Florida's Classical Music Station
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

Last man drumming: Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Artimus Pyle

Man with beard and long hair wearing glasses and white tshirt drumming on stage
Publicity photo
/
St. Pete Catalyst
Artimus Pyle is the last surviving member of Lynyrd Skynyrd. 

The Artimus Pyle Band pays tribute to Ronnie Van Zant Oct. 10 in Largo.

In the nearly 49 years since the tragic plane crash that took Lynyrd Skynyrd down, killing the band’s singing/songwriting frontman Ronnie Van Zant, guitarist Steve Gaines and backup singer Cassie Gaines, time has done its due diligence on the musicians who got out alive.

Guitarist Gary Rossington was the last surviving member of the Florida-founded southern rock band; he died in 2023. Today’s Lynyrd Skynyrd, based in Nashville, doesn’t include a single musician who ever played on the same stage when Ronnie Van Zant was singing “Free Bird,” “Sweet Home Alabama” and “What’s Your Name.”

There is, however, a last man standing. By Oct. 20, 1977, when the band’s chartered aircraft ran out of gas and crashed into a Mississippi swamp, Thomas “Artimus” Pyle had been Skynyrd’s double-bass drummer for three years.

He was part of the family and part of the engine, playing on the album Nuthin’ Fancy, Gimme Back My Bullets, One More from the Road and Street Survivors.

He and another passenger struggled out of the wreckage and crawled to a nearby farm for help.

Although Pyle was included with the freshly-reconstituted Lynyrd Skynyrd in the late 1980s, along with Rossington and the other survivors of the tragedy, he’s been on the outs with the band members’ families, estates and business interests for decades. Lawsuits have flown like free birds over memoirs, movies and naming rights.

He fronts the Artimus Pyle Band, which will visit Largo’s Central Park Performing Arts Center Oct. 10. The group also includes Barry Lee Harwood, Jerry Lyda, Johnny Jump, Joe “Boogie” Simmons and Thane Shearon.

The Artimus Pyle Band’s show is called “Honoring the Music of Ronnie Van Zant’s Lynyrd Skynyrd.”

Find tickets at this link.

Old photo of group of men with longer hair posing in casual clothes
Publicity photo
/
St. Pete Catalyst
Lynyrd Skynyrd in 1977, from left: Leon Wilkeson, Allen Collins, Ronnie Van Zant, Gary Rossington, Artimus Pyle (standing), Steve Gaines (front), Billy Powell.

St. Pete Catalyst: A lot of water has gone under the bridge in 49 years.

Artimus Pyle: There’s a band out of Nashville that calls itself Lynyrd Skynyrd, but if Ronnie Van Zant is not your lead singer, it’s not Lynyrd Skynyrd. That name should be retired, just like a jersey and a number from an NBA player.

Anybody that uses the name Lynyrd Skynyrd must be required to add: A Tribute. That’s what we are. I would never, ever call my band Lynyrd Skynyrd. Because without Ronnie and Steve and the guys, we are just paying tribute. And that’s what they do, but they call it Lynyrd Skynyrd.

You said a long time ago that you think about the band, and the plane crash, every day. Is that still the case?

What I mostly think about is the good stuff. Of course, there was a lot of bad stuff, but there was more good stuff. The fact that Ronnie and Steve had just come together, and there was going to be many more great duets like “You Got That Right.” There was going to be a lot more incredible writing between Steve and Ronnie. Of course, that never happened. Ronnie was coming into a renaissance period, where he was writing better than ever, and Steve was fresh … they were so good together.

In front of 100,000 people or more, Ronnie would walk offstage, maybe towel off, have a drink of water and maybe a smoke, and let Steve Gaines sing “Ain’t No Good Life,” by himself, with his (Ronnie’s) band. That showed me the incredible confidence that Ronnie had in Steve. And also in himself.

Name me one lead singer, in the greatest of rock ‘n’ roll bands, that would walk offstage in a stadium full of people and let somebody else front his band? I watched it every night.

We were a group of friends, a family. A camaraderie, a work ethic. Ronnie had an amazing work ethic, and so did we all, because of the inspiration. So there’s lots of good stuff to think about, above and beyond the bloodsucking weasel attorneys.

You’ve had a number of sold out dates in Florida recently. Do you think people come to see you because you are a legitimate connection to the actual Lynyrd Skynyrd?

I hope they do. I hope it’s out of respect and everything. But my band, Jerry and Scott and I, have been doing it for 17 years, through thick and thin. It’s hard for us to tour, and finding gigs that we can play. The band out of Nashville won’t even get on a tour bus for less than $200,000. And we’re not like that. We like to get paid, like anybody else, but we’re not greedy. We get on a bus and travel 20 hours in one direction, play one show and then 20 hours on the bus back home. Nobody does what we do.

But gigs are not easy to find, and I have issues – false charges that were brought against me that cause us problems – so we take ‘em where we can get ‘em. And we travel a long way to get ‘em.

We don’t do it for the amount of money that people think; we do it for a lot less. And I’m proud of my band for doing that.

Judy Van Zant (Ronnie’s widow) came to our show in Jacksonville last week, and she was blown away by how genuine, sincere, energetic that the band is. I’ve always wanted Judy to hear us. She was going to stay for one or two songs, and she stayed for the whole show. She came backstage and gave us all hugs.

So at this point, man, it’s all good.

Back to the water under the bridge. You haven’t exactly been on the best of terms with the band from Nashville, the Van Zant family, the Rossington-Collins people, et cetera. When Judy did that, was that cool – did that mean something special to you?

Absolutely! I stopped talking to all of them for a reason. And it’s a good reason. At this point, I forgive everybody. And I don’t want to be mad at anybody. Things happened in the past, a lot of it lawyers, managers that ripped us off. Cocaine dealers that ruined my band.

You know, I saw a lot of them at Gary Rossington’s funeral service, and they couldn’t understand why I didn’t come up and shake their hands. A lot of them asked for selfies and I said absolutely not, not at Gary’s service.

I felt like they worked Gary to death. He was 71 years old. He could have lived a lot longer. But they would always push him back out on the road after he had a heart attack. That pisses me off. Any surgeon would tell you, Gary should have had six months to a year to recover. And then go back out strong.

All they’re worried about, that crowd in Nashville, is money, money, money. And I have an issue with that. Because what we do is about the music. What Ronnie was about was the music. Sure, he liked his brand new car. He liked his house. He liked being successful.

But he never went away from the impetus of his heart and his soul, which was the music. Those songs will be here a thousand years from now.

This content provided in partnership with StPeteCatalyst.com