By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
October 23, 1992
He took his stage name from a Bob Dylan album almost as old as he is and nicks his album titles from Frank Capra movies. So where’s John Wesley Harding’s originality? In his music. An acerbically witty songwriter who sings folk-style rock songs, Harding is touring with a group of musicians who he refuses to Christian with a band name. Catch him and them when they perform tomorrow at the Metro.
THEY CALL ME: John Wesley Harding, the title of Dylan’s 1968 LP. His parents named him Wesley Harding Stace. His friends call him Wes. They all celebrated their 27th birthday Thursday in Madison, Wis.
HIS OPENING ACT IS: Mare Winningham. The actress who starred opposite Kurt Russell in “Amber Waves of Grain” and who lost her on-screen virginity to Rob Lowe in “St. Elmo’s Fire.” How’d she get the gig? “She’s a friend of mine,” Harding says. Tell me more. “She’s a very good folk singer,” he continues in a crisp English accent. “(Performing) with me isn’t a first for her. Mare supported the Oyster Band on its tour. I saw her supporting Marshall Crenshaw at (a San Francisco club called) Slim’s. I knew her brother slightly so we went backstage and met her, and she turned out to be a big old fan of mine.” Laughing, he adds, “So she got the tour.”
IS THERE MORE? Mare is an actress who sings. Harding is a singer who once acted. “She’s a proper actor, though,” he says. “I can’t really claim I was an actor, although I did act.”
EGGHEAD: It’s not surprising Harding has a way with words. His undergraduate degree at Cambridge University was in English literature. After a flirtation with the school’s Ph.D program, he shelved it for acting and then music.
SORRY, GIRLS, HE’S MARRIED: And guess what? His wife is not a model, actress, singer, TV spokesperson or blond. She’s tall, brunette and an American named Denise. They reside in San Francisco, where they don’t hang out with local celebs Clarence Clemmons, Chris Isaak or Huey Lewis. The few musicians he socializes with are the kind who’d elicit little more than the occasional “who?” from the general public. “I treat my whole life as free time apart from when I do stuff I have to be doing, like gigs, making albums, interviews, whatever,” he says. “I ask myself, `Would I be doing this if I were at home?’ And if the answer is no, I’ll generally walk.”
ELEPHANT BRAIN: Harding’s got a memory for names, faces and dates. He remembers the good reviews. The bad ones. The funny stories. And the bizarre characterizations. Here are some examples: “There was this one thing written about me in New Orleans that talked about this huge drug and groupie thing that (supposedly) occurred backstage,” he says, laughing. “I think because somebody came in and there was a girl on my knees – probably my wife. It was bizarre because (the story) painted me as a completely stoned monster, and I’m the last person to write that about! There was another one that annoyed me. A guy in Columbus, Ohio, made a whole article about my hair. I don’t know whether he had it in for me or if I’d been rude to him, which is not that likely, but he wrote something like: `John Wesley Harding is an important songwriter and he’ll talk to you about his songs, but just don’t ask him about his hair.’ He made this whole gag up about my hair and I just didn’t get it. My hair is not that interesting.”
I’LL KNOW I’M FAMOUS WHEN: “I’m allowed to go on after dark. I always play in the daylight.”
Guess what, Wes? You’re playing in the evening tomorrow.
