Excerpted from “Wayne” a mini-zine available with CD purchase in the Cornslaw Store.
If you lived in Morgantown, West Virginia in the 1990s, you likely saw this strange mustachioed man, donning a beret, limping around the hills. Some had positive interactions with the man, others not so positive. But, surely, all interactions were strange.
His name was (and surely still is) Wayne Pereira. He was “professionally” known simply as “Wayne.” This “professionalism” is seemingly reserved for single output: ¡At Last!. And although it may seem strange to speak of Wayne in terms of professionalism–especially for Morgantowners who may have ranked Wayne among the bevy of strange town residents
intermingling with drunken frat boys, countrified hippie-punks, and part-time Mountaineers encountered during their third senior year–Wayne did achieve a small level of not notoriety as an “outsider musician.”
I interacted with Wayne numerous times during my seven years living in Morgantown. And, that really is the only way to describe it. You didn’t really hang out with Wayne. He sort of hung around. You didn’t really set out to hang out with Wayne, you had interactions with or, better yet, encounters with Wayne.