Secret History of Rock. The Most Influential Bands You've Never Heard

by Roni Sarig

  By 1980, they’d amassed a large cassette collection of their tuneless and structureless songs and decided to compile them onto a three-record box set, to be released as their debut album, Half Gentlemen / Not Beasts. Though the collection was a bit much for anyone to listen to all the way through, their mix of untuned guitars with bits of electronics, and bizarre originals with barely recognizable covers, was a stunning document of homemade, completely free music, brimming with the childlike joy of making noisy music and musical noise.

  Ira Kaplan, Yo La Tengo

  Half Gentlemen / Not Beasts is astonishing: the lyrics, the noise. It was, on one hand, so impenetrable, but also so inviting at the same time. That’s just a trip. Great, great record. I’ve been a big fan ever since. In the [Half Japanese documentary] there’s an amazing scene where David Fair explains how easy it is to play guitar as long as you understand the science of it, but they didn’t know any traditional ways of playing. They were just playing with all the exuberance and fearlessness that they had.

  As Half Japanese progressed into the ‘80s, their music became more cogent – thanks to the addition of other musicians and to David and Jad’s growing experience – while retaining all of its unassuming charm. Loud, in 1981, added saxophones, which brought the band even closer to a free jazz no-wave sound, while Horrible delivered adolescent thrills with horror songs like Rosemary’s Baby and Thing with a Hook. Two albums in 1984, the mostly David-penned Our Solar System and the mostly Jad-penned Sing No Evil, proved Half Japanese was a seemingly endless well of inspiration, with no loss for material.

  Charmed Life, with smooth and catchy songs like Red Dress and One Million Kisses, was to be Half Japanese’s breakthrough, but label problems kept the record unreleased for years (it finally came out in 1988). Surrounding themselves with capable sidemen such as Don Fleming (later of Gumball), by the mid-‘80s the Fairs had evolved Half Japanese from radical naturalists into a reasonably competent garage group. In 1987, David fulfilled a long-standing intention to quit the group when he turned 35, and retired from Half Japanese (he now works as a librarian on a bookmobile in rural Maryland). With Jad the sole voice in the band, and Bongwater’s Kramer producing, Half Japanese made the outrageous Music to Strip by, with clever, often hilarious songs such as My Sordid Past, Sex at Your Parents House, and U.S. Teens Are Spoiled Bums.

  Steve Malkmus, Pavement:

  They’re just these cacophonous things. Hearing this guy that couldn’t really sing or play his instrument exactly, and just didn’t give a fuck, was inspirational to me. It was just noisy and bratty, and made us think that we could make a record too.

  To keep up with his prodigious songwriting, Jad also released solo records. Beginning with The Zombies of Mora-Tau EP in 1980, his solo material ranged from confessional (1982’s Everybody Knew But Me) to experimental (1988’s Best Wishes, featuring 42 short instrumentals, titled either “O.K.” or “A.O.K.”). For 1992’s I Like It When You Smile, Jad’s guests included members of Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., and Yo La Tengo. Over the years, Jad has also collaborated on record with fellow eccentric Daniel Johnston, avant-garde composer John Zorn, former Velvet Underground drummer Moe Tucker, the band Mosquito (featuring Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley), and countless others. And between gigs and recording sessions, Jad has worked as a teacher in a daycare center and in a factory, making things he was never able to identify.

  In the ‘90s, Jad has continued Half Japanese with an ever-changing cast of backup musicians and a steady stream of releases, while David returned to music with an album by his ‘50s-style band, Coo Coo Rocking Time. In addition, Half Japanese was the subject of a 1994 documentary, titled The Band That Would Be King, and Jad has been the focus of two musical tributes, in songs by Pee Shy and the Spinanes.

  In 1996, David and Jad reunited for the touching Best Friends record, and followed in early ‘98 with the playful Monster Songs, which features one horror rocker for each letter of the alphabet (Abominable Snowman to Zombie). Twenty years after he began playing, Jad still doesn’t know a single guitar chord. Perhaps their still-intact musical innocence is what has allowed the Fair brothers, now in their forties, to retain their youthful exuberance as well.

  DISCOGRAPHY

  Calling All Girls EP (50 Skidillion Watts, 1977); a nine-song single without any regard for convention.

  Half Gentlemen / Not Beasts (Armageddon, 1980; TEC Tones, 1993); the triple-album debut, a classic document of unschooled noise rock.

  Loud (Armageddon, 1981); still rough, but slightly more cohesive with four other band members joining the Fair brothers.

  Horrible EP (Press, 1982); a collection of gruesome and twisted horror songs.

  Our Solar System (Iridescence, 1984); an album heavy on David’s material.

  Sing No Evil (Iridescence, 1984); an album heavy on Jad’s material.

  (w/ Velvet Monkeys) Big Big Sun (K [cassette], 1986).

  Music to Strip by (50 Skidillion Watts, 1987); the first HJ record without David, Jad holds the fort with smart and funny tabloid-obsessed lyrics.

  Charmed Life (50 Skidillion Watts, 1988); their best-known and most accessible record, released a few years after it was made.

  The Band That Would Be King (50 Skidillion Watts, 1989); a record featuring saxophonist / composer John Zorn and guitarist Fred Frith.

  We Are They Who Ache with Amorous Love (TEC Tones, 1990).

  Fire in the Sky (Safe House, 1993); a good recent collection, featuring the Velvet Underground’s Moe Tucker.

  Boo! Live in Europe (TEC Tones, 1993).

  Greatest Hits (Safe House, 1995); a terrific collection of material spanning the group’s entire career.

  Hot (Safe House, 1995).

  Bone Head (Alternative Tentacles, 1997).

  Heaven Sent (Trance Syndicate, 1997).

  DANIEL JOHNSTON

  Daniel Johnston [in the Austin American-Statesman, 9/24/92]:

  I knew that I was an artist. I just didn’t know it would be music. If I didn’t do it, I’d be in pretty sorry shape, ‘cause my imagination gets carried away.

  Having been blessed with the gift of crafting great songs, Daniel Johnston could have been a huge success as a songwriter or musician. But his curse – a severe bipolar disorder that has kept Johnston in and out of institutions for decades – has to a large degree marginalized his music. Ironically, the condition that has kept him suffering and made him obscure is the very thing that motivates him to continue writing songs. As someone whose sanity literally depends on the music he makes, Daniel Johnston’s work – most of it only available on low-fi homemade cassettes – is an inspiring example of passion and honesty for musicians to emulate.

  And they do: His songs have been covered by Pearl Jam, the Dead Milkmen, Built to Spill, Wilco, and P (which features Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers and actor Johnny Depp). Sonic Youth and Yo La Tengo have recorded with Daniel, while Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain mentions him in the liner notes to the album Incesticide. Though Johnston’s eccentricities have no doubt contributed to the cult around him, much of his music stands on its own. To focus solely on his mental instability is to do disservice to Daniel’s underappreciated talents.

  Johnston grew up in West Virginia in a strict fundamentalist Christian family that viewed rock and roll as the devil’s music. Regardless, Daniel idolized the pop stars he heard as a kid in the late ‘60s and ‘70s – Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and in particular, the Beatles. Though music had been an important refuge for him since his first bouts with severe depression in junior high, it wasn’t until college in 1980 – in an attempt to impress a female classmate – that he began writing songs. When she responded favorably, Daniel made songwriting (and the girl) an obsession.

  From the start, Johnston documented his music. Recording himself on a simple hand-held tape recorder, he sang in a high quivery voice while he accompanied himself, on piano, chord organ, toy guitar, or any other instrument at his disposal. In the mid-‘80s, he moved to eastern Texa
s to live with siblings, and after some time spent working as a carny, Daniel wound up in Austin. Inside his tiny apartment Johnston spent time expressing himself and exorcising the demons of mental illness that continued to haunt him. Over the years, he’d write and record hundreds of songs and create at least as many drawings. On the streets of Austin, or through his job at a local McDonald’s, Daniel would pass out tapes and pictures to anyone who’d take them.

  King Coffey, Butthole Surfers:

  He was definitely an eccentric, but a good eccentric, a great Texas pioneer. Daniel Johnston’s songs stick with you, they’re so unique and incredibly moving. There’s a sense of drama and sadness, wonder and humor, in his songs. Everyone in Austin had these homemade Daniel Johnston tapes. He was controversial in Austin. You either thought he was a genius or a joke. I’m with the camp that thinks he’s an amazing songwriter.

  Johnston’s early tapes, with titles like Songs of Pain, Don’t Be Scared, and More Songs of Pain, were disarmingly intimate. With sound quality ranging from decent to awful, his tapes bundled together songs – often great, but not always – with snippets of phone calls, family fights, toilet flushes, TV shows, and anything else that seemed appropriate. The songs ranged from confessions of anguish (Going Down) to hopeful advice (Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Your Grievances) and from hilarious character studies (Pothead, Harley Man) to sincere tributes (The Beatles). Though amateurish and childlike, they undeniably contained the seeds of really good pop tunes. Where Johnston could be unselfconsciously enthusiastic, he was also a showman with a great knack for songcraft.

  Among those in Austin who recognized Johnson’s unrefined talent was film director Richard Linklater, who included Daniel’s music in films such as the Austin-based Slacker. At gigs, local bands like Glass Eye (featuring Kathy McCarty, who’d later record a tribute album to Daniel) invited him to perform his songs between their sets. Whether the audience was laughing at him or cheering him on, Johnston reveled in the attention. His ultimate dream, to be a famous rock star, seemed to be coming true. But by 1986, Daniel had taken to using LSD, and it was destroying his already fragile psyche. He eventually became delusional and suffered a mental breakdown that sent him home to West Virginia for recovery.

  Chris Cornell, Soundgarden:

  There’s so much humor and pain all in the same tine, it’s pretty devastating and pretty amazing. This is somebody making music just because he wants to or because he has to. That itself is such a big influence to somebody in my situation, where everything has to balance in the books at the end of the year, that kind of crap. To stop and think that this guy made a record on his boom box that’s one of my all-time favorites. To remember that what matters is the process, and not if anyone buys it or hears it.

  Meanwhile, Johnston’s reputation continued to grow and in 1988 indie label Homestead began professionally releasing the best of Daniel’s tapes, 1983’s Hi, How Are You and Yip / Jump Music. Safely on medication, and with a newfound religious zeal in his music, Johnston recorded his first studio albums with producer Kramer (released on his Shimmy Disc label). The album, 1990, featured an appearance by Steve Shelley and Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth. But, again, Johnston fell apart just at the point he was nearing a breakthrough. Having stopped taking medication to curb his manic depression, Johnston started to believe he was on a mission of world salvation; he became combative with his label and incoherent in concert. Soon, he was back in West Virginia.

  Lou Barlow, Sebadoh:

  [Barlow’s first band] Dinosaur did a tour with Sonic Youth, and I heard Kim [Gordon of Sonic Youth] playing a Daniel Johnston tape. I immediately recognized the way he recorded it because I’d been doing the same thing. But I was totally floored because his songs were really developed in a way that I hadn’t developed my own. He was obviously completely enamored with the Beatles, and songwriting. He was making his own Billboard Top 300 at home, making his own legacy to keep himself entertained or keep himself sane. He made the definitive hand-held tape recordings, so hearing Daniel made me want to concentrate on really crafting my four-track recordings.

  After more time spent in a psychiatric hospital, Daniel amazingly bounced back and signed a contract with a major label, Atlantic Records. Returning to Austin, he recorded 1994’s Fun. Paul Leary of the Butthole Surfers produced and other local musicians, including King Coffey and members of Lyle Lovett’s band, appeared as well. But Daniel was too fragile to be a pop star. Unable to promote the record through the normal routes of promotional tours and interviews, Atlantic could not convert Johnston’s cult status into anything like mainstream success.

  Though there has been some talk of a second Atlantic album, prospects seem dim. However, his reputation as a visual artist, in the world of folk and outsider art, has grown, and his drawings have been known to sell for hundreds of dollars.

  DISCOGRAPHY

  Songs of Pain [cassette] (Stress, 1980-81); the best of the early recordings that are still available only on cassette.

  Don’t Be Scared [cassette] (Stress, July 1982).

  The What of Whom [cassette] (Stress, August 1982).

  More Songs of Pain [cassette] (Stress, 1982-83).

  Yip / Jump Music (Stress, Summer 1983; Homestead, 1989); the best-known early release, featuring Daniel on chord organ and favorites like Casper the Friendly Ghost.

  Hi, How Are You (Stress, September 1983; Homestead, 1988); the first nationally available release, featuring Walking the Cow, a signature song.

  The Lost Recordings [cassette] (Stress, 1983).

  The Lost Recordings II [cassette] (Stress, 1983).

  Retired Boxer [cassette] (Stress, December 1984).

  Respect [cassette] (Stress, January 1985).

  Continued Story (Stress, December 1985; Homestead, 1992).

  (w/ Jad Fair) Jad Fair and Daniel Johnston (50 Skadillion Watts, 1989); a spotty collaboration with the Half Japanese leader.

  Live at SXSW [cassette] (Stress, March 14,1990).

  1990 (Shimmy-Disc, 1990); the first studio recordings, featuring members of Sonic Youth giving minimal accompaniment.

  Artistic Vices (Shimmy-Disc, 1992); recorded in West Virginia with a full band.

  Fun (Atlantic, 1994); Daniel’s only major label effort is an uncharacteristically clean recording, but doesn’t contain his best material.

  TRIBUTE: K. McCarty, Dead Dog’s Eyeball (Bar / None, 1994); an excellent collection of Johnston’s songs, fleshed out by a sympathetic performer.

  Note: The Stress releases are all homemade cassettes, unavailable in stores; they can be ordered directly from Stress, 4716 Depew, Austin, TX 78751.

  JONATHAN RICHMAN

  THE MODERN LOVERS

  Jeff Tweedy, Wilco:

  The honesty and sincerity of what he’s doing is undeniable. He’s really a genius. The main thing you get from Jonathan Richman is to be loose, be yourself. It’s really enjoyable to watch someone who doesn’t have any problem with being on stage. He’s totally comfortable and having a great time, as opposed to someone who’s staring at the floor and obviously has some major hang-ups about people looking at them.

  Though he hasn’t come close to any mainstream commercial success in his nearly 30 years as a songwriter and performer, Jonathan Richman can claim to have profoundly influenced rock music – not once but twice. With early ‘70s songs like I’m Straight, Pablo Picasso, and Roadrunner, Richman created a prototype for the cynical, hippie-hating, phony-exposing young punk rocker that would emerge half a decade later.

  Dean Wareham, Luna:

  That History of Rock and Roll series on PBS, the punk episode started with Jonathan Richman, which I thought was very appropriate. Because before any of it happened, here was this guy with short hair singing about being straight. Then the Sex Pistols covered Roadrunner. That first Modern Lovers record is one of the ten best records ever made.

  Soon, though, Richman outgrew his teen angst and embraced innocence – not because he couldn’t do anything else, like th
e Shaggs, but by conscious choice. Writing silly songs that bring out the kid in us, and love songs that connect in very simple and direct ways, Richman created a unique style that shows up in the music of everyone from the Violent Femmes and Talking Heads to They Might Be Giants and Beck. Well-crafted and without a trace of irony, his songs celebrate the things (‘50s pop, suburban life, romance) that so many musicians have parodied or mocked.

  By the time Jonathan Richman released his first album in 1976, he’d already left behind a career’s worth of great music that would secure his place as a key link between late-‘60s American garage rock and the late-‘70s British punk explosion. In 1970, the 18-year-old Velvet Underground fanatic moved back home to Boston from a year in New York and formed his first band, the Modern Lovers. Within a year, the band – which featured future members of the Talking Heads Jerry Harrison) and Cars (David Robinson) – were being courted by major record companies. In 1972 they recorded two sets of demos, one with former Velvet John Cole producing. By then, though, the group was on the verge of splitting up.

  David Byrne:

  Obviously they were an influence, we hired one of them. They were doing really spare, bare-bones stuff, that spoke in a rock vocabulary but was very honest.

  As it turned out, the original Modern Lovers never completed a record and the ‘72 recordings demos remain the band’s only studio documents. When the recordings were finally released four years later, it was as if they’d fallen into a time warp: the youthful energy and dark humor of Velvets-influenced songs like Hospital and Old World turned up in England to inspire a new generation.