“I love to have fun, it keeps me out of prison.”
Wesley Willis
“Forget Springsteen. Wesley Willis is the alter ego of America.”
Jello Biafra
T’s Take: I own one Wesley Willis album. It’s one of his Greatest Hits that Alternative Tentacles put out. I have about 20,000 songs on my iPod but no matter we are as long as my wife is with me a Willis song will come on shuffle. Only when my wife is with me. I’ve tested it out with other people and by myself. What does this mean? Nothing, but that my wife is convinced I have his entire discography with me at all times and not just 50 or so songs (20 of which are about sucking various animals dicks). I don’t think I ever put him on purposely but he’s always welcome when he pops in there on his own accord. You can’t deny this man had a knack for catchy songs. Like most good commercial jingles they get stuck in your head, which is probably why he ends each one with a line from an actual commercial. Prior to watching this documentary I thought Willis was just a funny dude that liked headbutting people. Turns out there was a lot more to it than that.
“Wesley Willis’s Joy Rides” is both enthralling and at times difficult to watch. Difficult in the way that Willis’s schizophrenia and self-dubbed “hell rides” are depressing to witness even if only through the lens of a camera. Probably what makes them have such an impact on the viewer is that Willis is such a likeable character. He’s a genius of a man that rose above his circumstances and hustled his art and music 24/7 to garner a modicum of success many musicians and artists would envy. Tragically in 2003 he would die early at the age of 40. In his life Willis over came an absent father, an abusive stepfather, having his family broken up by social services, and a box cutter to the face, but sadly was no match for leukemia. His story shouldn’t be remembered for starting and ending on a down note though, because during his 40 short years Willis in many ways fought his way into becoming the embodiment of the American Dream.
What “Joy Rides” showcases best is the lives Willis’s overwhelming charisma touched. From his old professors to band mates to roommates and so forth, everyone in this documentary is overjoyed to talk about his impact on their lives (and foreheads). And I can’t help but think that anyone who watches this film will be impacted by Willis as well. Any time you want to sit there and bitch that you can’t are unable to do something think about Willis. Here’s a guy who literally came from nothing, I mean just started at the very bottom and before you know it he’s being showcased as an artist in local papers and interviewed on Mtv News. To just look at him sitting in a Kinko’s or McDonald’s you’d assume he was homeless and not all there, but in fact many times he would roll with ten to twenty thousand in cash from selling his own CDs after shows in far off places like London. Armed with a bic pen, folding chair, and art boards he would draw some of the most amazing Chicago cityscapes you’ll ever see. Armed with a notepad of lyrics and keyboard he was a self-proclaimed rock and roll god. He didn’t need much to create something larger than life.
Whether you’re a fan of Willis or have never heard of the guy I’d still highly recommend “Joy Rides”. Rock over London. Rock on Chicago. Beef. It’s what’s for dinner.
P’s Take: Awright, Wesley Willis’s music sucked, let us be clear. With the Fiasco, without, any which whatever way. Don’t even front. Yeah it is kind of funny, but briefly. To say otherwise, if you actually claim yer kicking back by yourself having some beverages maybe, and you’re putting on Wesley Willis, you’re fucking bullshitting.
Me and Uncle T sat round watching this documentary “Wesley Willis’s Joy Rides” this past Sunday. I gotta say, I was kind of hung-over and the thing just bummed me out for reasons I couldn’t quite explain to myself until it hit me later. I sat down expecting to laugh a bit at this cat’s life and the fucking movie went and humanized the man. And that took most (but not all) of the ha ha out of it. I couldn’t just be like “look at the retard, tee hee.” So, in that way, the director did his job.
So let me give you my revised impression of Wesley Willis: He was punker than you. And me too. The product of South Chicago foster care, which I can only imagine is worse than normal foster care, huge as hell and krazy with a capital KR. Wesley liked to draw, and in that he had enough talent to make up for the complete absence of it musically. But drawing wasn’t cutting it, so he decided he’d be a Rock Star. And fucking did it. Despite sucking absolute ass.
See, I think Wesley knew the effect he had on folks, and I think he knew people either listened to him out of pity or nastiness. But they paid either way. So who’s laughing? You got your drunken kicks laughing at such gems as “ I Whooped Batman’s Ass” but who was walking off with 20 grand in bills, portable cd player a-swinging bout the neck? Not you. Not me neither. Krazzy don’t necessarily mean stupid, evidently.
And I guess that is the lesson of Wesley Willis life; take what you need. So raise a glass to that ugly, bonkers, self-proclaimed Daddy Of Rock n Roll, may he rest in peace. He took a bad, bad hand and made it win on a bluff.
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