Jonathan Wilson

Jonathan Wilson arrives in Milan for the first time with an acoustic showcase in the extremely intimate setting of Santeria, caught on a day off from the tour that's taking him around Europe opening for Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. Flared jeans, a rainbow tie-dye t-shirt and long hair tied back, the North Carolina songwriter perfectly embodies the imagery that lives in his music, poised between early-Seventies nostalgia and a deep rootedness in the present.

With him tonight are just Omar Velasco's twelve-string and Jason Borger's Mellotron. The room is small and intimate, the walls host an exhibition of illustrations, and the green LEDs lighting up the back wall only heighten the sense of being at a gathering in late-Sixties San Francisco — a feeling that will keep growing as the evening goes on.

The notes of "Can We Really Party Today?" kick off the set's steadily ascending climax. A safe choice, but no less effective for it, to continue the first part of the showcase within the comfort zone of "Gentle Spirit", the outpost of "Desert Raven" followed swiftly by the title track. But it takes only as long as needed to settle into the room, to find the right dimension, those right vibrations that turn music into a mental experience, before "Moses' Pain" arrives, a preview from the album due out next spring — just close your eyes for a moment and you're back on the banks of the Mississippi.

Close your eyes and don't open them again. Let the notes of "Magic Everywhere" and "Valley Of The Silver Moon" wash over you, the psychedelia of the guitars that Wilson himself decides to unplug from the amps so every nuance can be heard, the imaginative scenery of nature, the power of the human mind. It's time for the last song, and the choice is a cover, "Just For Love" by Quicksilver Messenger Service. Not even the audience, gradually leaving the room as kick-off for Italy-Germany approaches, helps remind us that no, it's not 1970, it's 2012.

It's right after this hour-long showcase that I meet Jonathan Wilson for a chat:

So, how's the tour going?

Good! Yeah, good, it's been really great, every show has truly been a great show.

You supported Wilco last winter, and now you're on the road with Tom Petty — although after the Royal Albert Hall dates it seems the support tour has turned into a double headline...

Oh, wow! That's a great thing. But they're the best, for us being on tour with them is truly an honor. When you're sixty years old and you're still playing like that, you know that what you're doing is the right thing.

Do you feel the difference between one of your own shows and a support slot?

Yes, there's a huge difference between the two audiences. On support tours people are most likely not there to see you; in this case they're there for Tom, but so far the audience has responded really well. Being the support act is hard, but it's something you need to do, and with Tom, it's probably the best situation there could be for me in the world. I can't think of anything better.

On this tour you've played in some very big places, with really huge crowds, but tonight we heard you play in a really intimate, close-knit setting. Which of these situations suits you best?

I think for me it's something in between... you know, we were just in Paris, where we played in a beautiful theatre [the Grand Rex, ed.], with a balcony and a second balcony. Venues like that are the ideal ones for my band – they usually hold a few thousand people, it's the perfect size. Playing in these huge places is hard for us, they're so big, sound bounces everywhere, that's how you experience the show, the sound, the guitars get lost.

And what about the atmosphere?

Yes, the feeling is better too.

Honestly, I can't picture "Gentle Spirit" being played in a stadium or a big arena.

But you know, that's fun too, the songs work really well outdoors, it's a nice environment. It's fun to play with those walls of amplifiers sometimes.

I'd like to go back in time a bit, to the beginning of your career. You were born and started out in North Carolina, also the home state of musicians like Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane. Did that in some way influence your musical education and your songwriting?

Absolutely. There's a kind of pride people have towards these artists, it's something people often boast about, and ultimately it means that's a special place. And it really is, in terms of the musicians it has produced – it's really strange that there have been so many of them; that's not the case, say, for South Carolina, while it is for Texas... it just happens.

As for me, I listen to a lot of jazz, I'm a huge fan; the beginning of "Gentle Spirit" has this McCoy Tyner kind of vibe, with the piano.

That intro really struck me: "Gentle Spirit" is basically a guitar record, but it opens with this grand piano you don't expect, it throws you off, but in a good way, it's incredible.

Thank you, that's a very good thing.

The album came out four years after your previous release, "Frankie Ray". What happened in the meantime?

Honestly, it took me a long time to find the right team. I turned down deals, I even turned down five much bigger offers, because I knew it was the right thing to do. It took a long time to find Simon [Raymonde], who runs Bella [Union] – he's the best of them all, one of a kind; you know, sometimes it takes a lifetime to find a soulmate, and I refused to put my music out with bad vibes and the wrong energy, it wouldn't have worked, it would have sunk and I would have gone crazy and fallen into depression.

So, that's basically the story. When it came out I didn't know what to expect, and instead the response was fantastic.

In the early 2000s you moved to Los Angeles, to Laurel Canyon. What drew you there?

I'd already lived there before, but then I moved back to the East Coast. In 2005, though, I decided to return to California, to Laurel Canyon. I think it was mostly the sun and the atmosphere, which are so good, that convinced me to go back; then, once I was there, things exploded, with my studio and everything else — yes, that's mostly what I was dealing with in those years.

I know your studio is the only one currently in existence that's entirely analog. Why did you make that choice?

Yes, that's true. Basically it's about the sound, it's like seeing the beauty of an old film compared to certain HD images, like those new TV shows such as "90210" which are really ugly; but if you watch a gorgeous film shot on film, everything is so balanced, the colors so beautiful. It's exactly the same thing: tape does the same with sound, it evens everything out. With digital you have to fight every time, there are always a million things to fiddle with to make it work; with tape, you just hit play and the sound is right there.

Is that the studio that appears in the video for "Canyon In The Rain"?

Yes, exactly.

You're generally credited with having brought back the atmosphere of Laurel Canyon in the '60s and '70s — I've read that your studio often hosts long jam sessions. Was that really the case?

Yes, the atmosphere was exactly that. Lots of parties and improvising; when musicians were in town, maybe during a tour, they'd stop by my place, for some really great jams.

Your lyrics are a mix of real life and lysergic visions. What inspires you to write them?

Definitely California. For some songs I really went to Big Sur, or into the desert, and once I got back home I'd sit down and write. It happens, because what surrounds you there is so beautiful. Then there are other things that have to do with different states of consciousness, which matter to me, like simply thinking under the influence of substances.

In your songs you often talk about life, spirit, the Universe, circles: what's your relationship with spirituality?

Very good, in the sense that I know it's there, it's solid, it's something I ultimately feel, that I always keep an eye on and try to focus on, like a relationship between me and whatever first inspires me, and which I then pass on to people. Even earlier, while I was playing, it's me and the music, we're a team, you just have to try to stay in the saddle, like a jockey.

I hear a lot of British psychedelia in your music, for instance Pink Floyd or late-period Beatles. Am I right?

Yes, absolutely!

That's an unusual thing for an American singer-songwriter, it doesn't happen that often.

Yes, and it's a good thing. Someone else the same goes for is Tom Petty — he's very passionate about British music, even if not the same things I like, but he worked with members of the Beatles, he was kind of like one of them, it's strange.

I don't really know, there aren't many bands playing what I do — it's mostly about not getting trapped inside a label, whether that's "jam band" or "singer-songwriter", but instead trying to be something different every time, and that's the most fun part.

One of your latest works as a producer was “Fear Fun” by Father John Misty. How did that collaboration come about?

Josh came into town, moved to California, packed up all his stuff and left Seattle – he had a girlfriend there, left her, got in the van and drove down to Los Angeles. We just happened to end up in the same place: I was working, and he had a show in town. That was the first time our paths crossed, but we instantly became great friends.

As soon as he walked into my studio he grabbed every contact on my iPhone, including my best friends, my girlfriend and all my exes – there was no way he wasn't going to become one of my best friends too.

Even before reading the album credits, I immediately recognized your guitar on “This Is Sally Hatchet”.

Oh, great! That's super Beatles!

Absolutely, it sounds like it was lifted straight off “Abbey Road”.

Yeah! That's just me having fun.

Ride the wave of great music

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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by OndaRock Staff, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

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