“Are there any hillbillies in Philadelphia?” Stephen Wilson, Jr. asked the sold-out crowd at The Fillmore on Wednesday night.
By the response, you’d think everyone in the venue was from coal country, only making the trek to the fringes of our state’s border and tolerating “the big city” that night to see the man perform.
“Hill-bill-adelphia…”
It was tongue-in-cheek, but to me, it highlights the musical enigma that is Stephen Wilson Jr. The truth is simply that he transcends whatever could be considered standard country-fare or neatly defined genre expectations. He’s on the country charts, he speaks with a low Southern drawl (born and raised in Southern Indiana on the Kentucky border), and he was dressed like a car mechanic stopping at the bar after a long day’s shift. But the music? Not exactly Morgan Wallen.
Citing grunge as a foundational influence on his upbringing (which should surprise no one considering his Blankets EP is covers of some of the 90s alt rock greats, among other lyrical shoutouts), Wilson Jr. and his band went as far as busting out their more uptempo cover of Nirvana’s “Something in the Way” after specifically citing both Chris Cornell and Kurt Cobain’s influence over his life.
But throughout the show, even with some of his more traditionally country-influenced songs, there was a throughline of 90s alternative rock. The man knows how to make riffs sound big and hit hard regardless of any rigid genre-based definitions. He’s a champion of the reverb and delay pedals. He and his band create an atmosphere that errs more toward Bruce Springsteen by way of Soundgarden and Mark Lanegan, with the force of an apocalyptic storm, rather than whatever you’re hearing coming out of Nashville. But it’s effortless. There is true artistry and sincerity in every note and every word sung. It’s like an artsy headbanger’s approximation of a square dance (for evidence, see: “Mighty Beast”).
And that, I think, is exactly where the magic lies. He’s got crossover appeal and, as a result, sounds fresh in a very oversaturated musical market.
I have to disclose the fact that I simply do not like “country music” as a broad general preference. I’ve heard it all: “Well, I don’t like modern country, but I like this [famous older artist]” “Country pop isn’t country, you need to hear this [artist who collaborated with rock musicians]” and every single variation of “there is good country, you just need to listen to artist X, Y, or Z.”
Believe me, I’ve tried.
I lived in Nashville for a stint and was consistently exposed to it all. But it never hit. I have no judgments about people liking it, I just never quite “got it” - and don’t ask me about the Top 40 stuff because I’m trying to stay positive here… But in that closed-off mindset towards anything that even remotely falls under the country music genre, I was late to the party with Stephen Wilson Jr., assuming it would be another case of, “I see the talent, but I don’t connect to the music.” And I have never been more pleased to be so profoundly wrong about a misplaced assumption.
I have to give a shoutout to my friend, Geoff, with whom I attended the show, for introducing me to his Blankets EP, and my other friend, Mark, for reinforcing the excellence. My immediate response upon hearing his homage to my own heroes on the EP was, “OK, this is good.” But until seeing him, I still have to offer up my apology: I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson Jr., I was not familiar with your game.
From the entrance song choice of “Pepper” by Butthole Surfers blending into opener “Mighty Beast,” to the stage design replete with an angel-winged, 10-inch black-and-white-tube-TV-headed, puffer-vest-wearing mannequin, giant-sized roses on the mic stands, papier-mâché wolf heads, and a backdrop of a digitized Our Lady of Guadalupe behind his band’s logo, the setup evoked peak 90s vibes. But once again, considering his lyrical content and clear influences, this should surprise no one. I just love it.
Another amazing feat is how, at 46 years old, Wilson Jr. effortlessly ran (sorry, sprinted) around the stage (and eventually the entire mezzanine and pit) like a demon possessed. His energy, presence, humility, and grace, all while rocking the fuck out, elevated the experience beyond mere musical excellence. He shared anecdotes, some of which have an eerily serendipitous relevance to my own life, and he expressed his genuine love for this city, having come here during his boxing days in his youth.
Oh, he was also a food scientist in a past life, branding himself a “country nerd,” assuring the crowd that they do exist. And in return, he received a custom #26 Wilson Jr. Phillies jersey from a generous fan. I’m assuming the number was for the tour year and not my all-time favorite Phillie Chase Utley, but why not both? Later, he received a woven blanket, but I couldn’t make out the design. In short, the love he expressed was reciprocated throughout the night by the packed crowd and some very thoughtful fans.
The main theme, however, as is evidenced by his debut album title, Søn of Dad, was deep admiration for the man who made him. “I am Stephen Wilson Jr., and I am my father’s son,” he said throughout the evening. As he shared between songs, he’d turned to music as a career inspired by his father’s dying wish for him to “write me a really good song.” And so he delivered, now a few dozen times over (and still counting as evidenced by new songs “Impression of a Human” and “Robots”).
He’s a man on a mission. He has lived a few lifetimes to get to where he is today, and it all shows in both his artistry and persona. Somehow both down-to-earth and larger than life, Stephen Wilson Jr. is a musical force of nature, and I’m pretty excited to see where he goes next.
Last, but certainly not least, I have to give major credit to a backing band that was absolutely legendary in their own right: Julian Dorio as a powerhouse on drums, Scotty Murray absolutely, mind-blowingly shredding on steel guitar, and Philly’s own multi-talented, multi-instrumentalist Miles Burger on bass, standup bass, and harmonica, each contributed to the epic, post-apocalypse, ultimate-battle-of-good-versus-evil, high desert plains epicness that the set evoked. If this man and his band aren’t composing the score for the upcoming TV adaptation of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series, I’ll be kind of pissed… But I digress. Everything you hear in the studio recordings of these songs is elevated and made bigger and heavier thanks to his band of brothers behind him. It’s weird to have this experience at back-to-back shows after a lifetime of it rarely being so, but his live performances of the night exceeded the quality of the studio renditions of these songs. While I’d certainly listen to an officially released live album, what the night really solidified for me was creating a genuine craving to see it all over again and as soon as humanly possible.
In short, I’m pretty sure I had a spiritual experience. I don’t know if it’s where I’m at in my life or if there was some kind of divine timing, cosmic butterfly effect, metaphysical conspiring of the universe to make it so, but witnessing this show at the moment I did hit the factory reset button on both my brain and my spirit. I left feeling elated, inspired, and hopeful. And I think that’s the best possible review I could ever give to a live performance.
I am officially a Stephen Wilson Jr. evangelist and will do my part to spread the good word far and wide.
Until next time…
Setlist:
Mighty Beast
Billy
Cuckoo
Impression of a Human
Preacher's Kid
Patches
Grief is Only Love
The Devil
Father's Søn
I'm A Song
Robots
Gary
Year to Be Young 1994
Something in the Way (Nirvana cover)
Holler From the Holler
American Gothic
Hometown
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