Album Reviews

Gary Wilson inhabits a musical and cultural space somewhere between Donald Fagan, Son of Sam and Frank Zappa. The cult favorite is a creature of the night who obsesses about girls and his hometown of Endicott, NY just outside of Binghamton. He should live in a basement apartment if in fact he doesn’t.

Wilson was creepy enough vocalizing about these obsessions on his original late '70s LP, but today, clearly well into middle age, he’s still consumed by fantasizing and idealizing girls and other adolescent pastimes. 

Gary Wilson inhabits a musical and cultural space somewhere between Donald Fagan, Son of Sam and Frank Zappa. The cult favorite is a creature of the night who obsesses about girls and his hometown of Endicott, NY just outside of Binghamton. He should live in a basement apartment if in fact he doesn’t.

Wilson was creepy enough vocalizing about these obsessions on his original late '70s LP, but today, clearly well into middle age, he’s still consumed by fantasizing and idealizing girls and other adolescent pastimes. 

That he remains stuck in this teen world makes him that much creepier and his cheesily self-produced and performed jazzy songs even more worthy of your attention.

In one rambling tune Wilson confides proudly that he’s got a secret girl friend, or rather that “Gary has a secret girl” since Gary refers to Gary in the third person.

The oddly celebratory “In the Night” celebrates his “...feeling right in the night” and comforted by the “darkness” (he pronounces "dockness"). Using what sounds like a cheap old Casio synthesizer, he produces  “bass” that sounds like an unformed blob and a drum kit that’s laughably primitive.

But pay attention to what he’s coaxed from a meager musical palette and he’ll quickly earn your respect—especially when a few of these '70s-sounding basement tapes are  followed by  short, tantalizing, musically sophisticated, well-recorded  jazz interludes that let you know Wilson is in on the joke.

"Gary Wilson" the performer and recording artist is a character invented by Gary Wilson the performance artist who carefully calculates every note and gesture you hear.

The windshield wiper rhythmed “Swinging With Karen Tonight” ups the creep factor but it’s mild compared to the talking about himself in the third person obsessive/compulsive inner dialogue of “Secret Girl” (“I’ve got a secret girl friend…Gary’s got a secret girl”).

That tune’s sure to creep you out and make you want to take a shower (“In all these years I’ve never felt so lonely in bed”). In fact the whole short, fewer than forty-minute disc will leave you feeling in need of a quick rinse.

“Please Don’t Break My Heart Today,” with its Steely Dan-on –the-cheap melodic and rhythmic construct and its lyrical preoccupation with way too many girls for a normal fifty something to know on a first name basis, epitomizes the Gary Wilson esthetic.

Like any good car wreck, you won’t avert your ears first drive by and you’ll probably find yourself doing a U-turn and going around again after the initial pass by. I played this icky record repeatedly for the first few days, absorbing and marveling at the essence of Wilson’s creepiness expressed by his seemingly primitive (but in reality anything but) musical personna.

Electric Endicott will grow on you…like a fungus. Highly recommended for those who have gotten this far and remain intrigued. Be sure to check out the coverage of older Wilson releases and read the coverage of Wilson by Bob Reina and the exclusive interview conducted by Frank Doris at the time of the release of  Wilson's previous album.  See the "Archived Features" column on the home page.

A strange, cult detour in our quest for musical excellence, but one worth taking. Just ask Karen, Mary, Linda and the others...