Around five years ago I went through a phase of interest in “Outsider Music:” music composed and performed by folks who know exactly what they’re doing, even if no one else does.
This is music that is not purposefully strange, such as the kind of thing Frank Zappa might do, but music that is pure in its difference because the source isn’t consciously attempting to be odd. (Irwin Chusid’s “Songs In The Key Of Z” book and accompanying cd’s are a wonderful intro to the concept)
Daniel Johnston is one of the more famous purveyors of this “outsider music,” most of his songs containing an accessible pop strain that distracts you from his psychosis and often somewhat broken, lo-fi delivery.
Read the rest of this page »
