He’s Got Personality to Spare

Wesley Willis is one of the most talked-about unsigned musicians in the country, with a following that already includes such pop hotshots as the Beastie Boys, Dave Grohl, record producer and mogul Rick Rubin and members of Urge Overkill.

But major labels are hesitant to sign the Chicago performer.

That’s because he’s a chronic schizophrenic--and some companies are apparently sensitive about appearing to exploit someone who is ill.

“You want to be putting out the music because you think it’s cool . . . as opposed to just the spectacle of it,” says Beastie Boy Mike Diamond, who is thinking about signing Willis to the Beasties’ Grand Royal label.

Diamond and other rockers have a sincere affection for Willis’ crude but charming songs--and the feeling is mutual. Willis, 32, has in the past three years written and recorded more than 400 songs, a large percentage of them odes to musicians, including Urge Overkill, Elvis Presley, Kurt Cobain and Eazy-E.

The latest musical honoree is former Nirvana drummer Grohl, who’s the subject of two songs. Grohl’s manager, John Silva, proudly displays the lyrics to one of the songs, “Foo Fighters,” on his office wall.

The structures of Willis’ songs are all virtually identical, using programmed Casio keyboard music with a spoken rap about the honored artist’s show or career, a howled chorus of the artist or band name and, at the end, a catch phrase from a TV commercial.

In other songs Willis talks about subjects ranging from his hospital experiences to his hulking, 6 foot-5 inch, 320-pound frame. Many of these can be heard on a “Greatest Hits” CD recently released by Alternative Tentacles, the San Francisco label owned by former Dead Kennedys frontman Jello Biafra.

The artistic activities have been both therapeutic and profitable--since he began recording, he has been hospitalized only twice, both times due to routine problems with medication. He currently shares an apartment with another musician, paying his share of the rent from his music sales and by selling his childlike paintings of Chicago sites as a street vendor.

Brendan Murphy, the drummer in the Wesley Willis Fiasco, a hard-rock outfit that backs Willis in clubs and on some recordings, says that it’s been difficult to avoid a freak-show mentality.

“There’s definitely an amusement factor where people go, ‘Check this out, this guy’s insane ,’ ” Murphy says. “But when the band plays in clubs we get packed houses and everyone enjoys it--Wesley, the band and the fans. There’s no exploitation there.”

Murphy says that Willis and the band are interested in a big-label deal if the conditions are right, but for now the plans are to release a just-completed Wesley Willis Fiasco album through the small Chicago label Anti-Gravity Records.

The obvious current comparison is Daniel Johnston, who earned a cult following in Austin with songs that often reflected his own mental illness. He was signed last year to Atlantic Records.

“For the jaded music listener--and God knows most A&R; people are jaded--someone like Daniel Johnston or Wesley Willis is a breath of fresh air in that the honesty of the output isn’t calculated at all,” says Johan Kugelberg, an A&R; executive at Rubin’s American Recordings.

“Both Daniel and Wesley would be making music even if their entire fan base consisted of just five people,” he says. “And Wesley’s stuff just rocks. When I got his first tape I didn’t think whether he was insane or not, but whether he was great.”