The Wisdom Of Daniel Johnston

The title of this post is probably a touch misleading, but the remarkable songs of Daniel Johnston are the thread that links two utterly superb gigs from the last two weeks.

First up was Jason Pierce of Spiritualized, performing in his J Spaceman guise at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall. It's a bit worrying when you have to describe a nine piece band as 'stripped down', but with just string quartet, keyboards and small gospel chorus as backing, this was a world away from the extravagant, grandiose sound of 'Let It Come Down', and equally far removed from the crass garage rock of the disappointing parts of the 'Amazing Grace' album. After a brush with life-threatening illness last year, there's every indication that this is a rejuvenated Pierce, ready to recapture some of the transcendent glory of Spiritualized's best work.

First, however, a quick word about the support act, Lupen Crook. Exactly how seriously do you have to take yourself to get up on one of London's major concert hall stages to perform this utter tosh? The first gripe is that he has a lovely twelve string acoustic guitar but simply proceeds to strum it aggressively and disrespectfully, ensuring that the overall sound is decidedly unmusical. Second gripe comes in the form of the lyrics. No doubt Crook is aiming for some Jonathan Swift-esque satirical bite here (I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, because if many of these songs were taken at face value they'd simply be offensive). He is outrageously savage ('You f*cking Jew, you won't get anything from me, I'm not paying'), and tediously whiny ('where are my f*cking keys/I haven't had sex in weeks' - poor lamb). There are no songs without some unnecessary expletive, and they all have pretty much nothing of value to impart. A large part of the audience seemed as uncomfortable as I was, not knowing whether to laugh or die with embarrassment. Utterly rubbish.

Lucky then that Pierce was on superb form. In this acoustic setting, he seemed more relaxed than usual, even addressing the audience with a couple of words of thanks. The less elaborate arrangements also allowed him to focus on some rarely performed Spiritualized songs. In 1998, at the Royal Albert Hall, my voice was forever captured for posterity at the end of Spiritualized's justly legendary gig, shouting for 'Cool Waves' with all the strength in my lungs. Eight years later, Pierce finally granted me my request, with a sensitive and affecting performance. We also get B Sides ('Going Down Slow') and some Spacemen 3 classics ('All Of My Tears', 'Amen', 'Walking with Jesus'). There's also plenty to indicate that 'Let It Come Down' is an album where the highlights outweight the lows, with fantastic versions of 'The Straight and The Narrow', 'Stop Your Crying' and 'Lord Can You Hear Me'. There's also a clever medley of 'Anything More' into 'Ladies and Gentlemen...' that has led me to completely reassess the former. Pierce also includes the Elvis section in the latter that had to be removed from the album version for legal reasons. It might even be time to revisit 'Amazing Grace', given how rich 'Lay It Down Slow', 'Hold On' and 'Lord Let It Rain On Me' sound.

The two or three new songs are not a retrenchment to the minimal, drone based atmospherics of early works, as I suspected they might be, but rather continue the trend towards lush, Bacharach-style melodies. They're not as lyrically clunky as some as the worst of the last two albums, so their success seems likely if Pierce doesn't over-egg the pudding with the production of the new album, due in early 2007. The real highlights came with three Daniel Johnston covers - the bizarre 'Devil Town', in which the singer casts himself as a vampire, the touching 'True Love Will Find You In The End' and the mysterious lament of 'Funeral Home'. There is wisdom in these unusally skeletal, emotionally simplistic songs, and I need to seek out some more of Johnston's work (although I suspect he may be a singer best approached through the more nuanced interpretations of others). The encore is a predictable but welcome rendition of 'Oh Happy Day'. The only downside is really that this gig reveals Pierce's limitations as a guitarist, as well as the harmonic simplicity of his back catalogue. Many of the songs remain locked in the same key (perhaps due to Pierce's limited vocal range) and the relentless chordal strumming limits the cumulative impact of this performance. Still, minimalism has always been Pierce's stock in trade - an extra lead guitarist, or allowing Doggen Foster to be more adventurous on the Fender Rhodes (still one of the loveliest sounding instruments in the world) would have added welcome texture.

This week, it was the turn of Neko Case and M Ward, in a joint-header at London's Koko venue. Luckily, the sound problems that marred The Pipettes and Hot Puppies gig there a few weeks back seem to have been dealt with, and this show was every bit as superb as it had promised to be. Without his backing band this time, Ward turned in a solo set full of twists and turns, with lovingly recreated selections from the 'Post War' album sitting next to some unfamiliar material, and the obligatory Daniel Johnston cover. I particularly relished the song about O'Brien and his guitar with twelve-year old strings, one of a handful of numbers that demonstrate Ward's warmth and humour as much as his distinctive feel for blues and the American folk tradition. He's a superb guitar player, and even manages to make effective use of loops and effects on this occasion. It helps that he's also an unconventional performer, bent in what looks like terribly uncomfortable posture and lurching unpredictably between two microphones. It's thrilling to watch.

Neko Case and her wonderful backing band are nothing short of a revelation. The gig has also reminded me that I've completely failed to mention anything about her 'Fox Confessor Brings The Flood' album here, despite the fact I first received a copy back in February! It's a superb work which sees Case refashioning a traditional country sound in her own distinctive way, whilst also crafting a collection of songs that are mysterious, oblique and thoroughly compelling. If anything, the sound is richer and fuller in a concert hall than it is on record, and that album's finest songs really come to life here. Case's voice is an instrument of some power and dexterity, and she's one of the few singers who can really revel in reverb, effortlessly elegant throughout. Her lyrics are filled with unusual allusions and a poetic sensibility, frequently veering off at unexpected tangents. Her forceful but measured delivery accentuates the distinctive nature of the material. The band play with genuine sensitivity and class, with some lovely banjo and pedal steel flourishes and a drummer with the resourcefulness to play quietly! Case is also in fine humour, worrying about her heels and bemoaning the fact that they missed Halloween here by a day, and doing impressions of lines from The Birds between songs. Highlights for me included a stormy 'Deep Red Bells', a faithfully rendered 'Star Witness', a rather touching take on Bob Dylan's 'Buckets Of Rain' (a song easily forgotten as it seems like the least significant song on 'Blood On The Tracks, but Case imbues it with new feeling), and an energising version of 'Hold On Hold On' to round off proceedings. For the encore, Ward joins the band for a rousing version of yet another Daniel Johnston song ('To Go Home'). Despite both sets being quite short (did the venue need to open the doors at 7pm and keep us waiting until 8.45?), the resounding feeling is one of enlightenment and satisfaction.

Turning The Clocks Back

Another brief rant: There has been some really bizarre journalism regarding the imminent release of an Oasis 'greatest hits' compilation. Some of it has been simple revisionism, ignoring the fact that 'Be Here Now' received the most universal acclaim of all the Oasis albums on release, and became the fastest selling British album of all time. However, some of the conjectures in these reviews are simply false. In Uncut magazine, John Robinson claims that 'during the 18 months they burned brightest - this band effortlessly outshone everything and everyone around them'. Now, I'll confess that I still have a mildly irrational fondness for 'Definitely Maybe' and the better parts of '(What's The Story) Morning Glory?', and when the band released 'Be Here Now' on my GCSE results day I fell for the marketing trick hook, line and sinker, but this statement is surely only true in retrospect. Some of us can remember, at the very least, the intensity of the PR-aided battle with Blur, or the fact that a number of other British bands (e.g. Pulp, The Boo Radleys, Supergrass, Teenage Fanclub) made superior records that, whilst selling less, gathered similar critical plaudits and have perhaps even endured just as well. In 1995, for better or for worse, many were equally interested in the ill-feted Stone Roses comeback.

Even more absurd is Pat Gilbert's argument in Mojo that Noel Gallagher is an underrated lyricist, blessed with an ability to capture simple emotion, and a gift with spiritual, perhaps even Biblical imagery. Excuse me while I choke on my chicken - but if Oasis' songs have any lyrical appeal at all, it's largely due to the nonsense rhyme schemes. Just because Noel captured a zeitgeist with phrases like 'make me shiiiiiiine', doesn't mean he knows anything about light and darkness. Indeed, a light can shine - but a person cannot.

The 'Stop The Clocks' compilation understandably favours the earlier material, but also opts for B sides and album tracks over singles. The gravity of the group's decline is conveniently glossed over - and in ignoring 'Be Here Now' completely, they miss out two of their best songs, 'D'You Know What I Mean?' (perhaps their only single to really pay attention to sonic detail) and 'Stand By Me' (to my mind a superior anthemic ballad to any of the Morning Glory staples).

Somewhat Premature

Why, for a second year in a row, have Uncut magazine published their albums of the year list in the first week of November? It's complete madness, and it's difficult to tell how many gems have been ignored through this ridiculously early polling. Albums that rely largely on word of mouth over a period of months have inevitably been cruelly ignored. It also wouldn't exactly take a genius to predict top placing for Bob Dylan's 'Modern Times' here.

To be fair, there are some interesting and worthy selections this year - Scritti Politti at 2, Comets On Fire an unlikely 3, Hot Chip at 8, Ali Farka Toure at 17, Burial at 20, Scott Walker at 25, TV On The Radio at 26, Neko Case at 30, Donald Fagen at 42, Band Of Horses at 46.

There are some blatantly absurd selections too though - Neil Young's cringe-inducing and hamfisted take on the 'protest' album 'Living With War' is at 5 (a prime example of a great artist being indulged - has Neil Young made a decent record in the last ten years?), Scissor Sisters at 36 (do they need the publicity?), Lily Allen at 38, the horrendous Kasabian at 44, The Walkmen's hugely disappointing Dylan impressions at 45, the ever-pompous Muse at 48,Belle and Sebastian's cloying radio 2-lite at 49.

The Belle and Sebastian inclusion is interesting, as it represents virtually the sole entry for conventional indie-pop in this list - there's no room for either of Stephin Merritt's fine albums, the excellent Camera Obscura record or The Hidden Cameras.

The rest of the omissions are too numerous to list - and given that I'm holding back my own end of year lists until Christmas, I don't want to give too much away at this stage!

In a top 50, there's never enough breadth and depth of coverage - at least Mojo publish some specialist charts in their end of year review, although it's always a shame that many of the year's best records are included in these charts and omitted from the main round-up. This list inevitably ignores jazz and soul, but the lack of coverage for electronic music and hip hop is also hugely frustrating.