I went to L.A. for the weekend and got to see Daniel Johnston play at the Henry Fonda, very small venue, it wasn't what I expected. Nevertheless, it has it's potential for radiating some form of sound through the young ears of our generation. I walk in with my cousin Roxy, who introduced me to D.J., only to see that quite a few young folks were wearing the famous "Hi, How are you?" white tee, which I regret not purchasing. We're so excited to hear some good music. Curtains rise, hearts pulsing, audience cheering, drinking, and some band opens up for him, I don't remember the name (go figure), anyways they sucked! Like baaaaad, despite being open to most music and their vast array of art forms, I couldn't find an ounce of enjoyment or satisfaction for their music. I think it was the "Ooooo sha lalas" that did it for me, fucking bullshit. HAHA. And Daniel only played like 3 old songs, the rest were with sung along with that infamous band, "the Ooooo sha lala's", yeah that one!
I think the highlight of the night was when this guy wearing a KORN t-shirt ate shit after being in a obvious drunken state; wobbling side to side, eyes dozed to the maxipad, trying to act all non-shallont. Within this time frame of trying to enjoy the show with inebriated fuck ups getting in your face, the show was over.. Roxy and I looked at each other, "It can't be over!" WHAT!?? "No Devil Town, no Casper the Friendly Ghost, no Walking the cow, no nothing!" We left disappointed, ironically with inspiration that sunk into my skin.
Daniel Johnston suffered from Manic Depression, which is the aftermath for such effortless self expression, via drawings and music. Thats what I love about music and art and all forms of self expression, the pieces are about YOU and no one else. Private and exposed thoughts lingering in the air, evoking minds to reciprocate. Art enables an invitation to our minds, to expose our thoughts in a way for others to understand.."See I had this tiny crack in my head that slowly split open and my brain snoozed out, lyin' on the sidewalk and I didn't even know it. I had lost my mind." -I had lost my mind
It didn't take much for me to appreaciate this effortless, amature, childlike noise that Daniel Johnston mindlessly composed. Walking the cow, man, such a reassuring song that music doesn't have to be "good" but simply a token of self graditude. Making music and drawing was his way of relieving his emotional distress and obsession; enabling the spawn of creativity while simultaneously providing his audience with life enhancing music.
