Wire From the Bunker: The Great Wesley Stace

Friends, it wasn’t always like this and it sure was better back then.  There wasn’t a robot to tell you what to listen to.  And you couldn’t just steal anything you wanted.  Well, maybe that second thing isn’t so bad.  For you anyway!

You usually learned about a new artist or record by reading about them (or possibly by listening to the radio, tho that was pretty much crap by the 90s, if not the 80s).  And so it was that sometime in 1990, I read a review of the debut album of an artist named John Wesley Harding in, if I recall correctly, Musician magazine.  The review was ecstatic, compared JWH to EC – you my several readers will recall that I was and remain an absolute Costello nut – and said that the record, Here Comes the Groom, featured Bruce and Pete Thomas of the Attractions in the supporting band.  They had me at Bruce and Pete.

I made my way to a brick and mortar – yes, a physical space in the world – and picked up a copy of Groom.  I was not let down.  I am prone to exaggeration, I admit, but not only did Wes live up the EC comparison, his debut was easily the best album I’d hear that year and turned out to be one of the best debuts since Peter Case’s first one,  Aztec Camera’s High Land Hard Rain and, possibly, even since My Aim Is True itself.  Trainspotters:  I am aware that Groom was not technically JWH’s debut.  

I was, at the time, just beginning to write songs and Wes helped me to see that I had a VERY long way to go.  He could write a brilliant pop song (Cathy’s New Clown, for instance), a soulful ballad (Save a Little Room For Me) and rocker alike (The Devil in Me; Bastard Son).  But what really knocked me out were the folk songs – Wes is a dyed-in-the wool folkie among, as we shall see, many other things.  There was a cool duet with my main man and folk stalwart, Peter Case, called Things Snowball but the one that really alerted me to the fact that Wes was a major dude was The Red Rose and Briar, a song that somehow sounds completely ancient yet completely modern.  It remains my favorite song of his.

I first caught up with Wes in person a couple of years later when I was living in Texas and saw him at a club called Deep Elum in Dallas – yes, in the same area that the song refers to – where he was supporting his second album, The Name Above the Title, which only lagged slightly behind the debut.  I believe Wes had a band with him called the Good Liars and they were:  good, that is.  I’ve seen Wes with a band a few times over the years and he’s a most capable band leader.  But, really, I enjoy him most as a solo performer.  Wes has old school folk chops and the sort of charisma that makes additional musicians unnecessary.  Plus, his songs consistently stand-up to that unadorned presentation.  I saw Wes at the late lamented folk club called the Tin Angel, down on 2^nd Street, on many occasions over the years.  He killed it every time.

Wes and the Boss

I owe so much of my so-called music career to Mike “Slo-Mo” Brenner but one of the best things about joining forces with him was that I never really had to pay my dues here in Philly.  After scuffling around the Austin music scene with zero success, I found myself on the Tin Angel stage with Slo-Mo in 1995 – other than a couple of informal coffee house gigs, this was literally our first real John Train gig – opening for none other than John Wesley Harding.  It meant a lot to me.  (Full disclosure, Mike’s manager at the time, Larry Goldfarb, was the booking agent at the Tin Angel.  That’s how it works, son.)

But get this:  in 2005, Wes switched gears and released, under his real name Wesley Stace (JWH was a stage name of sorts), a highly successful and regarded novel called Misfortune.  He followed it with another three titles that were also well received.  More than a few popular musicians have tried their hands at writing fiction but no one has done it at Wes’ level.  Not even close.  It probably doesn’t hurt that he has degree in English Literature from Cambridge University!

Sometime shortly before COVID, I saw Wes do a show at the wonderful Rosenbach Library in Philly – I would later take his class on Tristram (not sic) Shandy over there – where he read from one of his novels and then sang a song that was in some way connected to it.  I sat there thinking: there’s literally no one else around who could do this.  The word “polymath” gets thrown around a bit too much – usually describing someone who does multiple things but without reference to how well they do them.  Folks, Wes is a true polymath.

I am delighted to announce that Wes will join Joey Sweeney and me at our next Folk City on Wednesday, September 24^th at 48 Record Bar on 48 S. 2^nd Street in Old City.  Wes is a big time vinyl collector and, as guest selector, he is sure to present a program you will not want to miss.  

In the meantime, here’s a five spot from Mister Stace aka John Wesley Harding for your listening pleasure.

Here Comes the Groom:  Title song and first track from Wes’ debut US release.  Here he is – I’m guessing around 1990 or so – performing it solo.  Not many could put a song across solo back then and that’s still the case.  Performers think they can but they can’t.  That’s why I’ve had a five piece band behind me for 30 years!  Fave line in a song full of them:  “God made me do it and so that’s what I did.”  Think about it.

Wreck on the Highway:  The Boss has endorsed many along the way.  The good, the bad, and the, uh, Gaslight Anthem.  But Wes may be the only one he ever invited to actually open a show for him.  Says something.  In this clip, Bruce joins Wes on stage at LA’s vaunted folk club, McCabe’s, for a beautiful rendition of “Wreck on the Highway,” the final track of the River.  It did happen one night.

1985 (Live Aid Song):  Have any of you seen that Live Aid doc on Home Box?  I know those folks had good intentions but the whole affair leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I mean, how could they possibly think this was an appropriate line for Feed the World:  “Well tonite thank God it’s them instead of you.”  What. The. Fuck?  The only explanation I can think of:  mounds of coke.  Anyway, I always loved Wes’ take on Live Aid.  It’s a good example of his biting sense of humor.  Fave line:  So what if there weren’t any blacks involved // there was Everything But the Girl.  Dag!

Monkey and his Cat:  I choose this one because, well, Deni Bonet!  But I also wanted to represent something from mid-period Wes.  Plus, I dig animal songs.  The titular ones are enough but Wes throws in a flea for good measure.  

Where the Bands Are:  And now we arrive at Wes’ Late Style, as it were.  Yes, another shift, here to an album that is completely piano-based and really involves a different harmonic vocabulary than Wes’ previous work.  I love that he continues to try new things.  There’s only one thing cooler than Wes’ suit in this video and Patrick Berkery’s drum sound … wait for it … the song itself!

Wes, Joey, and I will see you down at 48 Record Bar, 48 S. 2^nd in Old City for an evening of folk, jazz, and whatever else comes to mind, spun on vinyl.  There’ll be a song session too.  And it’s free.  For more info:  https://www.48recordbar.com/  One night only!