He sings like a child who has smoked since the womb, and stands before us with the assuredness of that same child in the principle’s office after a playground fight.

As I sit in the burned out remnants of the majestic Turner Ballroom, with its naked walls and stripped ceilings, I can’t imagine a more appropriate place to witness the austere beauty and painful honesty of Daniel Johnston’s music.

I’m sitting at a small table with a close friend, drinking Pabst tall boys and scribbling notes by the light of a candle. Surrounding me are artist types, rebel types, grunge types and freak types, all transfixed by the rapturous presence of a scruffy, toothless and awkward little man strumming harsh chords on a tiny guitar.

He sings like a child who has smoked since the womb, and stands before us with the assuredness of that same child in the principle’s office after a playground fight. He rocks from side to side and stares at his lyrics.

We can see the focus in his eyes. We care because he means it, and in this world of manufactured pop and bands assembled by reality television programs, there is nothing we need more than original thoughts and an earnest delivery.

Daniel Johnston is certainly not a household name, but to the lucky few who have heard his music, he is often known as that crazy guy from Texas who sings songs about comic book characters, the devil and the kind of unrequited love that haunts your days and keeps you from sleep at night. He is a 47 year-old manic-depressive suffering from autism and diabetes, and currently lives across the street from his parents in Waller, Texas.

Johnston began writing music as a child, and started gaining a cult following in Austin, Texas during the ‘80s. An MTV special about the Austin music scene introduced him to a larger audience, and with the help of endorsements from musicians like Sonic Youth, Beck and Kurt Cobain, he has continued to grow in popularity in the underground scene across the country.

You would never guess by looking at him that he has any sense of his popularity or legendary status in many outsider circles. He seems quite nervous on stage, and when he sets down the guitar to let his old friend Brett Hartenbach accompany him, you can see his balled fists shake by his side.

Everyone knows the feeling of anxiety that comes with performing in front of an audience, but it is rare to see a musician of Johnston’s caliber seem so affected by it. It is troubling to watch, but it also makes him seem so human, and the vulnerability works with his songs perfectly.

During his short, hour long set we are treated to some of his most touching songs, including “Speeding Motorcycle”, “Casper the Friendly Ghost”, the Beatles “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” and the beautiful encore “True Love Will Find You in the End.”

On a couple different occasions I could not help but laugh out loud at the surprising wit of his lyrics and stage banter. At one point he said it was great to be here and asked the crowd, “What city is this again?” I don’t know of another performer who could ask that seriously and get away with it like Daniel Johnston can.

All the crowd can do is scream “MILWAUKEE!” and laugh along with him. After all, for someone like him it doesn’t really matter where he is, as long as he can share his words and music with people who genuinely appreciate him. And we do. Oh, how we do.

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