Rave On Russel Wilson
We look into the faces of wild things to try and see ourselves. We want to know what part of us might live in there behind the eyes.
Russel was a live wire, powerful, off his rocker, loving, conducting the spirits and hanging on by a thread. It’s impossible for me to even imagine knowing anyone like him again in this lifetime.
He was funny as Hell, unpredictable, incredibly talented, loud, sensitive and he could scare the shit out of ya if you weren’t paying attention.
I was lucky enough to the go deep into the trenches with him. We ran around globe together in our band taking on stages from Belgium to Brantford. We played in castles and in barrooms and hockey arenas living on a very long road and we had the best time of our lives.
Russel was guided by instincts not by sight and he ignited pure fire at high volume, came out swinging’ with a bass around his neck that he made look like a ukulele.
The lord never patted him on the head but he may have booted him in the ass a couple of times.
He was out of this world as long as we knew him and now he’s closer to us than he’s ever been.
Rick Prinsthal (Paperboys, Deacons. Rick & the Krickets, Rocket & the Renegades)
I'm so glad that Russ Wilson and I had a chance to hang out at the Junkhouse show in Hamilton last December. Russ and I first met nearly 40 years ago at a Florida Razors gig in a pub called 'Rebel's Roadhouse' on the mountain. Over the years, when I saw Russ perform live, either with Junkhouse or as solo performer, I was always amazed by his musical ability.
Every once in a while, Russ and I would see each other in the community. He always took an active interest in what I was doing and made me feel like he was in my corner. Russ had an affinity for the underdog and a genuinely caring heart. He was a good person.
R.I.P. Rusty keep on rockin', bro
Just gutted to learn that my cosmic soul brother, the singular Russ Rusty Wilson, thumping bass player of the beloved Canadian band Junkhouse, passed away this morning.
He was a funny, loyal, passionate giant of a man and we became fast and furious friends during the countless tours and festivals Barstool Prophets played with Junkhouse throughout the mid-90s.
A short testament to the heart in this man: in 1996, when Lori had freshly given birth to our #1 son, Liam, Russ drove from Hamilton, ON to Cornwall to personally deliver a gift. He showed up at the door of our apartment with gift in hand, chatted with me quickly (Lori was still in hospital) and offered congratulations and unsolicited but sage words of parental advice - “Don’t let the baby chew on electrical cords or get access to your credit card brother. Disaster in either case, guaranteed.”
He then hugged me, turned around and got in his car and drove back to Hamilton, as he was flying out to LA the next morning.
I’ve often described Russ as the sort of person who - if a friend needed a liver - would make sure you got a liver. It might not necessarily be HIS liver, but he’d make sure you got one in any case. 😆
A giant prince among mortal men. Taken too soon and profoundly missed. 💔
Hug your friends,
Graham
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