From the standpoint of interpretive sociology, as well as from the simple standpoint of a music fan, my blog will focus on music (mostly pop, rock, and experimental) and on other related aspects, including musicians, fans, musical events, and on music's place in the world. It will explore and celebrate originality, creativity, and other artistic virtues and will observe musical and cultural trends, patterns, and developments.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
In praise of some musical "outsiders"
For me, and I acknowledge that this is purely subjective on my part, my preference tends to be for rock music - my favorite musical genre - which doesn't necessarily contain too much unnecessary technical prowess. I think I've been listening to so much punk, as well as post- and proto- punk (and/or what was for a time rather meaningfully called "alternative rock," until, perhaps around the time that Pearl Jam hit the charts), for so long now that it has irreversibly altered my aesthetic sense. I suppose that taste is also subjective. I find, for example, that I can only take so called "classic rock" particularly anything recorded from the mid 70s on, in at most, small doses, if at that. I find most of what Eric Clapton did following his Derek and the Dominoes phase tedious and uninspired; a song like "Free Bird" makes me exhausted, even though I acknowledge that many hear it as a near sacred anthem; I think, for example, that Daniel Johnston, an outsider artist, whose musical instrument of choice is either a Fisher Price children's keyboard or a cheap $50 Sears acoustic guitar, is a much better musician than, say, Ted Nugent or Joe Satriani, in the sense that this more naive figure, Johnston, relies on instinct and vision, and not on cliches and formula with which to construct his craft; in many ways, I think that Jimi Hendrix - whose music I really love -, as well as Eric Clapton, whose earlier stuff I generally appreciate, were nevertheless perhaps two of the worst things to happen to music, because they both inspired too many rock guitarists, in the 70s and beyond, to want to be soloists, and in my opinion, most rock instrumental solos, especially those that go on for more than 20 seconds, are boring; which is also why I would rather listen to marginally capable musicians - such as the Shaggs, the New York Dolls, or Half-Japanese, than to very competent musicians like Van Halen, Rick Wakeman, or Emerson, Lake and Palmer. In fact, I'd argue that Half-Japanese were probably 20x greater overall than a band like Van Halen, and that Jad Fair is a greater and more important musician than David Lee Roth or Eddie Van Halen. Daniel Johnston is, to me, a more important songwriter and performer than, for instance, Neal Diamond or Elton John. In fact, Daniel Jonston's songs about Casper the Friendly Ghost have much more charm and originality than anything Elton John has written for a Disney musical. I also think that much of what passes for contemporary mainstream rock is completely lame and a big waste of time.
Let me add here that - in my opinion - some lengthy guitar solos in rock are just fine. For example, Robert Fripp's solo on Brian Eno's song "Baby's On Fire" is, to me, truly inspired. I also love the guitar solo on Frank Zappa's song "Willie The Pimp," (with vocals courtesy of the great
Captain Beefheart; I was amazed when Saturday Night Live once had him on as a musical guest, the kind of thing that this now teen pandering show would never do), from the album Hot Rats, a record I used to listen to each time I visited my sister and brother-in-law (it belonged to him, among other fine records) in Massachusetts. Zappa's work here, as elsewhere, borders on jazz, where instrumental soloing is an essential part of the genre. And I also love Adrian Belew's work on the Talking Head's classic - Remain in Light. (I was privileged to be able to see the Heads live at Radio City in 1980 with my friend Mike and they were quite amazing.) Incidentally, both Belew and Fripp were members of a later version of the prog rock band King Crimson, who for me have always been the exception to this "rule." I like them a lot, but can only take so much of the likes of Gentle Giant, Emerson Lake and Palmer, and Genesis.
I recognize, of course, that mine is probably a minority opinion. I tend to dislike things in rock music the more popular they are and to appreciate stuff that most people would think is bad/weird/incompetent, particularly when it expresses a passionate originality, which is why I appreciate stuff like the Shaggs, Daniel Johnston, Pere Ubu, Half-Japanese, The Throbbing Gristle, the Velvet Underground, and many many others. My idea of a great rock show is probably not 50,000 people at a baseball stadium responding to some big name act (after paying $80.00 for tickets) but rather, something like 80 people in a tiny club grooving on some obscure alt.rock band, particularly if they are the only ones left remaining after others were driven away by the inherent weirdness of the performers or, alternately, a group of folks of widely varying ages inside a gym dancing their hearts out to the unintentional polyrhythms of the Shaggs. I guess, then, that beauty certainly is in the eyes of the beholder. Anyway, to get right to the point, this is my roundabout way of saying how much I love bands like Half-Japanese. who are truly artists, with a vision. So too, the somewhat tragic figure of Daniel Johnston.
Two other points: As the above image suggests, once upon a time, back in 1989, Jad Fair and Daniel Johnston - two longstanding true outsiders - managed to get together to record a "session" of songs, mostly co-written by both artists (along with covers of such notable figures as Phil Ochs, Glass Eye, the Beatles, the Butthole Surfers, and Rogers and Hammerstein!), a session that was both crudely primitive and fully inspired. Not necessarily the best work of either artist, it is nevertheless great in its own way, with such magic moments as a dog barking accompanying the song "Kicking the Dog," Shaggs-like minimalist drumming (apparently courtesy of Johnston; that's him with the drum kit in the above photo) and a rather unhinged version of the South Pacific tune "Happy Talk." It's a unique recording.
The other point is: both artists have been the subjects of a series of really fine, empathetic feature length documentaries by Jeff Feuerzeig - The Band That Would Be King and The Devil And Daniel Johnston . I saw The Devil and this Spring and afterward spent the day thinking about such things as how mentally ill creative types are so often misunderstood and how creative an artist Daniel Johnston - hie own worst enemy - is, in spite of himself. Someday I'd love to meet Jeff Feuerzeig and chat with him about film, music and related topics since I think we probably have similar perspectives and similar aesthetics.
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