The first time I saw Daniel Johnston play, I wasn’t properly briefed on the phenomenon. I only knew everyone in the NYC antifolk scene worshipped this legendary songwriter from Austin. So when an old, obese guy took the stage in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt, singing lyrics like, “the rabbit ate the chocolate rabbit,” I kind of looked around the room to see if this was for real. But everyone gazed at him with that glassy-eyed stare of the faithful. Major Matt Mason had opened; he teared up about how, without Daniel Johnston, he never would’ve started writing songs. Kimya Dawson had played too and sat next to me, an old convert. I felt like I was being pranked. He lisped and spat on the mic. His gut-stringed guitar sat on his tummy, facing the ceiling. “Running water, what are you running from?” he sang, “It always seems like you’re on the run.”

Having seen his public access television show, I was better prepared to appreciate David Liebe Hart at Echo Curio last night. With Adam Papagan at his side playing guitar and keyboards, David sat with a Bluetooth earpiece in one ear and sang songs. Occasionally with a puppet on one hand, and occasionally in funny puppet voices, though they didn’t necessarily coincide. In fact, after the first few songs, David didn’t use the puppet anymore, but it hung out through several more songs. Just peepin’ the audience.

David showcased a mix of love songs and hymns of praise to aliens, all littered with details of his life and career. His lyrics are stuffed with micro-specific romantic laments, right down to their names and the Christian Science branch churches where he met them. Or how Gary Marshall should’ve tapped him for a television show. Or how the Omegans, a race of aliens, gave us great technology and Celtic culture. “The Omegans are from star Calladan,” David sang, “The Omegans are from the Scottish-Irish clan.” (David said the Scottish-Irish are descended from the Omegans, though he was African-American, like Barack Obama.)

Between the lost loves and aliens and puppets and religiosity, he’s developed something like a David Liebe Hart hagiography. And his recent appearances on the Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job! have won him a score of young converts, which might put him in a class of songwriter savants with Daniel Johnston and Wesley Willis. Though unlike them, David doesn’t seem tortured by his fate or history. Rather, his innocence and sincerity lets him write a song like “All My Friends Love Asian Girls.” It’s not the Beach Boys, but somehow it’s almost sweet:

David Liebe Hart and Adam Papagan (MySpace) David Liebe Hart (CD Baby) Public Access Hollywood (documentary clip) Buzzgrinder Interview

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