What’s that on your head? “A wig!” I said, what’s that on your head? “A WIG!”
Few bands have successfully reached the pinnacle of kitsch in the manner that the B-52s (named after the signature bouffant hairdos that Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson sported) pulled off in the early ‘80s. The band was also one of the initial LGBTQ influences to populate the charts from 1977 on, churning out classics like “Rock Lobster,” “The Girl from Ipanema Goes to Greenland,” and, of course, “Love Shack” and “Roam,” which you will hear at any and every public event that requires dancing. The history of the B-52s is the stuff of legend. In 1976, Wilson – along with her brother Ricky – joined in a sacred contract with Fred Schneider, Keith Strickland and Kate Pierson to make the band a band. And they did it at a Chinese restaurant, as you do. They ended up in that clunky mix of people who played Max’s in Kansas City and CBGB in New York while pulling hair nationwide. Was it new wave, or was it punk? It was both.
Just as they seemed to be peaking, Ricky Wilson died of AIDS in 1985, throwing the band for a loop around the promotion their hit album Bouncing off the Satellites, and into a radical rethink about what the trajectory would be from there on out.
But it wasn’t over, not in the least. The band launched its biggest hit album Cosmic Thing after some downtime, and now we all live in a “Love Shack” while we “Roam” with the “Deadbeat Club.” This particular writer was once handed a drumstick from a packed Miami Arena by one Fred Schneider and it remains one of his favorite things.
“You must have been extra special; really getting down!” Wilson says with all the Athens, Ga., drawl you can conjure.
Wilson, who stepped aside from the Good Stuff album that followed Cosmic Thing, is still pressing out music, however. She did return for Funplex with the band in 2008; she screamed about malls, as you do.
Over the past year, however, Wilson has stepped aside to make her own mark on the music scene, mostly with breathy vocals built atop psychedelia and fruit punch. Her two EPs – Supernatural and Sunrise – are available on bandcamp.com, and she’s wasting no time in touring the nation to let the new Cindy Wilson take to the front of the stage. Watermark caught up with the starry-eyed diva for a quick chat before her shows on July 27 at Will’s Pub in Orlando and July 28 at Crowbar in Tampa. And, to be fair, we could hardly understand a word that came out of her Southern mouth.
Watermark: I’ve been really impressed with these two EPs that you have right now. It’s like a new dream pop.
Cindy Wilson: It’s a little bit psychedelic, but I think dreaminess is great. I’m working with a friend of mine. We’ve been working together for about two years now. He’s like the best musician to sit with. He wrote two blocks of songs to the whole thing. I think the words “Sergeant Pepper” when I hear it; it just glows. I’m just glowing. We’re starting to get interest from a label. It should be out in September.
What is it like starting from scratch in this situation for you? I mean, coming in from Bandcamp and going through this process and booking these small gigs after being an international star of stage and weddings and Bar Mitzfahs?
Music has changed a lot. You’ve got to have fun. I’ve watched people at shows losing their minds. Living up to it is about having a balance, but I’m having a blast. It’s edgy, maybe raw. I’m having a blast.
Are you able to revisit the past in any of your shows? Do you do any of the B-52s chestnuts, or are you strictly minding the current?
This is all original songs, and the show profiles what the record is doing. It’s almost like an art show.
The music reminds me of early Debbie Harry, in a sense. That whole “I’m not no limburger” brashness has given way to a far more wispy approach.
I was screaming. This project is a much more different approach. I loved it, honestly.
There a couple of touchy questions I want to ask. Why did you go away during the Good Stuff album?
We had just come off the Cosmic Thing tours straight, and we’re talking old-fashioned touring. I got kind of burned out. I thought, “Ricky died and we have this new project that topped anybody’s expectations.” I just felt like this is where I get out. It kind of stirred up my own individual groove.
This decision to make these records and go out on tour and present them, how does that feel? Do you still consider yourself a B-52 or no? You’ve left quite a legacy.
It’s a process. There are not any problems. That’s some really prized and wonderful magic. I also love those songs. We’re in the process of just getting up there and seeing what’s wrong with it.
Do you feel that the LGBT community has been important to your career? I’m queer and you’ve been important to me.
That’s sweet. Knowing Ricky’s past, and at the time you didn’t talk about what was going on, and [President Ronald] Reagan was horrible on AIDS rights and all of that. It’s just a clusterfuck. Also, being on the outside of normal space, the B-52s were always different. We spoke of marriage equality, because we thought it was important. Just being with the community – and it’s a very important community that is very important, and it’s ongoing.
Well, I think that all of your albums describe what life really is. It is a strange life, and, basically, all lives are strange. I think that what you’re doing is brilliant.
I’m glad you like them. That means a lot to me.
I’m just sorry you had to live through something so terrible in public with the death of your brother.
It was a tough time for me. It was terrible. I just remember I was watching television with my brother. I was 28 when he died and he was 36. And that’s so young!
He was one of the first to live it out loud, which is admirable.
Even my kids know his story, even though they never got to meet him.
