Stephen Wilson Jr. Stuns in Studio Debut with 'Gary' and a Soulful 'Stand by Me'

Stephen Wilson Jr. Stuns in Studio Debut with 'Gary' and a Soulful 'Stand by Me'

Stephen Wilson Jr. brought grit, heart, and precision to a high-profile radio studio this week, performing his new hit “Gary” alongside a stirring rendition of “Stand by Me.” Between songs, the rising rock and country artist traced his unlikely path from soft-spoken kid to newly minted awards nominee — and the battered $400 guitar he calls his forever instrument.

A quiet kid who found his voice at 16

Before the songs and the spotlight, Wilson Jr. says he barely spoke up at all. He described himself as “a fly on the wall,” an observant kid who didn’t picture life on a stage. That outlook shifted when his father gifted him a guitar at age 16. In his telling, it clicked almost instantly — a feeling that he’d stumbled onto something he somehow already knew how to do.

That moment set the course. What started as a new hobby quickly became an obsession, and within a few years Wilson Jr. was woodshedding daily, looking for a sound that felt wholly his. The early spark now fuels a catalog built on texture, dynamics, and a weathered emotional core that has connected with a growing national audience.

Twelve-hour practice days and formative influences

Wilson Jr. dove headlong into practice, sometimes logging up to 12 hours in a day. He taught himself Soundgarden riffs and tunings, absorbing the band’s heavy melodic pull, and he shaped his acoustic approach around a percussive attack inspired by Dave Matthews — “like a drum with strings,” as he put it. Those long hours sharpened his rhythmic instincts and helped forge a style that blurs genre lines while foregrounding tension, space, and feel.

The cumulative result is an artist who can pivot from intimate storytelling to surging, electric catharsis without losing the thread — a versatility on full display in this week’s in-studio set.

The $400 parking‑lot guitar he calls “One”

Much of Wilson Jr.’s sound runs through a road-worn Takamine he nicknamed “One.” He found it on a classifieds listing and bought it in a Nashville parking lot for $400, testing it through an amp powered by a car’s cigarette lighter. Within seconds, he knew it would be the instrument he’d carry for the long haul. “I shop with my hands, not brands,” he quipped, a line that doubles as a statement of purpose — feel over flash, substance over status.

Visually, the guitar bears the scuffs and scars of constant use; sonically, it’s the anchor of his set, responding to both delicate fingerwork and sharp, percussive strikes. In the studio, “One” gave “Gary” its skeletal thrum and turned “Stand by Me” into a haunting slow-burn that spotlighted his vocal grit.

‘Gary’ grows its legend — and a breakout year continues

“Gary” has quickly become a calling card for Wilson Jr., a track that fans describe as haunting and critics have lauded for its atmosphere and emotional punch. The studio performance amplified that momentum, framing the song’s ache and release in stark, live immediacy. It lands in the midst of a banner stretch for the artist, who recently earned a New Artist of the Year nomination at the 2025 CMA Awards and continues to see demand surge for his tour dates.

The session was recorded for a special set to air at 7 p.m. ET on Friday, Feb. 10, extending the performance to a wide satellite radio audience and giving latecomers a chance to hear the songs in their rawest form.

A classic recast: ‘Stand by Me’ in sepia tones

Wilson Jr.’s take on “Stand by Me” stripped the classic to its grain, leaning on breath, restraint, and that tactile acoustic pulse. Rather than a note-for-note tribute, the cover was rendered in sepia tones — a patient, lived-in reading that let the melody breathe and the lyric sit closer to the chest. The room fell into a hush; it was the sound of an artist choosing feel over fireworks and trusting the song to carry itself.

From the margins to the mic

If this week’s debut made one thing clear, it’s that Stephen Wilson Jr. has carved out a singular lane. The kid who once kept quiet now builds entire spaces with a guitar, a voice, and a stubborn devotion to craft. The details — 12-hour practice stretches, a $400 parking-lot find, the fusion of grunge tunings with roots grit — aren’t just backstory. They’re the architecture of a sound that’s beginning to define its moment, one performance at a time.