Stephen Wilson Jr.

Stephen Wilson Jr. is an American country and rock guitarist, songwriter, and vocalist.
Wilson was raised in Seymour, Indiana. Wilson competed in boxing as a youth. Wilson was a shy introvert unlike his outgoing boxer father and brother. However, his first “stage” was a boxing ring, where his father taught him to perform, not just fight. This experience, culminating in Golden Gloves fights, helped him conquer stage fright and shaped his resilience, a gift from his father that complemented his nerdy, musical side. Wilson recalls how Tim McGraw’s "Don’t Take the Girl" profoundly impacted him as a child on a long, country music-filled school bus ride in rural Southern Indiana. Raised poor by a single dad, and with an absent mother who suffered through abusive relationships, the song’s storytelling struck a chord, awakening him to songwriting’s craft. This experience sparked a deep passion for lyrics and poetry, inspired by his mother’s poetry on junk mail, leading him to secretly write and later dive into gothic literature and songwriting.
After leaving his first band, AutoVaughn, Wilson settled into a stable job in the research and development department of Mars’ food-science lab. There, he thrived professionally, married his wife, and moved to the countryside to raise his stepson, Henry. Yet, despite the outward success, he couldn’t shake his obsession with songwriting. Even in the lab, he found himself scribbling lyrics and melodies, a compulsion that had taken root years earlier on a school bus listening to country music. That seed, planted long ago, was now sprouting uncontrollably, pulling him toward a different life.
His time with AutoVaughn had connected him to professional songwriting rooms, where he glimpsed the craft behind the songs that once mystified him. The revelation hit hard: “This is how they do it—every day, in rooms like these.” It was as if the curtain had been yanked back, exposing the Wizard of Oz and all his levers. Suddenly, his indie rock days felt like a stepping stone to a bigger dream—writing with the best, like Tom Douglas and Craig Wiseman. While his lab job offered security, his heart was elsewhere, and the pull grew stronger with every passing day.
At Mars, Wilson’s boss—a mentor and music enthusiast—noticed his divided focus. Though Wilson excelled and was climbing the corporate ladder at a rapid pace, his boss saw the songs scratched out during downtime and sensed his restlessness. One day, he pulled Wilson aside for a candid talk. “They’re grooming you for management,” he said, “but I see you writing all the time. You get your work done, but that’s where your heart is, isn’t it? If money weren’t a factor, what would you do?” Wilson didn’t hesitate: “I’d be a songwriter.” His boss nodded knowingly and delivered a chilling warning: “They’re about to slap golden handcuffs on you—like they did to me 33 years ago. More money, a better house, private school for your kid. But you’ll be chained to this desk, and that dream you’re chasing? It’ll die. You’ll have cash, but you’ll be miserable.”
That metaphor—the “golden handcuffs”—haunted Wilson. It painted a vivid picture of a future where financial comfort came at the cost of his soul. The job was a golden opportunity most would kill for, but it wasn’t his. Within three weeks of that conversation, the fear of being trapped outweighed the allure of stability. He handed in his notice, walking away from a promising career to pursue songwriting full-time. It was a leap driven by terror and clarity, sparked by a boss who saw his truth and dared him to chase it.
Wilson considers Nirvana to be among his chief musical influences. Wilson's music is partly country and partly rock, and he has described it as "Death Cab for Country".
Wilson credits Soundgarden’s Kim Thayil and Chris Cornell for teaching him guitar, especially their open tunings and unique synergy. A childhood friend’s advanced Soundgarden tab book became his learning tool. Cornell’s underrated guitar skills, complex tunings, and enigmatic songs like “Limo Wreck” and “Fourth of July” inspired him, showcasing a fresh, visionary sound he believes still holds up today.
Though raised on Johnny Cash and Hank Sr., Wilson fell for Willie Nelson’s reckless, beautiful guitar style and fearless performance approach. Seeing Willie live at the Ryman at 23, as a seat-filler in Nashville, blew him away—his gut-string playing and nasal singing, which mirrored Wilson’s own style, taught him how to sing and deepened his guitar passion.
Wilson's album Son of Dad was inspired by the death of his father. On September 15, 2018, a year and a half after signing with BMG, Wilson’s dad died unexpectedly after emergency surgery. Back from a Texas writing trip, Wilson planned to visit him in Indiana, encouraged by post-surgery texts like “Can’t wait to see you.” But mid-packing, his sister called in a panic—his dad was dying. Wilson raced off but didn’t make it, saying goodbye via iPhone from Kentucky. Calmly, his dad said, “It’s okay, write a good song for me,” and “I love you” four times before passing. Grieving both his dad and his identity as his father’s son, Wilson felt a new purpose emerge: singing songs, a shift he believes his dad would’ve supported.