Gary Wilson emerged from New York's DIY movement with 1977's proto-New Wave masterpiece You Think You Really Know Me, an extraordinary record which has been known to suck unprepared new listeners in like a drug and never let go. Shortly after its limited release its creator simply vanished.
In the 25-year wake before he was found again, Gary's small-town opus had spread by word-of-mouth and indie radio to inspire a whole new generation of musicians and producers with his bizarre songs and personal musical vision. His cult following includes Beck, who shouts him out in "Where It's At (Two Turntables And A Microphone)", The Roots, Questlove, Simpsons creator Matt Goening, and of course, Stones Throws Peanut Butter Wolf.
The re-release You Think You Really Know Me in 2002 won him accolades in The New York Times and culminated in sold-out shows in New York and Los Angeles. Gary Wilson has continued making music in the years following his "disappearance." His music continues to chronicle his obsessions and angst that his followers would expect from him. His songs have been compared to everything from Prince to Talking Heads bursting with electro-funk, synth rock, lounge, soul, and avant-garde jazz.
"Combining elements of pop, proto new wave, jazz, avant-garde composition and electronic music, Gary Wilson delivers sincere lyrics, alternately sweet and angst ridden, about the women in his life and his fantasies..." - NY Times
"Gary Wilson - eccentric or just ahead of his time?" - N.Y. Post
"And thus we witness a man in his 50s exorcising demons and fantasies three decades old, surrounded by mannequins and hot, pillow-fighting brunettes on hand to beat his head with handfuls of flour." - Dazed & Confused (UK)
"Hipster enthusiasms for lounge music and outsider art converged with the 2002 re-release of Gary Wilson's cracked, 1977 cult oddity, You Think You Really Know Me..." - TV Guide
"But the heart of Wilson's music is his obsessive girl-centric lyrics." - sfweekly.com
" ... successfully jumped between new wave synth spasms, soundtrack jazz and skronk, James Brown pep, noise collage, pre-Prince strut, and the Jonathan Richman School of Painfully Geeky Lyricism ..." - Pitchfork
"...smooth-yet-quirky ditties with vague tinges of Steely Dan jazziness and a hefty dose of obsessive-compulsive emotional damage ..." - The Village Voice
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