David Wilcox is a brilliant entertainer. David Wilcox is a great guitar player. David Wilcox is unique, a natural. David Wilcox is a soulful songwriter/singer. David Wilcox first made his name as a solid showman, then as a rockin’ axemaster. Ultimately, he has proved his worth as a multifaceted creative force. David Wilcox continues to make original eclectic music that you really ought to hear.
Yes, it’s all true. But at this point, after more than 20 years of music-making -- including many tours, numberous gold and platinum albums, a hatful of awards and nominations, and countless fans -- it’s no stretch to say that David Wilcox deserves consideration as a Rock Icon.
His life in music is the stuff of legend -- or at least, legendary proportions. Born in Montreal and raised in Toronto, Wilcox discovered Elvis at age six (“He upset grownups and he was popular with girls”); started picking guitar one year later; and played his first gig -- to a roomful of ex-convicts, one of whom threw a chair at him -- at age 12.
Eventually, Wilcox -- a devoted folk-blues picker -- bought a second-hand Telecaster from a pawnshop, on a whim. He didn’t even know how to turn on an amp when he auditioned for Canadian legends Ian & Sylvia. Wilcox got the gig anyway -- and spent three years in their band, The Great Speckled Bird, backing the likes of Anne Murray, Charlie Rich and Carl Perkins on Ian’s weekly nationwide TV show.
Ironically, at the Mariposa Festival in 1987, the once-acoustic Wilcox inspired some consternation among performers by playing an electric bluesrock set at a “folk” fest. Like Dylan at Newport, 1965 -- except Wilcox drew one-third of the weekend’s total draw on the opening night; the audience loved it, as usual; and nobody said “boo.”
Wilcox led his first big-time band, The Teddybears, in the mid-70’s, hitting local stages as a flashy vaudevillian character. He wore a well-waxed, oversized moustache, a baggy suit, a silk tie, lace cuffs and a fake flower in his lapel. He also boasted an intelligent, fine-tuned sense of the absurd that such costuming suggested. Wilcox gave away sets of invisible dishes onstage; wrote songs like “Old Cats (know how to land on their feet)” and “Don’t Let The Devil Take The Beat From The Lord”. According to one report, he “melted every heart in the Toronto music business.”
From the late 70’s to the early 90’s, Wilcox shed the style and hit his stride as one of the killer bluesrock `n’ roots guitarists in Canada, ever. He also proved himself as one of the most exciting, passionate showmen on the scene: Wherever Wilcox played, he left exhausted, happy audiences who danced, clapped and laughed their way to a great time. And with consistent radio play for his songs, audiences were calling for “Hot, Hot Papa” instead of howling “Play some Led Zeppelin, man.”
Wilcox became a legendary college favourite, playing more than 300 dates a year, and earning awards from COCA (the Canadian Organization of Campus Activities) for Entertainer Of The Year (1985) and Contemporary Music Recording Attraction (1987). He was said to be the highest-grossing campus performer in Canada. He had signed a deal with EMI in 1977, and -- largely on the strength of his live show -- all five of his albums with the company went gold (50,000 copies sold in Canada).
Through it all, Wilcox gained an equally legendary reputation over his lust for excess. In his personal life, as in his music, he seemed not so much to be burning the candle at both ends as applying a blowtorch to the entire candelabra. On his first three albums (Out Of The Woods [1980], My Eyes Keep Me In Trouble [1983] and Bad Reputation [1984]), when Wilcox wasn’t singing -- confessionally -- about sex (“The Grind,”), drugs (“Riverboat Fantasy”) and rock ‘n’ roll (“That Hypnotizin’ Boogie”), he was documenting the talk of the town fostered by these earthy pursuits (“Bad Apple,” “Bad Reputation”).
Round about the late 80’s, Wilcox moved from campus pubs to concert halls, slowed down his schedule and cleaned up his act some. And -- he truly became a Recording Artist, moving from gritty, live-in-the-studio bluesrock `n’ roots to more produced, synthesizer-and-drum-program Modern Rock. Meanwhile, the lyric themes of his songs broadened and diversified.
The albums from this era (Breakfast At The Circus [1987], The Natural Edge [1989]) are stylish, textured, and idiosyncratic, but the songs still shine through, many better then ever: The witty, multiple double-entendres of “Layin’ Pipe”; the fine absurdities of “Breakfast At The Circus”; the sad requiem of “The Song He Never Wrote,” sounding almost like Wilcox’ eulogy to his excessive side; the be-bop deluxe of “The Natural Edge”; and the sweet, anthemic pop of “Lay Down In Your Arms.”
Wilcox returned to his small-scale, acoustic roots in 1996 with the clean, simple production of Thirteen Songs. Playing stripped-down music with a small band, Wilcox covers everything from lounge-bar, sax-and-organ jazz (“Rainy Night Saloon”) to modal folk (“Shotgun City”) to nasty blues (“Three Past Midnight”). The perspective is always evolving, yet rooted in a deep, mystic spirituality that values freedom above all. Wilcox still plays the guitar just like ringing a bell, but the songs are stronger, larger in scope, more deeply resonant. Thirteen Songs includes what may be the best song Wilcox has ever written and/or sung: “God Is On A Bender” is a unique work of genius.
So what now? The year 2000 finds David Wilcox recording a stellar collection of songs that returns to the hard-rockin’, blue-rooted sound of his earlier work, but from a more contemporary perspective. It’s a compelling combination.
The hard, Muddy Waters-meets-Jimi-Hendrix riffery of “Hook It Boy” offers the toughest guitar tone Wilcox has used since his debut album; “I Need A Vice” is a clever, sharply-observed confession; “High Water Rising” is a beautiful soul ballad with some subtle but irresistible filigree guitar work; and “Rhythm Of Love” is a percolating shuffle that’s strong enough to reaffirm the faith of both performer and listener.
As Wilcox sings on “Hook It Boy”: “I can be anything if I want/ Martha Stewart or Jacques Plante.” Over the course of his career, Wilcox has earned the right to that freedom -- and the best part of it is, he still uses it to make great, great music.
