Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, June 15, 1990 TAG: 9006150172
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: TRACY WIMMER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
"To me, a night of music is a chance to get home through a break in the fence," Wilcox said. "I like when it's honest enough that we suddenly don't feel so far apart."
Wilcox is a rainy-day singer, an artist whose soft, often sullen baritone is backed by his own minimal acoustic guitar.
Speaking by phone from North Carolina, Wilcox's voice often trailed off into a whisper. His words were like that of a poet - filled with warm analogies and thoughtful detail. Maybe that is why Wilcox is an artist whose lyrics sometimes overshadow his playing. These lines from his song "Eye of the Hurricane" show Wilcox in full stride:
Tell the truth, explain to me, how you got this need for speed,
She laughed and said, `It might just be the next best thing to love.'
For hope is gone and she confessed, that when you lay your dream to rest
You can get what's second best, but it's hard to get enough.
"I write from what I see on the street, using common images," explained Wilcox. "I wanted to write about my fears of the power of addiction, but instead of generalities, I told the story of a friend's death on a motorcycle."
Wilcox's friend was killed in 1986, and he wrote those lyrics a little more than a year ago. But while he's enjoyed writing since his early teens, Wilcox didn't pick up an acoustic guitar until his college days. He was first inspired to do so while standing in a stairwell in Yellow Springs, Ohio.
Then a student at Antioch College, he was climbing the steps when he heard a haunting melody coming from above. Apparently a fellow student had innocently chosen the venue, thinking she was alone. She wasn't.
"I remember thinking it was beautiful - really beautiful," Wilcox said. "From then on, I wanted to learn how to play."
By going to acoustic performances and listening to acoustic LPs, Wilcox taught himself to play.
A native of suburban Cleveland, Wilcox eventually transferred from Antioch College to Warren Wilson College in Asheville, N.C., after stumbling upon the campus during a three-month biking trip. He graduated in 1985 with a humanities degree.
In 1987, Wilcox recorded "The Nightshift Watchman" on the Carolina-based label Song of the Wood Music. The album earned him many awards at national folk-music festivals. Last year, he was picked up by A&M Records' AMericana line, a new label aimed specifically at the growing folk market.
"How Did You Find Me Here," Wilcox's first AMericana release, is a spare and lovely album with fine guitar picking. It would be hard to listen it without thinking of another North Carolinian, James Taylor, who was an early inspiration to Wilcox, along with artists Joni Mitchell, Donald Fagen and Tony Rice.
Wilcox hears the Taylor comparison a lot. While he feels flattered, it is apparent he wants his own identity.
"I guess when I hear people say I remind them of James Taylor, I try to translate that into their feeling the same as when they first heard a James Taylor song," Wilcox said. "That was probably good."
The Taylor comparison is also drawn at WROV-FM which plays Wilcox's "Eye of the Hurricane" and "Rusty Old American Dream."
"A lot of people would say that Wilcox's music is not AOR [album-oriented rock] enough to be played on this station," program director Mike Bell said. "But rock is a feeling. It doesn't have to be screaming guitars. His music says something."
WROV-FM is co-sponsoring the Wilcox show Friday night with Ice Pick Productions.
Although the album was distributed nationally, "How Did You Find Me Here" has yet to make Billboard magazine's top album or singles chart. So when disc jockeys play Wilcox, they suit their own taste and format.
When Wilcox isn't touring, he spends the four days a month he's home in Asheville hiking and mountain biking. More recently, he's been combing the local library, looking for poetry to psych himself up for the writing of his next album. He refused to say which poets most inspire him. But he did divulge that his upcoming songs might offend some listeners.
He declined to explain further, adding only: "I'm writing stuff that celebrates the normal things of life - stuff not talked about in a lot of popular music."
DAVID WILCOX: 9 tonight, Iroquois Club, 324 Salem Ave. $12. Opening act: The Locomotives. 982-8979.
by CNB