Way of the Wilde: Laura Wilde

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8 leadingpossibilities november/december ‘11 extraordinaryprofile Way of the Wilde cover and profile photo by Daniel Siboni

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LP Magazine's feature cover for December 2011 - by Chris Frost. Wilde is Australian-born, A-based rock musician and young business mogul who proves it's good to buck the system.

Transcript of Way of the Wilde: Laura Wilde

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Editor’s note:

Her blond, perfectly layered hair frames her face, upon which an expression of joy,

focus and determination is etched. Her twenty-one year-old fi ngers grasp the upper frets of the V-neck like someone who has been play-ing electric guitar for thirty years, a veteran already, a rock Goddess in the making.

But music and rock phenom Laura Wilde is not a veteran rock God-dess any more than she is just a rock musician. You could no more say she is young or old by listening to her symphony-like mastery over her guitar or her raspy, emotion-fi lled voice in command of the rock lyric like nobodies business than you could say she is just a model, a daughter, a business woman, an entrepreneur, just by looking at her. She is all these things and so much more.

Laura is, like the place of her birth—Melbourne, Australia—an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, housed

in a piece of real estate that makes most jaws drop on site. She is deep, complicated, highly intelligent, and just so happens to be all tied up in an extraordinary human being, who also just happens to be a young woman, a rock artist other rock artists envy, a beautiful person inside and out, and quite likely going to be both famous and infamous for it all.

I sent my feature writer and senior editor, Chris Frost and our videog-rapher and Zen writer Mike Wilson to Los Angeles this year, to catch up with Laura Wilde, to see if we couldn’t see what made her tick, or rock, as it were. What they discov-ered, what Christopher Karne Frost captures for you in his article “Way of the Wilde”, is a peek inside the mind of a woman about to become silly famous for her gifts.

And while their evening didn’t afford the capture of video we can share (no suggestion it was untoward – just no performance time, which is what we’d hoped for), we think Laura

Wilde is someone twenty-somethings can learn from, fi fty-something can study to see how to get a handle on their own daughters in the making, and just about anyone with half an appetite for extraordinary can ap-preciate. Wilder things are afoot, and wild doesn’t always equal bad. Laura Wilde proves that sometimes, wild is best.

I grin like one of those front row fans at a fi rst concert I once made fun of, as I wander along Sunset

Boulevard in search of a dream I had years ago, when the idea of rock and roll seemed feverish and surreal. We’d stopped along the infamous stretch of concrete that has felt the boots of many a hardcore rock fan before me, and dropped inside for refreshment

by Christopher Karne Frost

There is a photograph housed at FasterLouder.com, a website dedicated to all things faster

and louder in music in Australia, shot by Boo Harris, Australian photographer, wherein Laura

Wilde is cradling her Gibson Flying V in both hands—which themselves appear wrapped

above the wrists in leather forearm accoutrement, as if bound by the faster louder credo.

“Hope for the best, expect the worst.”

—Laura Wilde

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at a place I only know from the mov-ies. Before I can recall which one, I soon find myself tracing the maze-like hallways and stairwells back from the men’s bathroom to our table and my oh-so cool company on the patio of “The Rainbow Bar and Grill” next to “The Roxy.”

Cooler heads prevail as I put my fan-boy meanderings aside, and I intelli-gently choose not to tell my new friend Laura Wilde about my giddy, unbridled joy of being in the land of fantasy and rock stars. Instead I peer out across the LA evening with my Zen partner video man in tow, and settle in for the night.

It is easy to see how one’s machina-tions about stardom can get away from one if one is not too careful in a place like this. After all, I am in the land of dreams, in an infamous rock and roll bar, about to chat with a soon to be famous rocker who I know is beyond my dreams, and I note already that she is above dreaming dreams she has no intention of hunting down and owning.

Many rockers of old have undoubt-edly walked the floors I stride; gear and

grainy images of Motley Crue, Alice Cooper, The Doors and Van Halen are all upon the walls. And I can’t help but smile again at the thought of my illustrious company this night scattered around the walls of the room ten years from now, where some journalist like me will sit in a corner and thank his lucky stars to have been invited along for the ride. Laura Wilde of Melbourne, Australia – perhaps the next big name in L.A., or the world—has my rapt at-tention.

There have been many female rockers before her to shake the scene; Lita Ford, Pat

Benatar, Blondi and Gwen Stefani to name a few, and a few more still who hail from Australia from the rock world, bands such as AC/DC or INXS. There is something about rock and roll and Australia, where even American bands like the Foo Fighters will tell you they always want to play for Australian fans at the Big Day Out music event because rock is respected down under like no other. (“Summer’s biggest day out rolls

into Melbourne”. The Age. 25 January 2003. Retrieved 10 May 2008).

I knew AC/DC hailed from the big country, but I always thought they had influenced musical tastes of Australians and not the other way around. It seems, however, the big nation of red rock, ancient people and jumping rats the size of skyscrapers could teach the U. S. a thing or two about how to indulge in their rock and roll.

Laura Wilde is relatively known in her country as a comer, and she has made her way to the U.S. in search of American rock fame now. I can’t help wonder that the stars born of a previous age, as things have changed dramatically for the world of the Entertainer – the world of the Rock Star—could not have imagined the likes of Laura Wilde. The days of whiskey sodden band-mates trash-ing motel rooms, one another, and the world around them in general is a thing of the past, a thing not so kindly looked upon and certainly no longer respected. Laura is proof.

photo by Robert John

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There is an art to being a Rocker of today, and it’s a business – it, my new friend Laura assures me, by her actions less than her words, should be respected and handled accordingly.

We talked about her influ-ences in music.

Lenny Kravitz influ-enced Laura with the Flying V, and Gwen Stefani not only with her music, but more so in the way she conducts her life. Bands Laura was enthralled with over the years? Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Slade, T. Rex, Guns n Roses, Motley Crue, Nirvana, Joan Jett and Iggy Pop, just to name a few. A girl after my own heart.

Like the artists men-tioned, many more have graced the global stage, and Laura certainly pos-sesses the skill set re-quired to graduate to this esteemed list. And yet, besides her obvious good looks and gifted musical arsenal guaranteeing suc-cess, there is within a kind, generous and intrinsically intelligent being.

My curiosity peeked after watching her work the drums, the computer, her bass, and navigate my increasingly thought-provoking questions with grace and an easy smile; I found myself wondering if she had any idea how truly bright she is? Her humbleness, modesty and easy charm were obviously ingrained and definitely not just for show. What a blessing for the entertainment and mundane world I mused. What might the final curtain be? How far ahead was her sight? I am curious to see and so I go further.

Her schedule is daunting with band rehearsals, singing lessons, and writ-ing, her lyrics and music taking up time

the way it should. She tells of walking the streets and checking out “what’s in - and what’s out.” She reminded me at times of a CEO, only the streets, bars and bandstands were her hallways, conference rooms and infamous water cooler spaces – all places to be in on the know.

It seems she practices what a wise man and woman before her did teach and teach her well: know the formula and stick to the plan, the formula be-ing hard work, perseverance, patience and sacrifice. And it sounds so simple,

and really it is – if you just stick to the plan. For how many times in movies do we see things go awry when what happens? Someone %$#@! with the plan. Laura and “those who won’t be named” (because she asked us not to) did stress to me most emphatically in their Aussie accents – “just stick to the fucking plan,” and I made a mental note: this was the one time I heard a curse word and thought it was perfectly executed, not at all profane, and man-aged with great care.

I felt like I was in a Tarantino film with Ozzy Osbourne chastising me, even though it was a very simple task.

My own plan was to come to LA, meet the woman, have the conversation, write the damn article. I sometimes don’t see beyond my own nose. Plan? What plan?

But now I believe it is a plan I will surely fail, for this conversation is suddenly so beyond the box and outside the lines, for what I find is not expected, not of the basic or average varietal rock musician idle. I find a young woman made of steel nerves and determination that doesn’t want to be famous, but extraordinary at her craft

and business, and it is this reason I suddenly know that Laura, I think, will indeed stick to the plan. I realize I must not write dribble and suddenly I wonder if I am capable.

I suppose this is a good time to tell you that at twen-ty-one years of age, Laura carries herself with a confi-dence and mysticism usually reserved for those who have already attained the heights of Olympus, already shaken the foundation of the world. She has had great success at home in Melbourne, having headlined her own 22-show

tour, having a drink named for her at her local pub, having conquered a television stint on BEAT TV working as a presenter, and she has even had the honor to play a private acoustic show for the Saudi Arabian Royal Family. Last but not least - celebrity judge for “Australia’s Hottest Hunk Finale” and “Ralph Swimsuit Competition.”

Here in the states she has canned her first album, which she awaits with great anticipation as do her growing fan base of tens of thousands. And she fights on, fights for the summit, and does so with a smile. Having had opportunities to advance her career far

“It’s a team, a band, not every man for himself. Each has to have pride in the show.”

—Laura Wilde

photo by Josh Ellis

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forward with major label signings, she has turned them away as the price for glory was to be paid with the soul, by having her cast her dreams aside to be just another glam rocker and not the Rock-Star she knows she is. How strict in her ideals, her soul, and her core; she will not be sacrificed for stardom. Very noble, and to be admired; greatly here on the hard city streets of LA.

Being one who sets the bar so very high for herself has forced upon her the endless task of learn-ing the technologies and business savvy usually reserved for those previously mentioned, as well as sacrificing time “out and about,” where instead of bar hopping or hanging with friends to all hours of the night, she is taking care of business. In the end, the newfound capabilities she has worked into her daily grind can only make her stronger and more viable in an ever-challenging market, for the higher she climbs the more temperamental the terrain.

Having at one time many hands in the pot to assist and stir—co-writers, editors and producers have more often only proven how difficult it is to find another to re-place them with, people who possess the same caliber of mind, the same drive for a common goal and the smarts to match. Few others have been able to tow the line, making the climb more difficult.

Yet instead of cutting the cord ahead of her and calling it quits, she reaches back and swiftly and surely cuts the line behind, severing the connection com-pletely to those who would drag her down. And with increased burden she travels on, consumed in her pursuit and relentless in her drive. I hoped never to be on the back end of that cut line.

She laughs often as we speak, and as her comfort level increases, so too do the jokes begin to fly. It seems Laura keeps those around her entertained with more than bass rifts, catchy lines and drum solos, as she is quite the jokester, another thing about her that is quixotic or juxtaposed against what you think about her on sight.

And it comes to me, as she leans for-

ward with a quip at my expense, that had Austin Powers been a strikingly beautiful, blonde-haired vixen with an Aussie ac-cent, sporting black leathers and enough knuckle iron to flay a face, he would have been she, right before me.

Yet alas, I realize, I am blessed with someone very real in Laura Wilde when I peer up to swim a moment in her joy. And behind her, the reminder of her watching muscle, a matte-black Desert Eagle, or hand cannon should you prefer to call it – so I laugh a little louder. Laura, it seems, is a gun aficionado, another juxtaposed fact that doesn’t quite mesh with the obvious recipe. In time I see our good-natured jokester has an affin-ity for firearms that would make many a survivalist blush. Soon I spot a brand new HK 4-16 Assault Rifle. Do I send a blankie and bib, or Gift Certificate to the local armory so that her newborn doesn’t go hungry?

She talks of friends and the sands-of-the desert with whom and where

she spends a good deal of time, sharing in the wanton destruction of watermelons and other lead and full-metal-jacket worthy targets whenever the tension boils too high. It isn’t easy being a rocker, and I can think of a great many worse ways to blow off steam.

As for her bullet-delivering “children” or “play-things” - the hand-

cannon and HK are neither the oldest or first, but instead that honor goes to her first Flying V, her electric guitar, a Gibson Flying V to be exact, first prototyped in 1957, launching the V-like futurist design, much the same as Lenny Kravitz cradled while mesmerizing a young three year-old Laura with “Are you gonna go my way?” I know in an instant the respect she shows for her weaponry is applied to guitar as well as her collected arsenal.

Laura told me the day her V was dropped in her fingers was the day she was hooked. At the age of twelve her parents gave her the first guitar and amp she would call her own. Today the walls of her domicile shine with many of her favorite tools of the trade, and

so too the bedrooms of children she has donated her trophies, that they too may dream guitar dreams. Being a fan myself of all things medieval, I was enthralled with her great-room, filled to the rafter with posters of movies past such as The Terminator and Pulp Fiction, the room’s high shag red carpet and drum-set, guns, guitars and banners ringing out to me as a King’s great hall, or Queens in this case, with her weapons of war at the ready set amongst the skins of fallen foes and their fallen banners, all calling out the triumph of her kingdom.

We spoke of karma as Laura explained she practices and believes; “what goes

around comes around” and to always “pay it forward.” And no sooner had we discussed this that a tale Laura had shared earlier in our discussions invaded my mind and seemed most applicable. A year or so back she recounted how

“I have to learn for myself, and have certainly been burned.”

—Laura Wilde

photo by Calvin Cropley

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her parents had bought her a fancy new camera, which she shortly thereafter gave away to a familiar face in the crowd by the name of Calvin Cropley, a young man who always seemed to be at her shows and for whom she knew had a great interest in photography. Calvin later captured what may be the iconic and everlasting image of Laura rocking out on stage (photo facing page). Good karma indeed.

I was so taken by her intelligence, by how so young she was and yet she already understood more of eco-

nomics and the entertainment industry than many of today’s producers of yes-terday. The sleek-worded, ill-balanced contracts of before shouldn’t be a worry for Laura, though I fear many a sucker still walks the streets to keep the snake tongued schemers of the entertainment industry well nourished for many a year to come.

Ironically, thus far Laura’s greatest foe has proven to be perception - that of the narrow minded. For too many billboards and magazines host silken-skinned models posing with the tool of Laura’s trade – The Flying V. The fact she can rip the skin from your ears while you gesticulate in delight with hair aflame to her tornado sound is missed by those who have not yet taken the time to listen, to truly know, and some-times obscured by her extraordinary beauty that could easily grace the cover of Sport’s Illustrated as much as it could the Rolling Stone.

In her wisdom and matter-of-factedness about the short-sid-edness of LA she knows she has

to overstep, she shared the following with me about the road to success; “To be a successful Rock-Star today,

is to be a Rock-Star without being a Rock-Star.” She further theorized how technology has broken down the barriers between star and fan, so the drunken Rock-Star is a thing of the past – no one has the time or patience for it. And where before, hundreds of musicians made millions of dollars, now millions of musicians make hundreds of dollars. “You have to have your (stuff) together or you aren’t going to make it.” Wise words, one and all.

At the outset of our trip to meet this young blonde haired Rock Star, my videographer Michael and I were none too clear of what was in store. A trip to L.A., a couple of nights spent on Sun-set Strip with all its starry-eyed hope-fuls, tourists and God knew what. Per-haps a lucky run-in with an established star doing none too graceful two-steps down the boulevard, we wondered – we didn’t know.

But no sooner had Laura opened the door, the feeling of something un-usual was about to happen set in, and throughout our entire day I had the feeling of being elsewhere, in some-thing yet to be, part of something soon to be seen, became ever more prevalent. There was even a time I forgot Michael’s name entirely and had to ask “who are you again?”

We weren’t fed space-cakes or slipped a rufi, and we didn’t have any

drinks (well until that evening that is) or partake of any medicinal, yet there we were with this family, enjoying a mo-ment of undeniable tranquility and joy. It was very simple, it was very clean, and it was quite a memorable and mov-ing experience, one for which Michael and myself will always be thankful. In

the end it was us who was treated to time and opportunity to sit, talk, jest and jive with some of the coolest, down to earth people either of us will ever meet.

What should be noted is the unde-niable professionalism and character Laura brought to our interview, and to her life and career, it seems. I was left with a knowing for as before we had drunken louts belting out rifts and getting pissed drunk in front of the world as “role models” for the youth of the 80’s, 90’s…in the 21st cen-tury, now we have at least one role model right; bright, capable, talented and truly respect worthy, an individual blazing a path in the world of enter-tainment and society alike. Laura car-ries this banner with conviction and holds it high as a new face for the industry steps forth.

I can think of none other more worthy to lead the charge, for there are too few such talented, soulful, and inspirational people as Laura in this world, whether it is as a Rock-Star or something else entirely. She will attain heights the rest of us only spy through tube-capped lenses of our digital cam-eras in a crowd of ten thousand.

Rock on Laura, Rock on. lp

scarlet woman (chorus): lyrics by laura wilde

Pull up a chair and watch the tables turnSee the upper hand crash and burnDon’t let the guard downStay high aboveThat’ll teach a girl to fall in love

www.laurawilde.com

photo by Robert John