James Wallace is the kind of guy you’d want on your side if you ever got into a music fight in prison: smart, versatile, and a little bit reckless. With songs that come out of nowhere and stick with you like a sharpened spoon in your back, Wallace composes music with the brain of a book-cooking accountant and the eyes of a crazy homeless man that lives down the street.
— RVA MAG
Somewhere between the brain of a book cooking accountant, and the eyes of a crazy homeless man who lives down the street. I was born on October 6th, 1984 in Richmond, Virginia, while the Grateful Dead were playing “Going to Hell in a Bucket” two miles away at the Richmond Colosseum. I was raised on pee-wee herman. In 2002, on a rainy morning in July, the pull-string voice-box on my Pee-Wee doll was no longer sounding human. I left Richmond, and in just four years, made it to Nashville. I work as a Chinese Translator. Now I play music to keep from getting carpel tunnel.