3-12 @ Old Miami with: Beggars
Passalacqua, Noman, & Pat Jordache
PARTY ON FUCKERS!
Somehow you are using your blue jeans as a pillow; no wonder your butt is cold. Before you have time to wonder where you are or how you got there, you realize you must drink water. A lot of water. A choir of angels fall in clear cold streams into an oversized BD’s Mongolian Barbecue glass mug. Even in the distorted reflection of the chrome covered faucet, you can see the imprint of the carpet on your cheek. And then you remember...
WILSON. Wilson did this to me. You’re in some dude’s house in Lansing and you don’t go to college there or anywhere. The party summoned you. From Pitchfork blind cities, over-prescribed suburbs, truant universities, and buck mad meth-mouthed country roads come a strange mix of people that in normal circumstances wouldn’t be partying together. But here they are. Mac’s Bar is an olfactory patchwork. Cold and cigarette smoke clinging to Carhart jackets. The malty enticement of spilt PBR. Sweat with nuances of coffee and chinese food. Euphoria by Calvin Klein. Some girl disappears into a mass of sorority girls and bearded men, leaving the delicate Euphoria to blossom around you, once you can no longer see her.
There are a lot of dudes with gauged ears, and a dark eyed blonde wearing a glittering, jeweled top that wraps every photon of the cheesy LED lights into a cocoon, only to release them a thousand twinkling butterflies. In front of the stage is a lump of humanity too tangled and sweaty to stereotype at all.
There’s no doubt that Wilson’s music is aggressive. But take a moment to question where that aggression is being channeled. The crowd is energized but not hostile, animated but not violent. It’s as if lead singer, Chad Nicefield, has reached into your chest, pulled out your still beating filthy black heart Temple-of-doom-style, and held it aloft for the whole world to see. In that moment, instead of feeling ashamed you look around the room and see hands in the air, all filled with beating filthy black hearts. You no longer fear the darkness inside yourself. By the time the last double bass drum throbs into dull echoes, your heart back in its chest feels cleaner than Jesus’ pubic hair.
Five incorrigibles comprise Wilson: vocalist Chad Nicefield, guitarists Jason Spencer and Joel Matthews, bassist Drew Rambo, and drummer Mike McGowan. When feral co-eds treed Chad and Jason in the bathroom at Mac’s Bar, I was able to eavesdrop these words of wisdom through a glory hole in the stall wall.
How did the band form?
Jason: In 2009, after jamming on random material for a year and pursuing previous projects, I came to Mike and Drew with a newer style of rock n’ roll that I envisioned would be a great fit for partying and having a good ol’ time. We jammed to the tracks and decided that this was an awesome representation of what our lives had become...one big party.
Joel came on board as our second guitarist later in the year. We had known Joel from previous bands in the past and figured he would be a good fit for us freaks. Soon after, the biggest freak of them all…Chad, joined forces to create what we call the Wilson party machine. Chad is a crazy dude. He has brought an aura of energy to Wilson that can’t be described in words. Between his facial expressions, stage presence and dirty voice, the band has really taken a huge step into a world of possibility on and off the stage. Our energy as a band increased, and so did the live shows, including crowd participation.
What are your musical influences?
Jason: Any music with energy influences me to write, but I must say that loud, loud rock n’ roll tickles my sack! I love the feeling of intensity and having a good time. When I see a kid having a good fucking time, I just want to make that kid have a GREAT fucking time.
Chad: We are influenced everyday...Every sound we hear, in every moment of our lives creates a bubble of creativity that we like to burst in our music. Sure, certain bands and tones has influenced us as players, but as a band as a whole...I'd say the life of the party is our biggest influence. And I don't mean an actual "party" party, but LIFE'S party. We are all here to have a good time, Right? Right?
It’s hard to categorize your music. What’s Wilson’s “scene”?
Jason: I don’t think there is a specific scene for us right now. Wilson has dipped its tip into several scenes, but has yet to find the right fit…which I enjoy. I guess you could consider us the random dudes that show up to a party, but get along with everyone in the end!
Chad: We like to call ourselves "Gnarly, Northern, Keg-Party, Rock and Roll". What that means to us is something of a play on words. At its heart, Wilson is a Rock and Roll giant burrowing through the Michigan dirt of our states great landscapes. We tend to get compared to Southern Metal bands...however it is something completely different for us. We take pride in where we are from and want people to know that. And there are plenty of influences in Michigan to write riff heavy tunes to.
We are not a "Metal" band. Sure we are definitely heavier than your typical Rock & Roll act...but we focus a lot on melody and pitch. The vocals are not screaming at you, they are yelling at you..controlling the conversation. There is still melody in the delivery.
And on top of everything, Wilson is a band that was created to give you a sound track to your life's most intense party. We create this music to give the listener something to release themselves to.
Think of that college, basement keg-party that you lost your virginity at, or that high school bonfire you chugged your first bottle of whiskey at, then blew chunks all over your girlfriend, as she gave you a lil’ tugger! THAT’S A FUCKING PARTY!
What’s the best way to really enjoy a concert?
Jason: I think the best thing any person can do is just have a good time with an open mind. That sounds cliché as hell, but seriously, some shows have become so dry, you know? You got people with straight faces, standing up like pillars and girls putting on a model show...this is a concert – move around, scream, pick up chicks, pick up boys, do your thing!