I’m fascinated by the career of lesser-known music producer Tom Wilson. One reason Wilson is so fascinating is the fact that he played a central role in the development of crucial musical movements of the 1960′s, but even today’s most informed music maniacs offer only blank stares at the mention of his name.

That’s why I was so excited when I saw this Daily Beast article which is the longest, most informative piece I’ve ever read about the man. Here’s the gist…

After tenures at United Artists and Audio Fidelity, Wilson was hired as a staff producer for Columbia in 1963.

“This guy played like the dumb guys. But then these words came out. I was flabbergasted. I said to Albert Grossman, who was in the studio, ‘If you put some background to this you might have a white Ray Charles with a message.’”
Wilson began producing Dylan, the folk sensation who’d become a mainstream star on the heels of his lauded second album The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, in 1963. Their first album together was Dylan’s first LP of all-original compositions, The Times They Are A-Changin’. Wilson became Dylan’s producer for the next three albums, helming the records that would shift Dylan’s sound and image tremendously; as the singer-songwriter evolved from folkie protest singer to abstract hipster poet rocker.

In the summer of 1965, Wilson produced Dylan’s latest creation, a sneering anthem that would become one of the ‘60s defining songs, the opus “Like a Rolling Stone.” With that single, Dylan’s transformation into bonafide rock star was complete; but it would be the last track Wilson would record with Dylan. The notoriously headstrong star became frustrated with Wilson’s hands-on approach to producing, culminating in a heated exchange in the studio over Al Kooper’s organ-playing. Wilson was replaced with Bob Johnston when recording on Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited album was resumed.

But there was much more to Tom Wilson’s legacy than Bob Dylan classics. Shortly after meeting Dylan, Wilson started session work with Simon & Garfunkel, as the duo was readying their debut album. Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M. was a commercial failure, but after the acoustic ballad “The Sound of Silence” began getting widespread airplay, Wilson remixed the folk-pop tune with rock instrumentation—in the spirit of The Byrds’ hit “Turn, Turn, Turn.” Using the backing musicians that had played on “Like a Rolling Stone” earlier in the day, Wilson added rock instrumentation to “The Sound of Silence,” and the remixed song was released as an official single. His assertiveness may have sometimes led to annoyance (as it did with Dylan), but it oftentimes paid off. Simon & Garfunkel had no idea the song had been remixed until after the single had been released, but almost a year after Wednesday Morning’s release, “The Sound of Silence” became the No. 1 song in America.

Being named the East Coast A&R Director for Verve Records in late 1965, Wilson produced tracks for the Velvet Underground on their classic debut The Velvet Underground and Nico, though his heavy-handedness again caused some concern after he remixed the group’s “Sunday Morning” without their consent. Wilson also had an eye for talent and a knack for spotting diamonds in the rough; he was instrumental in signing jazz trumpeter Hugh Masekela and Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention—a group that most labels considered too “out there” even for the psychedelic 60s.

The end of Wilson’s life is as mysterious as his career. He died at the young age of 47 and is buried in Texas, his home state. Of course that’s one of the reasons why his story is so compelling — every now and then I find another nugget that helps to piece together my understanding of the man and his work. In addition to the Daily Beast piece, I also found this 1967 interview between Wilson and Lou Reed discussing the origins of The Velvet Underground…

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I write you from a cold, rainy afternoon in Nashville. I am off to hear some classical music tonight and to drink some kind of warming liquor to help me better match moods with this sad-faced evening.

I have been remiss in my latest correspondences, which is to say – there haven’t been any. After a month of various art installation projects, author interviews, film reviews, poetry submissions and recording sessions, my schedule is collapsing into something more humane, and I’m pleased to offer up some interesting news…

*The recording project at MTSU is coming along nicely. The great JP Lilliston has added his magic strings to both “Do or Die” and “You Got Your Troubles” and -while I haven’t heard the new mix on the latter- “Do or Die” is really evolving into the rawest, rockinest song I’ve ever recorded. Quite magic alakazam considering we’re assembling it like some kind of Frankenstein monster stitched together from stolen moments and unconnected inspirations. Then again, that pretty much sums up the whole idea of beauty for me…

*I have a number of poems making the rounds and my friend Maria Browning has been especially helpful and encouraging in prompting me to get more of my verses in print. As you may know, I’ve published my poems/stories in the past in various outsider/alternative publications, but I’m beginning to believe that there is also a place for my stuff in academic literary and art journals as well. More to come…

*I’ve been asked to do a number of writing assignments recently including reviewing the 40th Anniversary edition of Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water – hence the video at the top of the post.

Here is a sample:

While some contend that Simon and Garfunkel’s 1968 release Bookends was the duo’s creative highpoint, the pair were never more popular or commercially successful than they were with the release of Bridge Over Troubled Water in 1970. Bridge held the top of the charts for ten weeks, won six Grammys including Album of the Year, had four hit singles, and has sold more than 25 million copies world-wide.

The second film on the disc is a making-of documentary that combines a lot of borrowed footage from Songs of America along with contemporary interviews with Simon, Garfunkel and Halee. The Harmony Game tells the tale of the recording of Bridge Over Troubled Water and it also serves as a tribute of sorts to Halee. “We were, in truth, a threesome,” explains Garfunkel. “And Roy Halee was the driver in many of these things.” Offering intimate, in-studio peeks into the creation of the record’s signature tunes, Harmony reveals that “Cecilia” began as a tape-loop of the duo playing rhythm patterns on their pants legs and a piano bench. It also explains that “The Only Living Boy in New York” was inspired by Garfunkel’s exodus to Mexico to appear in Mike Nichols’ big-screen adaptation of Catch-22. The “Tom” who catches a plane in the song’s first lines is a reference to Garfunkel’s stage name in the duo’s original incarnation as Tom and Jerry. The film’s centerpiece is it’s telling of the production of “The Boxer,” but, ultimately, this film and the album both circle back to the record’s title track.

Read about the writing and recording of the record’s timeless title track at the American Songwriter website.

Untils next time…

Joe Nolan <3