The Janine Wilson Band: Rocking their roots

In her wildest dreams, Janine Wilson opens for Springsteen and is on stage at the moment right before The Boss comes out.

“Opening for Springsteen - even though he never has anyone open for him - in a big honking arena, when the lights go out, and everyone goes apes--t crazy, and they’re waving the Bic lighters instead of just the cell phones,” Wilson said. “I would love to perform in a big arena at least once in my life”

It was a far more intimate crowd at the Feb. 24 Goose Creek Music filming of her live roots rock performance at Franklin Park Arts Center in Purcellville, but that didn’t keep the D.C.-based Wammie-award-winning Janine Wilson Band from playing their hearts out. They all have jobs outside of the band, so they practice and perform on nights and weekends.

The line-up includes guitarist Max Evans, keyboardist Brian Simms, drummer Clark Matthews and bassist Tommy Hannigan. Few voices could match the collective energy of the band, but Wilson, whose influences include Springsteen, Patsy Cline, Melissa Manchester, and 1970s Bette Midler, has a bold voice that takes no prisoners. If I wasn’t familiar with anatomy, I would think that her voice began somewhere in her gut, gathering steam before she belted it out, as she grabbed the mike with a “come here, you” gesture.

And yet her voice can be gentle, too. In her cover of Elvis Costello’s “Almost Blue,” her husky voice carries the song like a mother cradling a child.

Wilson usually shares song-writing duties with Evans.

“I come up with an idea, and I say, ‘I’ve got these lyrics,’ or I hear him noodling around on the guitar, and I say, ‘That’s great. Let’s use it,’” Wilson said.

Before launching into “Not For Real,” written by Evans on the effects of heartbreak, Wilson said there was probably a story behind that song.

“We need to get him all liquored up - then he’ll spill,” she said.

Wilson didn’t limit the onstage interaction to the band.

“Anyone know a bad joke?” she asked the audience during a break between songs. “The only ones I know are old ones.”

The audience hooted with approval.

Wilson likes to know she’s reached her audience in other ways.

“When Max and I were just starting to write songs together, we were playing this bookstore in Dupont Circle, and it’s such a thankless gig, you know - you’re in a balcony next to the kitchen and you’re in the middle of a ballad and the espresso machine goes off,” she recalled. “But we were playing a song for the first time and a woman looked up and said, ‘That is so my life right now.’”

For Janine Wilson, that’s what makes everything worth it.