A look back at psychedelic-folk singer Timmothy aka Tim Ward

“Maybe I’m High,” a 1972 45rpm single, stamped with a bright yellow label with a green Pear Records logo at the top, indicates it was produced in Lansing. That’s about all that’s known about the trippy track and its performer, Tim Ward, aka Timmothy.

Ward, a Bay City native, first appeared in the Michigan music scene as a member of The Ides of March, an Essexville, Michigan-based teen garage-rock group. It was the height of Beatlemania, and Ward — then attending Garber High School — was just getting started. The band would play the teen circuit across the state, Ohio and Indiana. 

Later, Ward became the front man for The Blues Company. In its heyday, the group issued typical ’60s pop singles like “She’s Gone” (1968), but soon stretched out and dropped scorching progressive rock tracks like the epically heavy “I’m Comin.”

However, by the early ’70s, it seems Ward found a new passion for writing loner-folk songs that seamlessly blended Neil Young-inspired rock with earthy, coffee-house folk vibes. In 1972, under the “Timmothy” moniker, he self-issued his underground classic, the “Strange But True” LP. It’s a bizarre trip of an album, and is now considered an obscenely obscure psych-folk gem. The cover of this private-press masterpiece shows a basic black and white photo of Ward—not your typical “rock star” promotional photo. It could easily be a random pic nabbed from his family’s photo album. Somehow, it works and totally makes sense for this 40-minute collection of intimate, delicate rock ’n’ roll. There are plenty of standout tracks on both sides of this LP, like the upbeat “Down Country,” as well as “Rich Get Richer”— where Ward subtly croons, “They say money isn’t everything/can I have some of yours?” Back in ’72, Ward only pressed up 300 copies of this slab of wax, but it was reissued in the early 2000s, however that limited reissue is now rare, as well.

Also in ’72, Ward cut an equally impressive single, “Maybe I’m High.” This murky ballad is a swirling, hazy journey through Ward’s wandering mind. Layered with an acoustic guitar and moody organ accents, an uncertain Ward sings, “Oh, I love you/at least I think I do.” 

Ward’s impressive ’60s-’70s discography of music shows his slow progression from cookie-cutter a disciple of the British Invasion into his own distinct style. Unfortunately, his output slowed as the 1970s wore on. And, while little is known about him today, he is still a Michigan resident. 

While there has been little fanfare over the past few decades,  in 2009, Ward’s track “Good Mourning” was included on “Wayfaring Strangers: Lonesome Heroes,” a compilation by the notable Numero Music Group. In a Pitchfork review of this stellar folkie collection, reviewer Stephen M. Deusner noted that it wasn’t just Ward taking part in the earthy-songwriter voyage.  

“Most of the acts on the Numero Group's new compilation, ‘Wayfaring Strangers: Lonesome Heroes,’ were itinerant in some way,” Deusner wrote. “They were nature photographers, hitchhikers or touring musicians, and almost all of them were hounded by their local draft boards. Some reluctantly enlisted (Tim Ward); others fought their orders and won (Rob Carr); some lost brothers or friends in battle (Jack Hardy); and at least one fled to Europe (Tucker Zimmerman).” 

For those who are on a continuous hunt for forgotten singer-songwriters, that comp is worth the cash. Of course, finding original copies of Ward’s private-press records is a tough task, but not impossible. Keep an eye out on eBay and at your local record shops like FBC and the Record Lounge. Local nuggets occasionally pop up, and when they do, they are worth the investment. For now, vinyl prices are only going up—so why not invest into Michigan music history?