Recap Daniel Johnston at The Annex

With his head slouched over his yellow T-shirt, the lovable, if troubled Daniel Johnston hurried right past the stage at The Annex on Wednesday night. With a little help from his brother and manager, Dick, Johnston was pointed back to the steps and laughed off his mistake. This incident was among several indications that Johnston had absolutely no idea where he was. But it just may be that Johnston really doesn’t care where he is playing, as long as he’s playing… in America. He complained that “In Europe, you can’t even get ice in your drinks—seriously.”

An iconic rock ‘n’ roll cult hero to some for channeling his mental illness into brilliant, half-realized pop numbers loaded with emotionally raw lyrics, lo-fi production, and his shaky, child-like vocal delivery, Johnston kicked off his set with a couple of particularly depressing numbers that didn’t have the same hopefulness of his older material. Even worse, while lines like “I love all of you, but I hate myself” and “Why do you think I’ll never give up?” left the most of the crowd slack-jawed with heartbreak and concern, some people actually had the nerve to giggle. “I had a dream last night that someone was sentenced to death for trying to commit suicide, it was me,” Johnston joked darkly between songs, leaving some in the crowd unsure of how to react. However, the eerie vibe of the show slowly gave way to brighter spirits as Johnston—who doesn’t carry even a 10th of his songwriting talent into his guitar playing—sloppily strummed his way through “I Live My Broken Dreams,” the tune he performed in 1985 on MTV’s The Cutting Edge show.

Eventually, Johnston joined forces with an excellent guitar player and friend named Brett Hartenbach, who took on guitar duties for “Life In Vain” from 1994’s Fun, a powerful rendition of “Grievances” from his 1980 debut, Songs Of Pain, and a sing-along of The Beatles’ “You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away.” After a quick break, Johnston returned with a full band consisting of opening acts Mark Waldoch (who also plays in Milwaukee band The Celebrated Workingman) and Madison songwriter Marty Finkel with his backing band.

According to Finkel, the impromptu backing band began working together on relatively short notice and only got to rehearse with Johnston for about five minutes before the show. “I’d like to introduce my backing band… wait, what do you guys call yourselves?” Johnston asked in earnest after an admirably tight performance of “My Life Is Starting Over Again.” With the band (and some help from the two songbooks he kept on the music stand in front of him), Johnston nailed underground classics like “Speeding Motorcycle” and got the crowd going batshit with “Casper The Friendly Ghost.” Before the latter, Johnston expressed some bitterness toward the documentary The Devil And Daniel Johnston. “Sorry about the movie—it was like Hard Copy, you know?” Johnston complained. “Everything that ever happened to me was in there. How will I ever be free?”

Johnston shook his microphone wildly for cranked-up set-closer “Rock N Roll EGA” and then explained, “We’re going to pretend now and then I’ll come back for an encore.” He did exactly that, returning to the stage with Hartenbach and quickly asking the crowd, “Which state are we in? It starts with an ‘M,’ right?” After a fan corrected him, he simply laughed and said “Man, I thought we were in Nebraska or something. Anyways, you’ve been a wonderful audience, and I want to leave you with this one Christmas wish.” He then finished off with a touching rendition of “True Love Will Find You In The End” from his album 1990. It’s true that Johnston could seem like a target of exploitation or even a laughingstock to people who don’t sympathize with his artwork or music. To others, he offers a beam of inspiration and a wit that's exclusive to his being, whether he’s singing about a “flat tire down memory lane” or urging the crowd “do yourself a favor and become your own savior.” When the ultimate outsider is at his best—and at times on Wednesday, he was—he is absolutely inimitable and unmatched.