I wasn’t expecting too much from last night’s show, I missed last week and didn’t really feel like being there. When I started picking out my music, I felt like I was struggling to find enough to put a show together with. I pulled out barely enough albums to fill an hour and figured I was screwed. But somehow, everything really came together nicely. I’m not sure how it happened, but the music flowed amazingly from one song into the other and my mic breaks were right on target. It was a nice little surprise.

Source: 90.3 The Core

Daniel Johnston, Smiley, Kent State School Era, Acrylic on unknown medium, mounted on cardboard, 8.5″x11″, Acquired from artist 2003. Hole in work is for a lightbulb. Published in Hi, How Are You? The Life, Art & Music of Daniel Johnston pubished by Smokemuse and Last Gasp. Work featured in Rock, Paper, Scissor exhibit at Robert Berman Gallery (curated by Jon Cournoyer) in Santa Monica in 2009. Image published in Rock, Paper, Scissor catalog and in promotional material.

The indie music blog The Blue Indian recently did a great phone interview with indie legend Daniel Johnston. Johnston was one of the most influential musicians of the 80’s and 90’s indie scene. The fantastic 2006 documentary “The Devil and Daniel Johnston” chronicled Johnston’s troubled life.

Waiting to exhale

There were enough awkwardness-as-comedy moments at Daniel Johnston’s St. David’s gig to fill a Don Rickles guest spot on Letterman. My faves: threatening to end the show only 2o minutes into it and the joke about suicide.

You had to be there, that’s the general feeling after watching the film marking 10 years of the All Tomorrow’s Parties festival. Either because the performances were so good that film could never fully capture the moment, such as Grinderman’s rampant 2007 set, or because eventually indifference settles in towards clips of strangers being drunk, performing covers of ‘Maps’ and making out during Seasick Steve and The Boredoms. Those are their festival stories, nobody else’s, and it’s not much different from being shown other people’s holiday photos.

This film, though, would be nothing without the fans – a collaborative effort, film by fans, artists and filmmakers has been cut together by director Jonathan Caouette, most thrillingly at the start of the film when various footage of two different performances of ‘Atlas’ by Battles build to a rowdy climax. Most of the clips are from 2004 onwards, since when the availability of relatively cheap cameras and phones and YouTube has made everyone a potential documentary maker.

ATP’s back story is covered briefly in a sequence where founder Barry Hogan watches himself being interviewed on The Culture Show. There are unanswered questions, such as how it stays sponsorship-free or how curators are chosen, but mini-manifestos from Jerry Garcia, Thurston Moore, Patti Smith and Iggy Pop certainly explain at least part of what ATP stands for – reclaiming rock & roll from big business and industry. It’s worth considering during the clips of chalets bustling with ad hoc ‘fan bands’, an idea that has since been co-opted for multinational brands’ for ad campaigns.

Audience and artists living, mingling and performing alongside each other (as Daniel Johnston, Lightning Bolt and Grizzly Bear are filmed doing) is a great part of ATP’s appeal, but it’s the action onstage that’s the most exciting here, such as a lush version of ‘The Boy With The Arab Strap’ by original festival curators Belle & Sebastian, and invigorating, intense performances by Yeah Yeah Yeahs; a ritualistic, chaotic Stooges; and furiously funky and lo-fi Gossip. Les Savy Fav, who performed at the film’s screening tour in October, bring the stage to the audience and together they sum up 10 years of ATP as good as anyone when they shout: “We were there when the world got great! We have to make it that way!” Originally written for High Voltage

Out: on DVD now

Grinderman – ‘No Pussy Blues’ (Live @ ATP 2007 with Bobby Gillespie)

This was, for me, the great cultural event of Liverpool Music Week. It was a 7 hour festival of music ranging from the harp work of Rebecca Joy Sharp, musical mayhem with a.P.A.t.T. and Stig Noise and culminated with Daniel Johnston. Oft credited as being Kurt Cobain’s musical influence it was great to see him shuffle out onto stage and play some amazing songs in his own special way. I’ve never seen the Masque so packed as that night. An amazing atmosphere.

I’m thinking of trying to compile a comprehensive list of all my favourite songs–I don’t know why, I’ve just been kind of reflecting on that lately. Songs that I love, and why I love them, what they’ve meant, etc. In addition to my regular posts of what I’m doing at Chart, I think I’ll also be posting entries about my favourite songs (in no specific order). One of the reoccurring themes I’m finding when I think of all of my favourite songs, is the majority of them can be classified as Jack Black says in High Fidelity, as “sad bastard music.” Well, I’ll give him that one. Take today’s entry for a perfect example.

I think today will be one of my newer acquisitions as a favourite, Daniel Johnston’s “Grievances”. This song seriously makes me want to curl into a ball and cry like a baby. Every time. Why that makes it one of my favourite songs is beyond me, but I just find it so heartbreaking. I guess when you think back to his history as an artist, and where he’s coming from, it’s pretty easy to find yourself emotional over the song. Not to mention, it really speaks to any time you might have felt abandoned, or alone.

This video is from The Angel and Daniel Johnston, a show at Union Chapel that was recorded not long after the documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston came out–it was meant to showcase his stabilization as an artist after his serious bouts with manic depression. Truthfully, I think that’s part of what makes this version of the song so beautiful.

So, I can’t even keep up with regular posting on this blog, but I decided to chip in on the trend to, now that 2010 is only a month and a half away, reflect on the past decade. In terms of society, we’ve entered a new Dark Ages as far as I’m concerned, but because one of my mission statements for this blog was to not talk about me, I’ll only bother my friends in the bar with that. I don’t consider myself important enough to be sharing my opinion on everything that’s going on.

So, let’s talk about music then! In my list there will be no Wilco, no Arcade Fire or no Radiohead. The first two surely would be in my traditional decade list, but I decided to focus on those bands that aren’t in any lists, albums that have been ignored or forgotten, or albums people have never even heard about. 26 albums precisely, and I believe all of them are timeless. At least to my ears, because I give them a spin all too often.

Making this list sucked. I had to leave out a lot of favorites. And quite a few of the bands have featured on this blog before. I won’t upload new songs for them, unless the uploaded songs are from another album.

Anyway..here is number 26 to 20. Oh yeah, no albums from 2007, 2008 or 2009. I wanted to make it really obscure.

26. Hudson Bell – Captain Of The Old Girls (Upperworks, 2002)

Sounds like: A nineties indie-retro melancholy soup

Hudson Bell is one of those bands I got to know by just downloading everything that was in my way. Ninety per cent of those songs disappear into the Microsoft Trash can, where it will be monitored how much illegal music I have once owned, so that it can be used against me. Hudson Bell is the bastard son of Neil Young and Built To Spill, but just a little bit sadder then. I wrote about them here. You can also find some songs there. And release that new album man.

25. Arab Strap – Monday At The Hug & Pint (Chemikal Underground, 2003)

Sounds like: Scottish pub-sadness, but as long as there is beer in the end, we’ll be happy.

Arab Strap wasn’t known for their happy songs. The collaborative project of Adrian Moffat (who released a fine album this year by the way) and Malcolm Middleton (who has been releasing good stuff since he started a solo career) was all Scottish melancholy. It was rough, but musically amazing. The Mumbling of Moffat, combined with the sometimes uptempo melodies, makes this album a master in duality. Ok, this is crap, but it’s really good. As an extra I’ll add a song of a sideproject of Moffat, The sick anchors, where he sings a cover by Atomic Kitten in his own amazing way. If you have that single, I’ll marry you.

Arab Strap – The Shy Retirer

The Sick Anchors – Whole Again (Atomic Kitten cover)

24. the Love of everything – Handjob Community ( Redder Records, 2004)

Sounds like: Daniel Johnston’s squeaky basterd nephew, but even worse at singing.

I have not known the Love of Everything for more than a year, but already they are among the most played bands on my last.fm pages the last six months. It’s got this sincerity I’m looking for in music. Anyway, i wrote about the band not so long ago. You can download some songs there.

23. Havergal – Lungs for The Race (Secretly Canadian, 2001)

Sounds like: The Postal Service who didn’t care about being poppy. Why, but not Why?

Havergal..damn, i wish he would resurrect from whatever grave or coffee bar he’s in, to release something new. He made two albums and then kind of disappeared from the face of the earth. the last login on MySpace is from beginning of 2009. Maybe i should become a documentary maker and then go on a search for Havergal. Anyway,  I wrote about him here.

22. Black Bear – The Cinnamon Phase (Baskerville Hill Records, 2006)

Sounds like: Casiotone for The Painfully Alone, you’d better watch your back.

Another project that hasn’t been heard of after this album. Too bad, cause I think this is one of my favourite bleep-bleep indie squeak bedroom projects. I wrote about this project here. Download those songs.

21. Chauchat - Chauchat (Free digital release, 2006)

Sounds like: the sadcore indie project no one knows about, but everyone should know, cause it’s fucking underrated.

I don’t use the word ‘fucking’ that often, but in regard to Chauchat, it’s necessary. There is no vessel in my mind that would doubt that this band can be really big with the american indie crowd. It’s got all what indie bands need. Damn. Luckily, it’s not too late to discover, cause this album can be found for free on the internet. And therefore I applaud them even more. Also try out their other stuff. And by writing this, I found out they released a new album for free this year, to be found on Last.FM.

Chauchat – Olde Smuggler

Chauchat – Young And Dethroned

20. Okay – High Road (Absolutely Kosher Records,  2005)

Sounds like: A cricket singing about heartbreaking emotions.

This cd was rediscovered by me the last week. It’s been my wake up-cd. The unique way with which Okay connects the sad lyrics (and voice) with poppy melodies..It breaks my heart each and everytime. another bastard son of Daniel Johnston, with the ability to unite melancholy with uplifting indie pop.

Okay – Compass

The rest is for later this week! (or two or three or four. Eventually I’ll get there)

Following Daniel Johnston’s October 15 show at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston, I wrote a review for the Daily Free Press that was Published: October 22, 2009.

Just as a turtle has a shell, and the Beatles have fame, Daniel Johnston has fans.  These are certainties of life.

Despite the dramatic change in his style, not talking about  his donning of sweats and sneakers, and too-tight t-shirts, but the update in his music to something that sounds highly professional on his latest album,  “Is and Always Was,” Daniel Johnston’s fans keep coming back.  The new style, which is a decided step away from the lo-fi songs he is loved for, may have come as a surprise, but Daniel Johnston hasn’t isolated any fans.

At 48 years old, Johnston is back on tour, looking familiar and just as friendly but his sound is different.

What’s different? Why?

Follow the jump for answers, questions, and answers in Daniel’s questions.

He is promoting his newest album, which he co-produced with Jason Falkner–the same Jason Falkner who co-produced Beck and Air, who are both famous for a style that is far from home-made.

NO NEED FOR AN EXPLANATION

When asked, “Why?” Johnston didn’t really know why the change to studio-produced songs.  He said his brother, who is also his tour manager, set it up.

“I really think this new album is one of my favorites,” Johnston said in a phone interview. Simple, unrefined, unprofessional and unmatched lyrics make this album unmistakably Johnston’s, despite the high tech distractions.

Daniel admits that he doesn’t own a computer and he doesn’t know how to work the Internet, so why the transformation, since it obviously wasn’t to satisfy his longtime fans, who admit to being confused by the change?

Judging from the crowd at the last week’s show at the Paradise, Johnston is still like a prophet leading disciples. Perhaps it’s safe to say that a crowd that commiserates is a crowd that stays.

Johnston began his set on Thursday on stage by himself, accompanied only by a music stand that held his sheet music but the crowd kept him company and laughed at his jokes. His hands trembled.  His voice was direct. His performance fulfilled the promise that his legend provokes with the songs, “Isolation,” and “Life in Vain.”

There was an at-home atmosphere. A few fans sang along but it was more an event to witness.  Very Beatles-heavy, some parts of the show felt like an ode to Johnston’s favorite band; however, it was a treat to hear Beatles music played live by one of their self-proclaimed largest fans.

If the publicity surrounding Daniel Johnston, with the documentary, “The Devil and Daniel Johnston,” and the rumors of his battle with bipolar disorder, began a mystery of what it would be like to meet such a person, then seeing Daniel play live solved that mystery, almost.

QUESTIONS, UNANSWERED

In the second set, a young rock band, “The Capitol Years,” of Philadelphia, joined Johnston on stage.  Where did these four wiry guys with trendy hair cuts come from? From here, things felt a bit uncomfortable.  Why did they not know his lyrics? The band’s new, trendy, and young style created an imbalance that could not compete with the simplicity of Johnston’s solo stage.  No more folksy ballads.  It was a rock show. Johnston jammed out.  You could tell he wanted to be John Lennon. And the band wanted to be Daniel Johnston.

Johnston kept to his humble roots by making the production last only about 30 minutes.  After the production, he thanked the audience politely, and he came out for an encore of “True Love Will Find You In the End,” as if he’d remembered himself, and forgotten his fairy tale of being a Beatle for a moment.  This was the Daniel Johnston that had drawn the crowd.

There was hardly any dancing at the show but that’s not to say that people weren’t moved.

Afterward, everyone was in a scramble to meet Daniel Johnston.  Everyone wanted to get their questions answered.  Thanks to a press pass, I did get to meet Daniel and I did finally get my questions answered, when Daniel asked me one:

DUH DUH DUH

“Do the girls like my music?”

Daniel Johnston in Union Chapel

VIEW: Photo Gallery under the jump

Check out exclusive 20 Watts photos of Daniel Johnston live from Union Chapel in London, UK. Sporting a dirty jersey, sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, Johnston was shaking for most of the concert. He played a mixture of older songs like “Casper the Friendly Ghost” and “Speeding Motorcycle,”  along with a few selections from his latest album (Review here). The performance included  three Beatles covers.

“We do a lot of Beatles covers,” commented Johnston, recalling his major coming-of-age influences. According to our source “he messed up the lyrics of ‘Revolution,’ but didn’t seem too phased.” Bouncing rapidly back in true Johnston fashion, he certainly mesmerized the audience. Returning for an encore after the crowds raging demand. Johnston finished the show with a performance of his song “True Love Will Find You in the End.”

– Photos by David Miller
– Copy by Irina Dvalidze

A truly heartwarming show from a living legend. On Monday I popped along to my favourite venue, Union Chapel, to catch a headline show from Daniel Johnston.

First were Wave Pictures, who, miraculously, I have managed to have never seen before. I really enjoyed their set, it was fun and light hearted and had a few special guests including Stanley Brinks. Have a listen to them here.

Then it was Laura Marling. She seemed more confident than the last time I saw her (back in February). I stayed for the first couple of songs, but then headed down the road for a different gig (Choir of Young Believers!) before heading back to catch Daniel Johnston.

He played a pretty lengthy set. It was all straight from the heart, there was such a warm atmosphere. Daniel was joined by Guillemots and the Wave Pictures as backing bands. He played lots of his most well known songs, including three (three!) Beatles covers. His in between song chat was sweet and endearing and it really touched my heart to watch him play. So much soul power and feeling, it was a really beautiful show. He returned for an encore of the wonderful True Love Will Find You In The End. It was a really special show and I would definately say to disregard any reservations about seeing Daniel Johnston live and go if you get the chance.

Have a listen and watch his beautiful Black Cab Session song here.

If I ever have more than $.14 on my debit card, I’m buying on of these Daniel Johnston shirts.

Check out “True Love Will Find You In The End”

Daniel Johnston's Is and Always Was

WE GIVE IT: 15/20 Watts
MEDIA: Check out our Daniel Johnston PODCAST

In the early 1980s, a gangly, bloody youth stumbled into a church in Austin, Texas, looking for medical assistance. A few months prior, he had bought a moped, run away from home and joined a carnival — before a hulking carnie beat him up and left him for dead.

Such is the life of Daniel Johnston, the bipolar, cassette-wielding, “outsider” musician who has been ignoring lyrical and musical conventions since the early ‘80s.

Johnston’s latest release, Is and Always Was, continues the erraticism and unpredictability that has defined his life and his career, stepping up the production tenfold but preserving the brilliance that fellow musicians and journalists have raved about for years. Previously released track “I Had Lost My Mind” boasts the benefits of Jason Falkner’s hi-fi production early on: Falkner manipulates drums, electric guitars and even electronic fills (as opposed to just Johnston’s voice and piano-playing) to turn agood song into a great one.

At the same time, Johnston has not lost his power for irony, drama and despair. On “Fake Records of Rock and Roll,” he rattles off tongue-in-cheek criticisms of the very genre he’s trying to penetrate. Power chords blast through distortion as Johnston shouts rocker-isms like “look out!” before singing “well it sounds just like shit to me.”

Similarly, a lisped delivery on the song “Tears” retains his old themes of love and madness, repackaging them into a dirge fit for aborted relationships everywhere. And as with most of his work, the beauty is in the brevity.

Months ago, the overweight 41-year-old was an all-but-forgotten as a lost cause — the depressing-to-discuss genius of indie music. With Is and Always Was he supersedes his status as an “outsider,” releasing an accessible, well-constructed record that attests to both his condition and his will to overcome it.

– Eric Vilas-Boas

WE GIVE IT: 15/20 Watts
REVIEW: Read our full review HERE

Daniel Johnston — literally indie-rock’s resident madman — steps production up tenfold on Is and Always Was, his first release in six years.  In this podcast, 20 Watts’ Eric Vilas-Boas discusses the album and what it means for Johnston’s work.  Read Eric’s full review here.

– Eric Vilas-Boas and Irina Dvalidze

Portada del disco Is And Always Was de Daniel Johnston

A pesar de tener 48 años y vivir con sus padres, Daniel Johnston se las ha arreglado para convertirse en una leyenda viva del folk norteamericano. El artista ha tenido una carrera sumamente accidentada debido a sus problemas mentales que, lejos de apartarlo de la creatividad, lo han llevado a llegar dónde pocos han llegado, destacándose por su pasión y su honestidad brutal.

Ya de niño se expresaba artísticamente por medio de cortometrajes y cintas de casete, y realizaba cómics y grabaciones de maquetas para regalar a quien las quisiera. Pero en la adolescencia llegaron los problemas con el diagnóstico de su desorden bipolar extremo, responsable de intensas paranoias, brotes de esquizofrenia y episodios violentos. Esta última lo llevo a visitar varios hospitales psiquiátricos mientras que su música, que consistía en temas desafinados que hablaban de demonios internos, tomaba otro rumbo y sus maquetas pasaban de mano en mano hasta convertirlo en una figura de la escena musical de Austin.

Debido a que fue criado en el seno de una familia profundamente religiosa, Johnston le temía exageradamente al diablo y su música llego a ser una expresión en contra de este. Su miedo enfervorizado le hizo rechazar un jugoso contrato con Elektra Records porque es el mismo sello al que pertenece Metallica, banda que él consideraba seguidora de Satanás.

De todos modos, la suerte tocó nuevamente a su puerta, y firmó un contrato con Atlantic Records, sello con el que publicó un único álbum y del que fue expulsado luego de que su disco Fun vendiera sólo 6.000 copias. Esa fue la última vez que el músico publicó un álbum de la mano de una gran discográfica, lo que probablemente contribuyó a que alcanzara la categoría de artista de culto.

A pesar de la montaña rusa que ha sido su vida, el genio admirado por artistas como Kurt Cobain -quien llegó a salir al escenario con una camiseta con la imagen de la carátula de uno de los primeros discos de Johnston, Hi, How Are You?-, ha lanzado hasta la fecha una docena de discos y ahora presentará en Reino Unido su nuevo trabajo, Is And Always Was, el que fue concebido, como no podía ser de otra manera, en el garaje de la casa de sus padres.

i feel like scoffing milk bottle sweets again

and getting drunk in other ways

dramatic babe dramatic

poor daniel

these are my new favourite paintings (the sharks in particular) !!

last night i dressed up as marie antoinette, had to get it out of my system. thank god i did

i think this poem, written in the Gnostics (cheeky sassy teachings that didn’t quite fit into the bible) is possibly the best example of magic that i’ve found yet

I was sent forth from the power,
 and I have come to those who reflect upon me,
 and I have been found among those who seek after me.
Look upon me, you (pl.) who reflect upon me,
 and you hearers, hear me.
 You who are waiting for me, take me to yourselves.
And do not banish me from your sight.
 And do not make your voice hate me, nor your hearing.
 Do not be ignorant of me anywhere or any time. Be on your guard!
 Do not be ignorant of me.

For I am the first and the last.
I am the honored one and the scorned one.
I am the whore and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am  and the daughter.
I am the members of my mother.
I am the barren one
 and many are her sons.
I am she whose wedding is great,
 and I have not taken a husband.
I am the midwife and she who does not bear.
I am the solace of my labor pains.
I am the bride and the bridegroom,
 and it is my husband who begot me.
I am the mother of my father
 and the sister of my husband,
 and he is my offspring.
I am the slave of him who prepared me.
I am the ruler of my offspring.
 But he is the one who [begot me] before the time
  on a birthday.
 And he is my offspring [in] (due) time,
  and my power is from him.
I am the staff of his power in his youth,
 [and] he is the rod of my old age.
 And whatever he wills happens to me.
I am the silence that is incomprehensible
 and the idea whose remembrance is frequent.
I am the voice whose sound is manifold
 and the word whose appearance is multiple.
I am the utterance of my name.

Why, you who hate me, do you love me,
 and you hate those who love me?
You who deny me, confess me,
 and you who confess me, deny me.
You who tell the truth about me, lie about me,
 and you who have lied about me, tell the truth about me.
You who know me, be ignorant of me,
 and those who have not known me, let them know me.

For I am knowledge and ignorance.
I am shame and boldness.
I am shameless; I am ashamed.
I am strength and I am fear.
I am war and peace.
Give heed to me.
I am the one who is disgraced and the great one.

Give heed to my poverty and my wealth.
Do not be arrogant to me when I am cast out upon the earth,
 [and] you will find me in [those that] are to come.
And do not look [upon] me on the dung-heap
 nor go and leave me cast out,
 and you will find me in the kingdoms.
And do not look upon me when I am cast out among those who
 are disgraced and in the least places,
 nor laugh at me.
And do not cast me out among those who are slain in violence.
But I, I am compassionate and I am cruel.
Be on your guard!
Do not hate my obedience
 and do not love my self-control.
In my weakness, do not forsake me,
 amd do not be afraid of my power.
For why do you despise my fear
 and curse my pride?

But I am she who exists in all fears
 and strength in trembling.
I am she who is weak,
 and I am well in a pleasant place.
I am senseless and I am wise.

Why have you hated me in your counsels?
For I shall be silent among those who are silent,
 and I shall appear and speak.
Why then have you hated me, you Greeks?
 Because I am a barbarian among [the] barbarians?
For I am the wisdom [of the] Greeks
 and the knowledge of [the] barbarians.
I am the judgment of [the] Greeks and the barbarians.
[I] am the one whose image is great in Egypt
 and the one who has no image among the barbarians.
I am the one who is hated everywhere
 and who has been loved everywhere.
I am the one whom they call Life,
 and you have called Death.
I am the one whom they call Law,
 and you have called Lawlessness.
I am the one whom you have pursued,
 and I am the one whom you have seized.
I am the one you have scattered,
 and you have gathered me together.
I am the one before whom you have been ashamed,
 and you have been shameless to me.
I am she who does not keep festival,
 and I am she whose festivals are many.
I, I am godless,
 and I am one whose God is great.
I am the one whom you have reflected upon,
 and you have scorned me.
I am unlearned,
 and they learn from me.
I am the one whom you have despised,
 and you reflect upon me.
I am the one whom you have hidden from,
 and you appear to me.
 But whenever you hide yourselves,
  I myself will appear.
 For [whenever] you [appear],
  I myself [will hide] from you.
Those who have [...] to it [...] senselessly [...].

Take me [... understanding] from grief,
 and take me to yourselves from understanding [and] grief.
And take me to yourselves from places that are ugly and in ruin,
 and rob from those which are good even though in ugliness.
Out of shame, take me to yourselves shamelessly;
 and out of shamelessness and shame, upbraid my members
  in yourselves.
And come foreward to me, you who know me
   and you who know my members,
 and establish the great ones among the small first creatures.
Come foreward to childhood,
 and do not despise it because it is small and it is little.
And do not turn away greatness in some parts from the
   smallnesses,
 for the smallnesses are known from the greatnesses.

Why do you curse me and honor me?
You have wounded and you have had mercy.
Do not separate me from the first ones whom you have [known].
[And] do not cast anyone [out nor] turn anyone away
  [...] turn away and [... know] him not.
  [... him].
  What is mine [...].
I know the [first ones] and those after them [know] me.

But I am the mind of [...] and the rest of [...].
I am the knowledge of my inquiry,
 and the finding of those who seek after me,
 and the command of those who ask of me,
 and the power of the powers in my knowledge
   of the angels, who have been sent at my word,
   and of the gods in their seasons by my counsel,
   and of the spirits of every man who exists with me,
    and of the women who dwell within me.
I am the one who is honored, and who is praised,
  and who is despised scornfully.
I am peace,
  and war has come because of me.
I am an alien and a citizen.
I am the substance and the one who has no substance.

Those who are without association with me are ignorant of me,
 and those who are in my substance are the ones who know me.
Those who are close to me have been ignorant of me,
 and those who are far away from me are the ones who have
   known me.
On the day when I am close to [you],
   [you] are far away [from me],
 [and] on the day when I [am far away] from you,
   [I am close] to you.

[I am ...] within.
[I am ...] of the natures.
I am [...] of the creation of the spirits.
[...] request of souls.
[I am] control and the uncontrollable.
I am the union and the dissolution.
I am the abiding and the dissolving.
I am the one below,
 and they come up to me.
I am the judgment and the acquittal.
I, I am sinless,
 and the root of sin derives from me.
I am lust in (outward) appearance,
 and interior self-control exists within me.
I am the hearing that is attainable to everyone
 and the speech that cannot be grasped.
I am a mute who does not speak,
 and great is the multitude of my words.

Hear me in gentleness, and learn of me in roughness.
I am she who cries out,
  and I am cast out on the face of the earth.
I prepare the bread and my mind within.
I am the knowledge of my name.
I am one who cries out,
  and I listen.
I appear and [...] walk in [...] seal of my [...].
I am [...] the defense [...].
I am the one who is called Truth,
  and iniquity [...].

You honor me [...] and you whisper against [me].
[...] victorious over them.
Judge then before they give judgment against you,
  because the judge and the partiality exist in you.
If you are condemned by this one, who will acquit you?
   Or if you are acquitted by him who will be able to detain you?
For what is inside of you is what is outside of you,
 and the one who fashions you on the outside
  is the one who shaped the inside of you.
 And what you see outside of you,
  you see outside of you;
  it is visible and it is your garment.

Hear me, you hearers,
 and learn of my words, you who know me.
I am the hearing that is attainable to everything;
  I am the speech that can not be grasped.
I am the name of the sound
  and the sound of the name.
I am the sign of the letter
  and the designation of the division.
And I [...].
[...] light [...].
[...] hearers [...] to you
[...] the great power.
And [...] will not move the name.
[...] to the one who created me.
  And I will speak his name.

Look then at his words
 and all the writings which have been completed.
Give heed then, you hearers
 and you also, the angels and those who have been sent,
 and you spirits who have arisen from the dead.
For I am the one who alone exists,
 and I have no one who will judge me.

For many are the pleasant forms which exist in
 numerous sins,
 and incontinencies,
 and disgraceful passions,
 and fleeting pleasures,
   which (men) embrace until they become sober
   and go up to their resting-place.
And they will find me there,
 and they will live,
 and they will not die again.

Thunder Perfect Mind (or Intellect) intrigues me because of how strongly it confronts being a woman. It’s power really does seem enlightened, read on it here

It is our perception of the world that causes the apparent evil of the world. To perceive something is to discriminate between it and its context. It is this separation or making of differences that allows us to operate in the world, but also that enslaves us to it by monopolising our attention. “Thunder: Perfect Mind” insists that only by seeing the larger picture of unions of all opposites can we escape this servitude to the world. In other words, what liberates us is the knowledge of into what we have been thrown, or have come.

LOVE

For his first real release in 6 years, Johnston returns with an album that could never be labeled as “outsider music”. For the most part these are upbeat, quirky and unashamedly poppy songs, with a few forays into classic rock. “High Horse” and “Without You” bounce along on piano, owing as much to the Beatles as they do to Supertramp. On the former Johnston continues his courting of Laurie, his voice cracking in hopeful swoops, while the latter is disturbingly reminiscent of S Club 7’s “Reach for the Stars”, though not at the expense of being eminently catchy.

The joys of this record are crystallised in “Queenie the Doggie”, its instrumentation a checklist for happiest. sounds. ever: handclaps, ukulele, glockenspiel and backing vocals by a dog’s impressively rhythmic bark. On the brief “Had Lost My Mind”, Johnston spins a narrative where his brain gets away from him like an opportunistic pet. Now that his Bi-Polar is under control, he addresses it with a levity that should hopefully help in distancing himself from the troubled genius mantle he has condescendingly been saddled with. Even on the albums less jolly moments, such as “Tears”, the lyrics are married to a very listenable melody that sugars the pill. It would be fair to say that this is his most accessible album yet. While his quavering voice may dissuade some (and his sometimes alienating lisp, too noticable on opener “Movies in Your Mind”), the optimism and well crafted pop of Is and Always Was is a great introduction for anyone with the stomach for its overgrown naivety

When dealing with outsider art, respect is due. Nay, respect is essential. But so is egalitarianism. The danger has always been to treat the savants and unexpected genii of the outsider world with something other than the same deference usually saved for normal artists. It is, of course, only the market’s imposition on the fruits of artistic labour, and the artist’s heed of its overbearing weight which differs between those artists slave to it and those removed from it…

And it is in this light that I approached three recent cultural exponents of the outsider cause: the opening of the new Museum of Everything in Primrose Hill, the Koestler Trust’s 2009 Art By Offenders, Secure Patients and Detainees exhibition at the Royal Festival Hall, and a wonderful opportunity to see Mr Daniel Johnston performing at the splendid Bloomsbury Ballroom.

Firstly, the Museum of Everything. Just around the corner from the tea rooms, bistros and cocaine residue of this illustrious corner of NW1 lies a treasure trove of outsider art – the collection of filmmaker James Brett – which has been promoted to the public as not only “London’s first ever space for artists and creators living outside our modern society”. The result is less than respectful.

The curatorial decision seems to have been to make the space, you know, kooky, like these kooky fellas on show. All slanted walls, badly drawn name signs and cobbled together display rooms both using and enhancing the space’s industrial backwater ambience. Unpainted/badly painted walls, breeze block walls and jutting out wires and bricks make for a space knowingly different… but not outsider. A gallery space doesn’t have to go this far to mark itself as distinct from the white space of the contemporary gallery. Indeed, one of the most celebrated and complete collectiosn of Outsider Art – the collection of Mr Art Brut himself, Jean Dubuffet, in Lausanne – is a perfect embodiment of this. At no point does this gallery impinge on the work it is celebrating, but rather takes a back seat letting the Dargers, the Scotts and the Gills take over. Similarly, the Whitechapel’s Inner Worlds Outside exhibition of a few years previously fully respected these works by placing them alongside their contemporaries illustrating the interaction of the arts in recent history outside of a framework potted with distinctions. The Museum of Everything seems to knowingly plays upon its difference from contemporary art at a time when the latters’ association with money and greed threatens to devalue it further than the market itself has managed.

As such, I left this new museum dejected, even having seen a wonderful collection of artists all worth noting and celebrating. The calligraphic meanderings of Dan Miller, for example, 

Dan Miller

or the troublingly post-propaganda Soviet ramblings of Alexandre P. Lobanov 

Alexandre P. Lobanov

On a more positive note, however, the museum’s decision to ask noted artists to write about its exhibitors was a fantastic one, and one which salvaged some sort of favour in my eyes. I was particularly fascinated by not only the speakers they chose, but the apparent linkages. Jamie Shovlin’s relation to Charles AA Dellschau’s stunted historiography, Tal R’s appropriate evocation of Judith Scott’s luxuriously colourful abstractions, and even Pete Townsend’s celebration of the extraordinarily powerful drawings of Donald Pass.

Donald Pass, untitled, 1984

 

I encountered similar problems at the Royal Festival Hall attending the 2009 Koestler Trust exhibition. Again, the work was fascinating and, at times, truly exceptional, not to mention largely devoid of the clichés and inanities of contemporary frieze-art. And, in fact, the exhibitions’ place on the Spirit Level of the RFH is well chosen and well-curated – by inmates of two women’s prisons as it turns out. Unfortunately, the Southbank appears to then kick itself in the foot by repeatedly failing to advertise the work sufficiently. In none of the flyer stands, of which there are many, can be found leaflets promoting this exhibition, and on encountering the few works which sit on the main concourse, you would be hard pushed to realise their were more works to be found downstairs. Such a wonderful opportunity to see the work and minds of these artists deserves better.

Particularly noteworthy were two works, one by an inmate from HMP Brendon, Bucks listed only as Michael entitled Is Masculinity Inevitable?, and another anonymously exhibition by an inmate from HMP Shotts, Scotland entitled Yours Sincerely, The Tabloid Press.

Is Masculinity Inevitable? , Michael, HMP Brendon, Bucks

Is Masculinity Inevitable? (detail)

 

Yours Sincerely, the Tabloid Press, Anon, HMP Shotts, Scotland

 

Both – though not necessarily proficient in high-art terms – exhibit a developed ability with their materials, whilst picking apart some of the more interesting questions which must reoccur within penal institutions. Masculinity is presented shot through with metaphors both expected and ambiguous, from matadors to molecular science, history lessons through to contemporary history. The result is a seeming meditation on the complexity of the human condition, exemplified in a way the tabloid press would be hard pressed to believe never mind appreciate. The second work, subsequently, embodies a more immediate and impassioned response to the Paparazzi’s approach to the accused and their families: slobbering, scrupulous and stoic in their hounding and, impressively, with more than one face as the sky curdles and surroundings haemorrhage.

Here is the world of the penal outsider, stripped of dignity and attempting to claw some back in paint and pen. Rather than working “outside our modern society” as, supposedly, are the outsiders of the Museum of Everything, here we find men and women working AS A RESULT OF modern society, or so they seem to say… There are few declarations of dissatisfaction with the results of their choices, and their position in society, but dissatisfaction with society – civilization in Freudian terms – abounds. The confines of the RFH appear an appropriately cultured and Liberal surround to showcase such views within.

And so finally to the admirable and incredible Daniel Johnston, whose surroundings at the Bloomsbury Ballroom appeared the perfect final resting place of my week of outsider art: triumphant, elegant and perfectly social. Here was a setting neither outside nor aware of its relation to culture.. this was HIGH culture, and brazenly so… and Daniel Johnston shone in the spotlight bearing all his fragility and fears as a badge of pride. 

Daniel Johnston w. David Tatersall of The Wave Pictures.

 

Starting off with just a guitar like a babe-in-arms for company, Daniel walked on stage nervous and awkward. He played a few songs to rapturous applause, and for the moment, I was uneasy. I am a big fan of Johnston’s music, but the response seemed almost out of kilter with the reality of Johnston’s rickety attempts at renditions. What’s more, I couldn’t hold in the feeling that the applause lay somewhere between appreciation and encouragement, and the awkward patronising sound of pity…

Yet as time went on, Johnston grew in stature. Never relaxed, but certainly enjoying himself and allowing himself a joke or two, songs such as Living Life and Bloody Rainbow, sung with accompaniment, were joyful and enchanting, and the final rendition of True Love Will Find You in the End couldn’t have been better judged.

And it was with the accompaniment of support band The Wave Pictures for this and indeed the last five or six numbers that Johnston truly came into his own. Their enjoyable brand of indie lounge rock sloped away behind him, providing the occasional glimmering solo, and most memorably a crunching and riotous embellishment of his track Rock N Roll, as Johnston yelped over the guitars his lyrics about how rock n roll, and more specifically the Beatles gave him something to live for as a young man with extreme Bipolar disorder. And as he screeched

        That Rock N Roll, it saved my soul

 one couldn’t help but feel glad it had, and that it was doing the same for a room full of people.

 **

In the Wave Pictures’ accompaniment of Daniel Johnston I witnessed the most disarming spectacle of the week. Three young musicians clearly alongside a hero, a hero with extreme difficulties who had to leave the stage to collect himself more than once during the concert. Yet playing alongside him they appeared to experience all the joy one would expect of such an opportunity. Almost goading each other on to rock out more heavily on Rock N Roll, they enjoyed every second of their evening with him, and so did he it appeared.

Similarly, the inmates given the opportunity to show their work by the Koestler Trust, and those invited to curate the exhibition, were treated with nearly all the respect due to them as artists standing alone.

Yet in the Museum of Everything, we have the ability to witness the work of some of the most interesting and truly wonderful artists of the last century or so, celebrated endlessly since Dubuffet and Hans Prinzhorn first acknowledged the proffers of those working “outside of society” decades ago, presented as the misfits hundreds of people have worked painstakingly to put an end to… it’s a disappointing rendition of an inspiring collection, and a continuingly important insight.