鈥楻ock 鈥檔鈥 roll troubadour鈥
Having heard a request from an audience member, Brad Wagner makes an announcement.
鈥淭his song is about a friend of mine,鈥 he chimes in.
He launches into the guitar riff for one of his originals, acoustic instead of his electric on the recorded version, singing about 鈥淢y Friend Richard.鈥
Those with an ear for double entendres probably can guess where that goes, but Wagner pulls off the lyrics in a manner that is both intelligent and draws a knowing wink from any red-blooded male who has spent a night or two in a tavern.
And that鈥檚 just one of the 15 thematically unified vignettes the Mount Lebanon resident presents on an album that puts his songwriting and musicianship on full display.
鈥淏arfly鈥 may have been released on compact disc eight years ago as of August, but it continues to ring true as a document of what Wagner and his performing compatriots tend to encounter in their travels and in their lives.
鈥淲hen I recorded it, some of the songs were about 10, 12 years old,鈥 he says. 鈥淭he newest song on there was the title track, because I kind of wanted to loosely tell a story about the local rock 鈥榥鈥 roll 鈥 for lack of a better word 鈥 troubadour who goes out and performs in less-than-ideal situations.鈥
Indeed, the album鈥檚 opening track, 鈥淟ittle Julie,鈥 sets the stage by presenting the narrator in a role of palpable disenchantment: Here I am in a wedding band.
But the upbeat, straight ahead rock 鈥榥鈥 roll behind the lyrics helps convey the message that, although less than ideal, the circumstances can be a lot of fun.
Speaking of which, 鈥淏arfly鈥 is full of places to crack a smile if you listen closely. 鈥淟os Angelese鈥 serves as a prime example, with lines like 鈥淚 wrote a song on my four-track/It was a song about Arnold Horshack and they call the hookers escorts/And they all drive German imports.鈥
Then the tune wraps up with a statement that far too many musicians have heard from California industry bigwigs:
鈥淚f I would just cut out all this nonsense/About justice and social conscious/When you get your (expletive) together, come back to Los Angeles (pronounced 鈥淎ngelese鈥).鈥
Another standout song is the aptly titled 鈥淩egular Joe,鈥 which sums up Wagner鈥檚 鈥淏arfly鈥 persona with self-descriptions such as 鈥淟ive on a dead-end street, not a cul de sac鈥 and 鈥 remember, the album came out three years before 2016 鈥 鈥淢ore like Donald Duck than Donald Trump.鈥
There鈥檚 plenty more where that came from on an album that鈥檚 brimming with sly, well-executed observation and commentary.
鈥淚t鈥檚 a little bit about me, a little bit about people I鈥檝e worked with and played for, and then just making some stuff up,鈥 Wagner explains.
He鈥檚 had a lot of practice.
鈥淚 started writing as soon as I picked up a guitar,鈥 he says, and soon afterward he was playing in a six-piece band called Critical that reached its apex performing at the Three Rivers Arts Festival.
After the group鈥檚 demise, Wagner started a band called the Boilermakers that focused on his originals. He also played rhythm guitar for the Flashcats, which backed the legendary Benjamin 鈥淏ull Moose鈥 Jackson in his final years.
Performing as an acoustic act, Wagner became a staple at Tony DiNardo鈥檚 Graffitti Caf茅 Pub and Showcase in North Oakland, opening for a diverse cast of visiting artists including Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee Leon Russell, onetime heavily MTV-rotated Great White and Dave Alvin of the rockabilly-revival band the Blasters.
鈥淭hat was good exposure in how to deal with crowds that weren鈥檛 necessarily there to see you, how to navigate those waters,鈥 Wagner recalls.
These days, he plays many a venue where audience members may be more interested in food, drink and conversation than listening to the music. But those who do pay attention are rewarded with one heck of a show.
For instance, he鈥檒l integrate a device called a loop pedal that allows him to record his guitar on the fly and then add parts on top, creating the sound of a larger ensemble. And sometimes he does that with his voice, which becomes a veritable chorale.
When he鈥檚 not performing as Brad Wagner, he鈥檚 half of the wonderfully named duo Weekend at Blarney鈥檚, joining nephew Pat Reilly.
鈥淎t family gatherings we started playing together, and that morphed into a side project,鈥 Wagner explains, with gigs especially prevalent around St. Patrick鈥檚 Day and at the likes of Riley鈥檚 Pour House in Carnegie and Mullaney鈥檚 Harp and Fiddle in the Strip District.
He and Reilly tend toward more of a rock-oriented take on Irish music 鈥 think Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly 鈥 and that鈥檚 pretty much par for the Wagner course.
As the music on 鈥淏arfly鈥 demonstrates so deftly, his major musical influence is the genre that leaped into prominence in the mid-鈥50s and, as its fans back then predicted, never has died.
鈥淧eople who feel that way and embrace that kind of music are basically all descendants of Chuck Berry,鈥 he says about the spiritual father of all rock 鈥榥鈥 roll guitarists, 鈥渁nd Elvis, for that matter.鈥
Speaking of Mr. Presley, one of the 鈥淏arfly鈥 songs is 鈥淛ust Like Elvis,鈥 with the narrator wanting to emulate the pre-Vegas-jumpsuit version for the world to see 鈥渙n the Sullivan show.鈥
Just like Elvis, Wagner tends to perform cover versions, putting his spin on the work of artists from Buddy Holly to John Mellencamp.
But when you catch a Brad Wagner show, he鈥檇 be happy to hear a request for one of his own compositions. And you鈥檒l be glad you asked.
For more information,visit bradwagnerbarfly.com and www.facebook.com/brad.wagner.10.





