Looking back at his decades-long career in music, Billy Morrison knows he is lucky. Not just to have played with the Cult, hard-rock supergroup Camp Freddy or to have spent the past 18 years alongside Billy Idol, but simply to still be alive.
“I’ve been shot, and I’ve been stabbed,” says the British musician. “When I say I should be dead, I should be dead — or serving a long sentence in jail. So, I marvel every day, and I try to remain as grateful as I can.”
Now more than 30 years into his recovery from heroin and cocaine addiction, Morrison is determined not to waste the time he’s been given. And these days, the 57-year-old guitarist and singer is experiencing something of a creative renaissance.
While spending the COVID lockdown at home in his home studio, Morrison felt a rush of creative energy that eventually led him to The Morrison Project, his first solo album in nine years. Released in 2024, the record featured pals like Ozzy Osbourne — with whom Morrison also co-hosted the SiriusXM podcast “Ozzy Speaks” — Idol, Linda Perry, Corey Taylor, Al Jourgensen and John 5, among many others. The songs continued to flow out of him, and this August, Morrison followed up The Morrison Project with Hollow, his fourth solo album.
Just like its predecessor, Hollow sees Morrison tap an impressive list of guest contributors. Godsmack’s Sully Erna handles vocals on “Becoming,” while Duff McKagan does the same on the “Dead Flowers”-esque “Leave No Trace.” Hip-hop legends B-Real, Chuck D., and DMC appear on the rock-rap infused “No Suspects.” Other guests include Marilyn Manson, the Offspring’s Dexter Holland, Nuno Bettencourt and Billy Idol guitarist Steve Stevens.
Seated on his couch with a cup of coffee, Morrison is dressed in the silver and black of his beloved Las Vegas Raiders, wearing a Davante Adams jersey. He first got into watching football while staying up late at night while living in the U.K., and his interest intensified after he moved to the United States. Morrison isn’t particularly bullish on his NFL team’s chances this season, but he is far more optimistic about Hollow and the current trajectory of his music.

Jane Stuart
Do you feel that the new record, Hollow, and its predecessor continue your theme of making up for lost time?
Billy Morrison It’s not that I haven’t been able to. Instead, it’s having the desire to do so. I’ve always had the opportunity to put out music. I’ve felt happy and secure with my position in the music business. I’m not trying to be Taylor Swift or to carve out a huge solo career. I have a home studio, and when I was writing songs, I was having fun. These albums are the result of that. They’re all over the place, but I think that there’s a good consistency to them because it’s all me. I’m putting them out now because I can. Is there a better reason to put out music than just because you can?
How did you approach the songs that you’d perform yourself versus enlisting a guest? What goes into your writing and decision-making process on who to enlist?
By the time the music was finished, it was very clear to me who would be best to sing a song. If you take “The Tailor,” for example. When I’d finished that, it was clear that the best singer for this song would be Marilyn Manson, and I’m lucky enough to be able to text him to ask. The other songs that I sing, for instance, “Hollow,” are very personal, and I was going to be the singer on that track from minute one. I wasn’t going to try and do my best Public Enemy when I could actually get Chuck D. on that song. You go where the energy is in the song.
How do you relate to the lyrics when someone else is writing or singing them? Do you provide guidance on how you think they should match the music?
I’m the producer of the album. I think it’s my job to guide and suggest, and only that. Now I’m very fortunate that most of the people I ask to be involved with me on both of the albums understand me. We come from a similar place in life, and they naturally write in the journey and the overarching theme that I write in. Sully wrote about exactly what I’m writing about in “Forgive Me” on “Becoming.” I’m not going to name names — but there is a song where I had to guide a very, very famous frontman on the subject matter, and I’m not gonna go any further than that.
Did you suggest anything to Nuno Bettencourt and Steve Stevens when it came to their guitar parts? Or was it easy to relinquish control and let them do their thing?
On the last record, I had Steve Vai play on it, and there was no way I was telling Steve Vai what to play. On this record, I had Steve Stevens, because he is my brother in Billy Idol, and Nuno. With the Boston connection with Sully, it made sense for him to appear on that track. Every other guitar solo is played by me because I think it’s about time I spoke up as a lead guitar player. For years, I’ve said that I’m not a lead guitar player, and clearly, I am. Having said that, when you ask someone to guest on a song like Nuno or Steve, I think it would be rude to try and tell them what to play.
Between your solo music, working with Idol, hosting SiriusXM shows and making visual art, you juggle a lot. Do you have any other projects going on — and do you find the various disciplines inform each other?
Is that not enough? [Laughs] I have acted before, but the whole entertainment business is better off letting it come out than talking about, “Oh, I’ve done this; that will be coming out then,” because sometimes it doesn’t. I am highly creative and immerse myself in many different creative genres, areas, and mediums. My art career is flourishing beyond belief, and my new solo album, which, by all accounts, is shaping up to be pretty successful.
Beyond the musical collaborations, you were also friends with Ozzy for a long time. What did you learn from him that translates into your work today?
What I learned from him is exactly what this interview has been about: honesty in music. Be authentic. He was a good teacher.
What do you miss about him?
What I miss about him is impossible to answer. I miss him every day. I miss the laughter. It was like two nine-year-olds when we got together, and it was inappropriate. And we would often get in trouble, but we’d be giggling and laughing — grown men laughing at fart jokes, that kind of stuff. Just a pure sense of humor. I guess if I were to say one thing I miss about him, it’s that he was one of the very few people who never judged me at all. We were both very fallible human beings with a lot of character defects, and not once in the 20 or 30 years that I was his friend did he judge me. He accepted me for who I am. I accepted him for who he was, warts and all, and that is something you can’t buy.
You have a mini-doc that asks, Who the Fuck is Billy Morrison? So… who the fuck is Billy Morrison?
I have no idea. I really don’t. That started out as a tongue-in-cheek comment from my PR company. They were shocked by the last album people had been asking about. They were shocked because, you know, I’ve had a 30-plus-year career in music and been successful, and they said you really should make a little movie. Hopefully it had enough tongue-in-cheek that I’m not taking myself too seriously, but at the same time, maybe answers the question that a lot of people ask: Who the fuck is Billy Morrison? Maybe people know now. Good or bad, make your own opinion. Judge me, I don’t mind, and I don’t care.
This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

