Will Johns was born close enough to rock-and-roll history to hear it through the walls. But Bluesdaddy: Born Into Noise, Raised on Chaos, Saved by the Blues isn’t a story about glamour.
The son of legendary producer Andy Johns and nephew of Glyn Johns, Will grew up surrounded by names that helped define modern music, including Eric Clapton, George Harrison, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and the Boyd family. But proximity to rock-and-roll history didn’t protect him from instability, loss, or the complicated weight of a famous musical legacy.
In this candid conversation, Johns talks about the reality behind that upbringing, finding his own identity as a contemporary blues artist, the music that helped carry him through some of the hardest periods of his life, and the full-circle experience of his 2025 Blues Hall of Fame induction.
For Johns, the blues became more than music. It became a way through.
Q: You describe Bluesdaddy as a story about being “born into noise, raised on chaos, and
saved by the blues.” When did the blues first become more than music for you and start
becoming a way to survive?
A: Well, I would have to say that in 2011, when I was contacted by Clive Rawlings from Blues
Matters magazine in the UK, the subsequent article generated a lot of interest from the UK blues
scene. Up until that point, I had always considered myself a rock, blues, and funk player/artist.
From that point on, due to the recognition of my song “On My Back” and its nomination for Best
Blues Song in the UK Blues Awards, this crystallized my creative vision as a contemporary blues
artist, and everything seemed to make more sense... and cents! The moral of the story seemed to
be: Keep It Simple, Stupid. The blues was always there inside and just needed to be recognized
and nurtured.
Q: Many people would assume growing up around Eric Clapton, George Harrison, the
Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and the Boyd family was glamorous. What do you think
people misunderstand most about being raised in the shadow of rock-and-roll mythology?
A: Well, in my case, I was raised by my mum, who had her own set of difficulties she was
dealing with. We were relatively poor and relied heavily on support from her sister Pattie and
others most of the time.
I would spend weekends and occasional holidays at Pattie and Eric’s and be a part of that world
for fleeting moments, but then I would be returned to my normal life, which was sometimes very
difficult. My mum left my dad in L.A. when I was very young, so I didn’t get to grow up with
the rock-and-roll lifestyle that most people assume I enjoyed.
I had to parent my mum a lot of the time, as she was overly fond of getting out of it in any way
she could, and as often as she could.
Q: Your father, Andy Johns, and uncle Glyn Johns helped shape some of the most
important records in rock history. How did that legacy inspire you, and how did it
complicate your search for your own identity as an artist?
A: Honestly, Glyn was not an inspiration to me at all. I only ever knew him as a mean and dour
man who discouraged my initial attempts at songwriting and performance. I remember him
saying to me when I was about 20, “If you haven’t made it by now, you should give up.”
I also remember he always had the worst halitosis, the worst bad breath imaginable. I’m pretty
sure no one was ever bold enough to tell him.
Andy, like his brother, could also be very disparaging about my singing, saying, “It’s better when
you don’t sing.” Only because Jack Bruce had told me that I could sing well was I able to ignore
those negative comments, which usually came when Andy was hungover from a bender.
Still, coming from such a well-known musical family, of course these days I can appreciate the
drum sounds and recording techniques of both the Johns brothers. But the personal relationship
dynamics were less than inspirational for me.
Q: The book suggests that celebrity is the setting, but not the story. What was the deeper
human story you most wanted readers to understand about your life?
A: I wanted to get across to readers that music saved me from a life of pain and misery. We know
music is a healing phenomenon that brings people of all walks of life and all nationalities
together with love.
I also wanted readers to understand that devotion to mastering an instrument requires a certain
amount of discipline and ruthless relentlessness. The main motivation for me to complete the
book was to record some of the absurdities of my life’s reality, which even I still struggle to
comprehend, for my two sons, Charlie and Eddie.
I wanted to help them understand some of the challenges I faced and explain a little bit about
where they came from. Sometimes a father figure can come unexpectedly as a friend, and the
kindness of strangers can sometimes outweigh one’s own family’s capacity to give.
Q: You write about chaos, addiction, family instability, love, loss, and road-life absurdity
with humor and candor. Was there a particular story or chapter that was hardest for you
to revisit?
A: One of the hardest chapters of my life to revisit was when the dark times of the pandemic hit.
It literally was so life-changing. From performing with Eric Clapton at the Ginger Baker tribute
concert, to the world shutting down during the tour, to getting so ill I nearly died, it was a lot.
Then the breakup of my marriage and the dissolution of the family home fueled the release of
Bluesdaddy, the album. Of course, now I would not change a thing. Some of the things that
happened subsequently while finishing the book all combined to make for an incredibly
emotional and transformational experience.
Q: Your induction into the Blues Hall of Fame in 2025 seems like a powerful full-circle
moment. What did that recognition mean to you after spending so much of your life trying
to become more than a famous last name?
A: The induction into the Blues Hall of Fame was such an honor and the greatest accolade I
could have ever dreamed of. To then have Buddy Guy actually say of my playing, “Now that’s
what you call the blues,” was immeasurably fantastic.
My mum always used to say, “Some people play the blues and some people play the blouse.” It
was meant humorously, but within that anecdote was a lesson that, to me, meant you have to
really mean it. You can’t fake it.
For the longest time in my life, I wondered if I was playing the blouse, so Buddy’s words meant everything to me.
About Bluesdaddy
Bluesdaddy: Born Into Noise, Raised on Chaos, Saved by the Blues takes readers beyond the mythology surrounding Will Johns’ famous musical family and into the deeply personal story underneath it—a life shaped by music, family, addiction, loss, survival, and the blues.