The door to Big Wade’s music studio on 3634 Lake Street is wide open. I’m not using purple prose here; I mean this literally. This isn’t because Lewade “Big Wade” Milliner knows this is the day we are scheduled to meet; it’s a reflection of who he is to the musicians on the local scene and to the citizens of Omaha.
The studio space is Omaha’s own “Electric Lady Land,” where a Wurlitzer, a Yamaha keyboard, and a slew of other keyed instruments were surrounded by microphones and computers. There was the cream orange drum kit with gold trim demanding to be played, a church organ next to it, and in front, standing bongos and conga drums. At the back of the studio sits a booth for vocals and the engineering room, where Big Wade coordinates with an artist for an upcoming studio time via text.
“My first studio was in the basement of Reggie Clark’s house—he kept it simple, ‘You help me, I help you,’” Big Wade said. “He was starting a company called Versatile Entertainment. He gave me the key to his house, and I was in there every day making music.”
Big Wade sat back in his chair, then propelled forward by his laughter, his body a metronome for the natural beat of our conversation. He produces music not just technically, from the typing taps on his phone, spinning in his chair—all of Big Wade’s existence is making music, consciously and unconsciously.
“Mr. Lovegrade, the music teacher at Northwest, inspired and encouraged me,” Big Wade recounted. “Once I got on the Omaha music scene, I met the O.G.s who inspire me: Preston Love, Luigi Weights, Duke Riggs, Grover, Lipkins, Leeland Nickels, Craig Franklin, Greg Bouey. Omaha is my biggest influence.”
Big Wade kept his phone in his left hand, scanned the screen dutifully, and quickly shifted to his desktop to manage the music programs. He’s excited for the musician who’s coming in today. Nothing too serious—just a touch up, he said— in and out.
“More music venues are needed in this town, and promoters need to invest in the local scene,” he opined. “Enjoli Mitchell, Josh Hoyer, Black Swan Theory, Chad Stoner, Satchel Grande—you could shut the city down four times a year if you booked local talent. It helps build the scene and makes Omaha feel good too.”
Big Wade rocked his head, sighed, and shrugged in a groovy rhythm.
“The scene loses a lot too. We lose up-and-coming musicians to other cities, because there’s no outlet here yet,” Big Wade lamented. “We just lost music history as well—Curly Martin passed away last year. He had all the old school 24th Street and the jazz scene knowledge. More needs to be done to preserve and maintain Omaha’s music scene.”
Big Wade played the intro track to Black Swan Theory’s upcoming album, “Live at The Jewell,” for me. The band’s sound is gospel funk. I seamlessly became a part of the crowd as the music shook me—a sound engineer’s speakers are meant to shake your soul and bones. When the track was over, I wasn’t just listening to an album; I was part of that crowd. When the music stopped, it was no different than being kicked out of the venue. Big Wade spun in his chair while his shoulders shimmied, and he turned to face me. He had a smile as warmly encompassing as the sun.
“We’re like little kids on stage; we’re having more fun than the crowd, and they’re having a ball. Jonathan Brooks, who plays organ in Black Swan Theory, stayed on me about doing something,” he shared. “I was away from the scene back in 2016, and a group of all-stars came together as a band, which reminded the five of us, when you get gifts from God, it comes with responsibilities.”
Big Wade sat up, planting his feet on the ground. He now sat still, reminding me that music is silence just as much as it is melodies. He stared at me and took what seemed to be the deepest breath he’d taken all day.
“If you’re likable, it’s worth more than talent. I went to school for drums but now I play piano. I didn’t go to school to learn sound engineering, and there wasn’t YouTube to teach you back then, which is me telling you, ‘If you have a dream, go for it. If you don’t go 100% you’ll regret something. Give it everything.’”
To learn more, visit bigwadeandblackswantheory.com.
This article originally appeared in the July/August 2024 issue of Omaha Magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
