‘North American Poetry’ out now on Captured Tracks
In 2000, Alberto Wauters left Uruguay to live in a basement in Queens. Two years later he called his son, Juan, to join him. Juan Wauters crossed the threshold into manhood when he arrived in New York. Working at a factory, the father and son pooled their money to bring their family to the borough of opportunity. With no friends to speak of, Juan turned to music to take control of the loneliness of his isolation.
Juan Wauters presents himself as a kind of playground philosopher: a gum-poppin’ dude with holes in his sneakers staring hearts and daggers into the center of the universe from behind a pair of beat-up Ray-Bans. His lyrics are so simple that on first listen they usually sound stupid; his naïveté is as hard-won as a Zen monk’s.
11 September – London, Shacklewell Arms
12 September – Brighton, Bleach