Duct Tape, Bedsheets, Fake Blood: An introduction to the insanity of Gary Wilson
Throughout musical history, there have been those artists who are content with existing in the middle of the road, creating palatable, if fairly forgettable, music for the benefit of mainstream audiences. The greatest artists, however, are the ones who pushed the boundaries of acceptability, the ones who were out to shock audiences and subvert expectations. Shock rock became a kind of cliche during the years of punk rock, yet nobody could quite compare it to the bizarre experimental stylings of Gary Wilson.
New York City has produced a plethora of weirdos and musical freaks, particularly through the scene surrounding Greenwich Village and the CBGB club, but Wilson hailed from further afield, in the small village of Endicott in upstate New York. A disciple of early rock stars and teenage heartthrobs like Dion and, later, The Beatles, Wilson proved himself as a musical prodigy during his high school years. At the age of 14, a time in which most teenagers are concerned with underage drinking and a constant battle with hormones, Wilson began experimenting with tape machines in the basement of his parents’ house.
Thus began a storied career of musical experimentation. Joining a group called Lord Fuzz while in school, Wilson quickly set himself apart from the pop sensibilities that permeated through the music scene of the 1960s. In fact, he proved too weird for Lord Fuzz and was soon ousted from the group. Undeterred, Wilson found himself taken under the wing of John Cage, who – somewhat questionably – invited the 14-year-old to his house for several days to discuss and critique music.
From that point on, the music of Gary Wilson started leaning heavily into the world of experimentation and avant-garde. This era of Wilson’s career really took off in the mid-1970s, as subcultures of music fans started to take note of the weird and wonderful, through the advent of punk rock and, later, no wave. The phrase ‘took off’ should be taken with a pinch of salt there, as Wilson never troubled the musical mainstream with his avant-garde compositions, but he did amass a cult following, particularly for his outlandish live performances.
Live performances are an artist’s bread and butter, and Wilson certainly did not allow them to go to waste. Often, even the most liberal of venues would turn off the lights and electricity in an effort to get the songwriter to stop performing – à la The Blues Brothers in Bob’s Country Bunker. In addition to his distinctive music, Wilson would make extensive use of propers during his live shows, with things like cellophane, duct tape, bed sheets, fake blood, flour, and milk regularly featuring in his act.
Moving West, to California, in the late 1970s, Wilson recorded a handful of tracks in the vain hopes of achieving a record deal. Although, once again, the powers that be deemed him unworthy of commercial success, this period did bring him wider acclaim within the avant-garde scene, with groups like The Residents devoting themselves to the brilliance of the composer. Tragically, Wilson retired from his experimental endeavours after a 1991 tour, falling into the pit of obscurity that has enmeshed a wide range of avant-garde artists, but he couldn’t be kept down forever.
After a lengthy campaign by Motel Records to track him down, Wilson was eventually rediscovered in the early 2000s, playing weekly gigs in a small-town jazz outfit, and working part-time at an adult theatre. Since his rediscovery, the experimental master has experienced something of a rebirth. Not only was his early material reissued, but Wilson has gone on to create more wonderfully weird work, as well as collaborating with other artists – most recently Frost Children in 2022. The career and renaissance of Gary Wilson is testament to the fearless individualism and creativity of the composer, and the idea that genius cannot go unnoticed forever.
