Fiasco
Continued from Page 12
awaited four-day hiatus.
But upcoming break or no upcom
ing break, Willis is still dedicated to
churning out more rock ‘n’ roll for his
fans.
Before Wednesday’s show, he de
cides that it’s time to work on the
packaging for his next solo release. So
he heads for Alphagraphics, located at
14th and P streets, and a group of
about 10 awestruck and amused fans
follow him.
In the copy shop, Willis settles up
against the counter and spreads his
notebook before him. As the store’s
employees work on his order, he tells
random stories of life on the road, his
latest recordings and his next record
ing, which he announces will be titled
“Alphagraphics.”
“I recorded a 24-song album just
yesterday,” he says, surveying the
watchful eyes of the fans who sur
round him.
He holds up an open hand, as if
under oath.
“I recorded a 24-song CD in 4 hours.
Do you believe me?”
The fans nod, and he turns back to
his notebook. Willis reads his latest
batch of polished lyrics, a somewhat
sickly tunc called “Suck a Camel’s
Booty Hole.” In short, it involves bes
tiality and condiments.
Of course, the teen-agers who sur
round Willis love it and ask for more.
And, of course, Willis obliges them.
When Wil lis final ly leaves the store,
about four or five fans stay in hot
pursuit. He crosses the street, speak
ing with a booming voice that would
be hard to imagine at a low volume.
“Tonight, I will rock Mudslide
Slim’s,” he says mattcr-of-factly. “I
will rock Lincoln, Nebraska.”
He waves at fellow pedestrians and
shouts his standard greeting.
“I’m Wesley Willis, pleased tomect
‘cha!”
Some people wave back and others
simply stare, but everyone notices him.
Inside Mudslide Slim’s, the atmo
sphere is smokier and louder,but Willis
is still the center of attention. He chats
with the fans who approach him and
tries to sell more of his CDs, as well as
some of his artwork from a large plas
tic sheath.
He doesn’t shake hands, but rather
asks people for head butts. When fans
agree, Willis grabs the backs of their
heads, presses their foreheads against
his and lets out a celebratory roar.
Soon, he stops talking to the fans
and asks for a chair. He sits down and
pulls one of the massive works in
progress from his sheath. It is a finely
detailed cityscape, a crowded express
way with large, thin-lined buses and
block-like cars without wheels.
Spreading it across his lap, he goes
to work on it with a marker and ball
point pen.
Now, the fans just watch.
***
Meiners spends his pre-show time
in a little more traditional way. He sits
in a booth near the front of the estab
lishment, sipping beer from a
longnecked bottle and puffing on a
recently purchased cigar.
In addition to his role as lead guitar
ist and founder of the Wesley Willis
Fiasco, Meiners is Willis’ roommate,
guardian and best friend.
“He lives in a different world, one
that most people have a hard time
understanding,” Meiners says.
“If people aren’t used to dealing
with people like Wesley, people who
function in a different society, they
have a hard time getting along with
him.
“Pretty much every one of my
friends functions in a different world,
so I’ve never had a real problem with
him.”
Willis was diagnosed several years
ago with schizophrenia, Meiners says,
but his problems go beyond that.
“Obviously, schizophrenia is the
worst of his problems, and that’s what
he’s medicated for. But there is too
I——
much going on in his head ... he’s
never had a thorough enough diagno
sis to discover everything.”
Despite Willis’ obvious problems,
Meiners says, he has never been a
threat to himself or others.
“He never gets violent; he never
throws tantrums or anything like that.
The only problem we’ve ever had is
that he used to go and check himself
into hospitals all of the time when it
really wasn’t necessary.
“The government was paying all
his bills, so I spent a lot of time trying
to get him back out.”
If anything, Meiners speaks of
Willis with a sort of reverence. A warm
grin creeps onto his face whenever die
man’s name is mentioned.
Meiners met Willis in 1992 in a
Chicago art store. Immediately im
pressed with Willis’ work and his out
going personality, he offered Willis
the opportunity to hold an art show in
his loft.
Willis, whoat the time was livingin
the housing projects on Chicago’s
South Side and surviving by sel ling his
drawings on the street, eagerly ac
cepted Meincr’s offer and a friendship
was formed between the two.
Soon after, Meiners convinced
Willis to move in with him and Willis’
father transferred custody to Meiners.
Willis always had been an artist,
but he never had worked seriously
with poetry. But he soon became inter
ested in the work Meiners did in the
recording studio he had in the loft.
“He was pretty slow to get into the
music thing,” Meiners says. “He didn’t
think there was any money in it.
“He was making enough money
selling his drawings, and it wasn’t un
til I recorded some of his songs and
gave him some tapes to sell that lie got
really interested.”
Since then, Willis has recorded
about 15 solo albums, one album with
the Wesley Willis Fiasco and a hand
ful of split 7-inch singles with other
bands.
Willis’ massive musical output and
his dedication to all of the art forms in
which he works are evidence of his
approach to life.
“He has a real method to his art, and
he is completely honest with it. His
stuff is some of the best I’ve ever
seen,” Meiners says.
“He’s the hardest-workingguy I’ve
ever met.”
***
It’s show time in Lincoln, and
Wesley Willis is ready to rock.
Mudslide Slim’s is packed and the
windows at the bar’s front are fogged
over from the body heat.
The band — Meiners, rhythm gui
tarist Pat Barnard, bassist Dave Nooks
and drummer Brendan Murphy—are
on the stage and waiting. They look
over at W illis, who stands by the stage,
head down and eyes closed.
When Willis does climb up to the
stage, the crowd goes wild. Raised
beer glasses and shouts of “Wesley!”
fill the air.
Willis steps up to the microphone
and extends his arm, looking out at the
notebook clutched in his hand.
“We drove eight hours to get here
today,” he says to the crowd. “We
drove 480 miles to get to Lincoln,
Nebraska. Did we drive too far?”
The crowd replies with an enthusi
astic “no!”
Willis, still selling his act to those
who have already bought, continues
with a prologue to the show for almost
10 minutes, telling the crowd just how
hard the Wesley Willis Fiasco will
rock and just how good the people of
Lincoln will have it.
The prologue soon ends, though,
and Willis announces the first song,
“I’m Doing It Well On This Side of the
Rea.”
The music starts.
Willis stands almost motionless,
reading the lyrics from his notebook,
as the rest of the band jumps and mugs
to the audience with a wide variety of
tried-and-true rock god poses.
Their sound is like that of a preei-,
sion speed metal band, with splashes
of reggae, funk and straightforward
rock ‘n’ roll thrown in for good mea
sure.
Halfway through the set, Willis has
made it toa more spiritual song, “Jesus
Is the Answer,” and the crowd’s en
ergy has almost reached its breaking
point.
The tension soon breaks with a fu
rious burst as the mosh pit is revived in
Lincoln with a vengeance. The few
crowd members who participate flail
in front of the stage and bounce off the
rest of the crowd.
One of them is boosted up to a
support beam that crosses above the
stage’s front, about 12 feet above the
floor. He clutches the beam and swings
from it, much to the band’s delight.
Another fan scales a side wall and
positions himself on top of the same
beam. He shuffles to the middle of it
and looks down on the crowd.
The band and the crowd look up at
him in anticipation. All except for
Willis, who continues his vocal duties
without interruption.
When the fan finally does fall into
the crowd, the band rejoices and the
fans who weren’t below his falling
body applaud and shout their approval.
Then, after one solid hour of rock
‘n’ roll bliss, the show ends as it started,
with Willis talking to the crowd, this
time from the floor.
He offers his thanks and asks the
crowd for verification of his earlier
promises of satisfaction. The crowd
responds positively, surrounding
Willis with the same awestruck look as
the handful of fans in Alphagraphics
had earlier in the evening.
Some fans file out of the club, oth
ers stay inside to hear Willis’ final
words of the evening. He is asking for
a place to stay overnight, thanking the
fans repeatedly and tellingofhisplans
to go home to Chicago the next day.
“Rock ‘n’roll will never die!” Willis
shouts. “You cannot kill it!”
And as long as there are people like
Wesley Willis around, those words
should ring true for a long time to
come.
— Music Reviewsj
*:•*•*& A»x« &>? ^ofetw-ix mCcii>tc pSr.tvte
beautiful girls
Various Artists
“Beautiful Girls”
Elektra
Grade: B
Under the guidance of Afghan
Whigs frontman Greg Dulli, it’s
hard to imagine how a soundtrack
album could go wrong. And the
soundtrack for “Beautiful Girls” is
no exception.
Dulli has a masterful ear for the
soulful sounds of the past, as evi
denced by his band’s selection of
cover tunes (which has ranged from
A1 Green’s “Beware” to TLC’s
“Creep”), and he puts that ear to use
in his role as co-executive producer
on this album.
The majority of the songs here,
as the film’s title might indicate, are
homages to either a particular
woman or women in general.
The highlights include the Af
ghan Whigs’ covers of the Barry
White classic “Can’t Get Enough
of Your Love Babe” and the Harold
Melvin and the Blue Notes tune
“Be For Real,” Chris Issak’s take
on “Graduation Day” and the sur
prisingly good effort from Ween on
“I’ll Miss You.”
But no soundtrack — as of late ~
— would be complete without a
few choice cuts from “back in the
day,” and this soundtrack is no ex
ception.
Neil Diamond’s “Sweet
Caroline” is probably the strongest
among these. The Diamonds cut,
“The Stroll,” is an old favorite but
seems blatantly out of place here.
The only truly lacking tracks are
the title cut by Pete Drogc and the
Sinners and Roland Gift’s turn at
“That’s How Strong My Love Is,”
which pales in comparison to Otis
Redding’s version.
Overall, this is a fine album that
holds its own in a saturated movie
soundtrack market. One could say
that it is suitable, and some might
say that it is superb. But, actually,
it’s just beautiful.
— Jeff Randall
2137 Cornhusker
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