Boston's Alternative Source!
     
Feedback


[Live & On Record]

DANIEL JOHNSTON
FRAGILE FOLK HERO

Solemnity is a relatively rare commodity in the realm of beer-saturated rock clubs. But when Daniel Johnston took the stage at T.T. the Bear’s Place last Friday night, the capacity crowd stood hushed, seemingly afraid they might spook the 40-year-old Texan, whose history of psychological problems has become the stuff of indie legend.

The T.T.’s show was part of the first extensive tour Johnston has undertaken. He’d come in support of Rejected Unknown (Gammon), his first release in seven years. And he brought little more than an acoustic guitar, a music stand, and the fabled notebook that contains his lyrics and artwork. In 1998, he canceled a CMJ showcase at the Knitting Factory when the notebook got misplaced.

Johnston delivered his naive tales of love with steadfast determination. The melodies were simple, but it’s the lyrics that drew in the crowd: he sings of love unrequited, love lost, delving into endless varieties of romantic woe. He seems acutely aware that his mental condition has robbed him of the ability to experience "normal" romance, has made it difficult for him to maintain relationships — and that’s a big part of what makes his lyrics so devastating. "Crazy Love" captured the yearning that permeates his best material — with his high, trembling voice caught somewhere between a croak and a whisper, he proclaimed, "I love her tender touch, and everything about her means so much."

The audience remained riveted by Johnston’s heart-wrenching musings despite his reluctance to diverge from his planned set of relative obscurities. When people began to feel comfortable enough to address the singer, he responded in a nervous yet polite manner. A request was met with the direct response "Please, ma’am, I only have a couple more songs."

After performing just eight numbers in 30 minutes, he wished the assembled crowd a "Merry Christmas" and announced that his next song would be his last. Then he rushed into one of the evening’s more familiar numbers, "Casper," a lament for the long-lost friendly ghost of that name. By that point it was clear that for Johnston performing nine songs in a half-hour is as taxing as a three-hour marathon is for Bruce Springsteen. When he finished, he quickly gathered his guitar, music stand, and notebook and headed straight for the safety of the dressing room.

BY TOM KIELTY

Issue Date: December 6 - 13, 2001

Back to the Music table of contents.