Vintage Review: Webb Wilder’s Acres of Suede (1996)

Webb Wilder has been kicking around the Southeast for about a decade now, wowing a loyal audience with an inspired musical blend of roots-rock, R & B, country, and raving psychobilly. He's done the major label thing, made a couple of passes through Europe, released a handful of critically-acclaimed records while touring the states constantly and still can't get a decent shot at the “big time.” His latest effort, the wonderful Acres of Suede, may not get Wilder noticed by a fickle, trend-oriented music-buying public, but it's a damn fine record nonetheless.
 

Webb Wilder’s Acres of Suede

A stylistically diverse collection of tunes delivered with heaping portions of sincerity and passion, Acres of Suede offers a musical soundtrack provided by a loose-knit collection of talented Nashville-area musicians which includes six-string wizard George “The Tone Chaperone” Bradfute and moonlighting Los Straitjackets' drummer Les James Lester. With long-time Wilder co-conspirator R.S. Field sharing production duties and collaborating on 11 of the album's 12 songs, the table is set for a typically wonderful WW musical experience.

Acres of Suede delivers on every expectation, a dozen rollicking tunes that run the stylistic gamut. “Fall In Place” is as poetic a tale of the diminished beauty of the South as has ever been written, delivered by Wilder in a gentle baritone while accompanied by K.K. Faulkner's soft, melodic backing vocals. “Flat Out Get It” is a rockabilly-styled rave-up while “Why Do You Call?” offers a tale of unrequited love from a different perspective.  

“Scattered, Smothered and Covered” offers a tale of seduction gone awry, mostly spoken lyrics backed by a steady repetitive riff, the choruses punched up with a sort of mid-‘60s Mersey Beat sound. “Lost In the Shuffle” evokes memories of Stevie Ray, being a fine representation of Texas barroom blues. Acres of Suede closes with the psychotronic “Rocket To Nowhere,” a classic swamp-rocker filled with trembling guitars and pounding drums that propel Wilder's deep, mesmerizing vocals to new heights.    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

While not exclusively a “Southern Artist,” Wilder nonetheless brings all of the fervor of a tent revival to his albums, drawing upon the cultural depth and musical heritage of the old South in creating his trademark sound. Wilder's entire persona, the self-created and near-legendary “Last of the Full-Grown Men” is, indeed, an alter-ego unique to the South. The last of the boarding house residents, a rootless wanderer who knows every blue plate diner, greasy spoon, and thrift store in town, Wilder's character is the sort that never gets married, never has children, is always polite, and seems to travel through life on a plane apart from we mere mortals. Although every aspect of this character may not be an accurate representation of Wilder himself, with every passing season it becomes more so.

It's a powerful image, one perfectly suited to the music that Wilder performs and obviously cherishes. In the end, Wilder's biggest asset – the persona that allows him the luxury of life as a performer – may also be his greatest liability, mainstream audiences unyielding in their lack of acceptance of Wilder's charm and ability. He must either reconcile himself to eternal cult status and critical acclaim, and thus continue his considerable career on that basis, or throw in the towel altogether. For those of us who can see beyond the mask to the artist underneath, we certainly look forward to more from this underrated talent. (Watermelon Records, released 1996)

Review originally published by R Squared zine