About Me
Thursday, June 03, 2004 Copyright © Las Vegas MercuryBluesology: Basic instinct Lipz Wilson and Bluesology keep blues simple, soulfulBy Newt Briggs"No, no," Lipz Wilson says. "I'm the lead singer."Then why aren't you singing?"It's a jam, man. Why I always gotta be the center of attention?"It's a lazy Sunday evening at Moose's Beach House, and Wilson is explaining why he's nonchalantly plunking on a poker machine while his band, Bluesology, lopes through a hard-luck rendition of Jimi Hendrix's "Red House" on stage. Wilson wears a flame-patterned shirt and hat, but if it weren't for the bandolier of harmonicas strapped to his waist, he might look like any another cat who'd come to check out the band. Then he pulls out one of his mouth harps, shuts his eyes and starts to blow--first a breeze and then a gale of nitty-gritty blues. The sound is wide and deep; it reflects the craftsman."When I close my eyes and play, I can see the melodies chasing each other around in my head," Wilson says later. "I can tell where a song is going and where the changes are going to be. If I was any good at theory, I could really write some notes."Theory, though, was never Wilson's strong suit. In the late 1960s, after returning from a 12-month tour of duty in Vietnam, he bounced around colleges in the Northeast but never quite took to the classroom environment. Instead, he found himself gravitating toward the live music clubs he'd frequented as a teenager in Baltimore."When I came up, all the bluesmen played in chicken shacks," says Wilson. "They were places that served fried chicken and had a bar with sawdust on the floor. It was like a neighborhood thing. The band that played on Friday and Saturday was the same band that you'd see playing hymns in church on Sunday."Unbeknownst to many, Wilson had been playing the harmonica since he was 4, but he struggled with stage fright and steered clear of the spotlight whenever possible. As in Vietnam (where he performed long-range reconnaissance), Wilson preferred to remain in the shadows, contributing to the collective effort without drawing a lot of attention to himself."I was so shy I used to hide behind the P.A. speakers," he says of his first forays onto the stage. "I'd hide back there, and no one would know where the harmonica was coming from." As he tells it, closing his eyes is a psychological holdover from those anxious days. "If I look at somebody, it's like I'm singing right to them, and I don't want anybody to say that I was singing at their girlfriend."Wilson pleads modesty, but he has a showman's sparkle. Someone complains that it's cold inside the bar, and he rattles off a few bars of "Jingle Bells." Later, he spontaneously breaks into the chorus of David Bowie's "Space Oddity" ("This is ground control to Major Tom..."). Even when he isn't clowning, he commands people's attention."People forget that the blues is all about the basics," he says. "In fact, the blues is so basic that it's usually accomplished musicians who muck it up the worst. They think they need to get all complicated, but that makes them strain and overplay."Following this musical framework, Bluesology keeps its sound as simple and sturdy as a minor pentatonic scale. Drummer Phil Desautel Jr. calls the band (guitarist Johnny Muniz and bassist Jay Quigley) a group of "pocket players," who wrap soulful bursts of electric blues around a tight rhythmic core. The style has earned Bluesology a regular gig on Sunday night at Moose's and another on Tuesday nights at Dino's. They're also frequent guests at the Double Down Saloon. And Wilson, the Vietnam veteran and reluctant star, speaks occasionally of one day seeing his name on the marquee outside Lincoln Center."My dream is to one day play with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra," he says. "I would die for that."------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------
