary of others, modest about himself and blew the place apart with his subtle yet fiery and consistently on-target playing in every way.
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Remembering 2024
This article appears in Remembering 2024.
