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The Exploitation of the Ghost of Daniel Johnston

Saturday night, I found myself in Omaha, Nebraska to see Daniel Johnston. Yes, that Daniel Johnston. The show was at Saddle Creek's venue, Slowdown, within their hipster complex of shops and entertainment arenas near downtown Omaha.After a couple of forgettable openers, Johnston came out to play a few tunes on guitar. The sound almost didn't cooperate, but he eventually began playing. His voice was hoarse and the guitar playing was awful, but the songs were true. A session player joined Mr. Johnston on stage to accompany him on several older tunes.

Johnston took a break before returning with a full band to flesh out his bedroom, tape-recorded journal entries. He struggled to holler his once-personal songs as the band almost rocked like one of those Vegas reviews. This is when surrealism set in.

I began to think back to the documentary about Johnston's exploits that I had seen two years ago at True/False. The Devil and Daniel Johnston told the story of how Johnston craved fame and attention as he created deeply personal art in the form of songs, film, and drawings. All this occurred before, during, and after Johnston's many manic episodes.

One of the most important themes of the film, and Johnston's life was the idea of exploitation. Amidst mental breakdowns and hospital stays, Johnston's music was exploited to sell records (or in this case, cassette tapes) and concert tickets. Anyone from his manager to pseudo-girlfriends used this man's highly-inventive songs for their own gain.

Later, the same would occur with Daniel Johnston's bizarre drawings. He was hailed in the New York Times as the next big thing in "outsider art". His Crayola drawings of eyeballs and superheroes were fetching four and five figures apiece primarily because the man was looked at as a sort of idiot savant.

The film that depicts this artist's life even stinks of exploitation. Somehow the filmmakers were able to piece a narrative from Johnston's own home movies into a story of his lifelong mistreatment. The filmmakers used this story to further their own careers despite their original intent of exposing the world to true genius.

Even Johnston has exploited his own mental illness for his own fame. He found his way onto MTV in order to tell the viewing audience that he had written his album in the midst of a mental breakdown. His heartbreak and mental struggles have turned out to be his most profitable skills.

This brought me back to last night's performance. The show was highly orchestrated to include Johnston's most beloved songs with a Vegas-like showmanship never seen in the underground from which he rose. It was uncomfortable to watch kids gyrate to "Grievances", kids who weren't born by the time he first entered a mental hospital or dropped acid. They probably have no idea what a cassette tape is.

I wanted to know who orchestrated this tour. Who was exploiting Daniel Johnston now? Then I realized it was me.

Well, it wasn't just me, but I was one of many. The caricature or ghost of what was once Daniel Johnston was in Omaha to provide a place for hipsters to be seen. He provided a quirky artist for all of us to claim as our own. He is the topic of this blog post. Now we've all exploited this mess of a man.
The show was memorable but strange. Memorable in that who knows how many more times anyone will be able to see Daniel Johnston live? He is a living legend, the Bob Dylan of the indie world.

The show was strange in its practice and celebration of the exploitation of what Daniel Johnston is and was. Skinny kids who don't know what the man has been through or aging hipsters hanging on to their glory days both clang to something not even the performer was in touch with anymore. Daniel Johnston was a ghost of himself, grayed and misshapen.

Much like his fading voice, Daniel Johnston was a unique piece of American musical lore. The sad part is that he faded, broken and hoarse.

This Moment Indie Rock

I realize that I've been writing too much about jock straps and the politic lately and need to get back to some good old (indie) rock 'n' roll.

I received two new Matador releases in the mail yesterday. One was Columbus, OH heroes Times New Viking with their lo-fi coming out party. The second was Cat Power's latest collection of covers. I liked my review format from December so much that I've adapted it for these two new releases.

Times New Viking - Rip It OffTwo Hundred Forty-Three Words: The title of Times New Viking’s Matador debut, Rip It Off, implies that they have ripped off their sound from somewhere. That somewhere is indie rock lore. The band’s lo-fi aesthetic summons the ghosts of Guided By Voices (pre-Ocasek) and early Pavement. To complete the Matador holy trilogy, the band takes on Yo La Tengo in the aptly titled “Times New Viking vs. Yo La Tengo”. The naiveté of the riot grrrl movement and anything touched from Calvin Johnson to Daniel Johnston are present in the constant, back-and-forth, riotous boy/girl hollers throughout the record.

I used to hope that the band’s Matador signing would expose the band to better sound equipment, but as I listened to the hiss of tape and static due to too much treble, I realized it would just sound as crappy as Lou Barlow did once he stepped out of the bedroom had TNV discovered a real recording studio. The band’s sound is too harsh for lo-fi disciples and too poppy for those of the hardcore set, but it’s place somewhere in between makes it stand out in an era of sleek, iMac-recorded MP3’s.

I know this band is difficult for some, but isn’t that what makes it important? Don’t the best bands insight hatred from some listeners while their fans love them? Isn’t that what punk is all about? Times New Viking is the most punk thing to hit the music world in a long, long time.

The one song that makes it worth $17.95: "Drop-Out"

Pitchfork Says: 8.4

Cat Power - Jukebox
Two Hundred Twenty-Three Words: Chan Marshall (aka Cat Power) has released her second collection of covers to commemorate her rebirth…I guess. Anyway, after reading the Pitchfork review, I expected the record to suck. It actually doesn’t. I just think the music is far beyond the scope of the typical Pitchforker. Usually the blogging hipsters of the Windy City demonstrate a decent amount of music knowledge and historical perspective, but they missed the boat on this one.

The disc opens with “New York, New York” (yeah, the one by Sinatra) in a form that makes the cheesy standard sound downright soulful. From there, Marshall takes the listener through her various musical influences from jazz to country to soul with a little folk mixed in for good measure. The best song is “Song to Bobby”, a tribute to Bob Dylan. The song sounds like that Bob Dylan song he didn’t write.

Speaking of Dylan, the album almost makes a case for Cat Power as being the anti-Dylan. I’m not knocking her songwriting ability. What I mean is that Dylan songs always sound better when sung by someone else. Maybe Chan Marshall sounds better singing other’s songs. Maybe.

My only real complaint is that the record did not include the Cat Power covers featured on cell phone and diamond ads. But I guess you can’t have everything your way.

The one song that makes it worth $17.95: "Song to Bobby"

Pitchfork Says: 5.7

In other indie news...

I am attending some shows in the near future. There's Band of Horses in St. Louis on the 31st. I'm still waiting for Billy to get back to me on whether he wants my extra ticket, but if he doesn't want it...

Then, the other band that sounds like Band of Horses but was doing it a long time before that and will eternally have a place in my heart despite a detour through jam-band-Reggae-purgatory, aka Built to Spill, is coming in mid-March.

Lastly, I'm really excited to announce that we will be traveling to the cornhusker state to see the late, great Daniel Johnston. Of course, I owe R big-time for this one since it's on her birthday, but we're going anyway.

That's all from my corner of the indie universe. Hopefully something else will come up soon. (Stephen Malkmus?)