Rock Over London, Rock On Wesley Willis

Five years ago today, Wesley Willis died. Hopefully we won’t be the only music site to note the occasion and pay our respect, but I imagine elsewhere he will be recognized as some sort of schizophrenic-savant musical genius.

We prefer to remember Wesley Willis as one of the most passionate and dedicated music fans ever to walk the earth. It’s that rare class of devotion, and not his mad skillz with Technics sample melodies, that make him one of our heroes here at Antiquiet.

He seemed to love music unconditionally. I never heard of him saying anything negative about any song or artist. Either he was blessed with an ability to find something to appreciate in anything, or he just kept his mouth shut when he didn’t have something nice to say.

Or maybe he was just incapable of finding any fault with that which he loved so dearly; music was his reason to live, and the only thing that kept the demons from giving him a warhellride.

Wesley’s story is easily Googled these days, and there’s a great documentary available on DVD starring Wesley and Steve Albini. So in efficient remembrance today, I just want to acknowledge who Wesley Willis was to me, and share a couple clips.

The first time I saw Wesley or heard his music, it was on the Howard Stern Show in 1996. At first, I presumed him to be nothing more than the newest member of the Wack Pack- just another retard off the street dropping hilarious one-liners ranging from insane (“Suck a male camel’s smelly dick with Heinz tomato ketchup!”) to simply hilarious (“Take your ass to the barbershop… Tell the barber that you’re sick of looking like an asshole!”).

He played two of his songs- nearly identical, both written on the spot. He started with one dedicated to Howard, that (as far as I can remember) consisted of Wesley howling “Howard Stern” over and over. For the other, I’m pretty sure the entirety of the lyrics was “Ba Ba Booey.” The formula for both was the same as that of previously recorded songs (some sampled on the show) such as Dave Grohl, KRS-One, and Alanis Morrissette.

But as the Stern interview progressed, and as I got to know more about Wesley, he started to inspire me and earn my respect. He wasn’t simply a fucked up busker, exploiting himself as a means to get by or get drunk. There were “demons” in his head that would manipulate him towards destructive rampages- hellrides (or more severe warhellrides), as he called them. The only thing that kept them at bay was the “harmony joy music.”

He represented for me one of the more extreme cases of music saving a soul; bringing happiness to someone that wouldn’t have a chance without it. Rock N’ Roll was his religion, and he existed to play it, and to connect with others who loved it as much as he did. His defining physical characteristics were his 300+ pounds of mass, his nappy hair, and a dark callus on his forehead. This callus was from years of greeting people by headbutting them, usually twice. He’d say, “say rock!” You’d comply, and bump heads with Wesley. Then he’d say “say roll!” You’d say ‘roll’ and Wesley would bump your head again. When greeting someone new, he’d repeat this process for as long the greeted could withstand.

I found this video of him playing for a few kids at the University of Virginia in September of 2000. He’s doing The Beatles’ Hey Jude, despite not knowing any lyrics besides “Hey Jude.” Three seconds in, I laugh at the silliness and hilarious inaccuracy. Eighteen seconds in, he goes into the chorus, and everyone starts singing along. I’m touched. I count exactly eight kids in the audience, but every single one of them is fully engaged. Genius? You’d have to have your head pretty far up your hipster ass to call him that with a straight face. But the fucker certainly had heart.

Here’s a short documentary that came with an enhanced CD version of one of his albums, with an introduction by Punk icon Jello Biafra (who released Wesley’s music under his Alternative Tentacles label). It includes a classic scene in which Wesley walks into the corporate offices of Taco John’s announcing that he’s a rock star writing a song about the fast food franchise. The camera catches his lyric sheet, displaying the lyrics to Suck A Doberman’s Dick.

Similar to the Dave Grohl / KRS-One / Alanis Morissette / Ba Ba Booey songs, Suck A Doberman’s Dick followed a formula repeated in tracks such as Suck A Caribou’s Ass, Suck A Pitbull’s Dick, and Suck A Polar Bear’s Dick. My personal favorite of these however, is Suck A Cheetah’s Dick:

My favorite part of the Suck A… songs is the standard closing catchphrase: Rock over London, Rock on Chicago. It’s often preceded or followed by a random marketing slogan, usually very funny out of context. For example, Suck A Cheetah’s Dick adds Polariod: See what develops.

So anyway, here’s to Wesley. We unfortunately have more bad things to say about certain bands than he ever did, but we’d like to think he’s with us in spirit when we’re getting behind the music we love. He continues to inspire, and he is missed.