Outsider Music

Frank Zappa declared the Shaggs — three hapless sisters from New Hampshire — to be better than the Beatles. Well…But the trio's 1969 "Philosophy of the World" could be the Outsiderland national anthem, manifesting the credo of not letting a lack of talent stifle creative impulses. But there's plenty of legit talent here: Daniel Johnston (subject of the documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston) is a real artist fractured by mental illness. Ditto for Pink Floyd founder Syd Barrett. And Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence's distinctive gospel finger-picking influenced Ry Cooder.

Blind musician/singer Moondog (Louis Hardin) was known to perform on Manhattan street corners in full Viking regalia. But he also was an accomplished, if eccentric, composer, worthy of the company of Harry Partch, a true American treasure who invented his own instruments and music theory for some astounding work. Nashville basement genius R. Stevie Moore brings the same discipline and knowledge to his rock-pop constructions. And don't write off Tiny Tim — beneath the freak-show appearance and manner was a scholar of classic songs.

Some of the most intriguing outsider music has a "found art" quality — lost ephemera, private recordings, novelty oddities…the sound of Mark Kennis' "Heart of the Heartland" and other cuts on the Songs In the Key of Z compilations. And you gotta love the Space Lady's burbling-synth version of the Electric Prunes' "I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night)." Good and bad are matters of taste, but to dismiss these as jokes would call for former 13th Floor Elevator front man Roky Erickson to shout a chorus of "Don't Slander Me."

No doubt about it: outsiders are in. Whether it's a response to an overload of slick music "product" or a growing rush to be too hip, an increasing number of music fans have, in recent years, embraced a wide range of oddballs and left-fielders working not just out of the mainstream, but on different planets. Some are pure camp (Shooby "The Human Horn" Taylor), others damaged savants given cult adoration (Syd Barrett, Daniel Johnston, Wesley Willis) and others still legitimate visionary artists (Moondog, Harry Partch, Billy Childish). The results range from primitive art — the musical equivalent of Grandma Moses or Howard Finster in the visual world — to audio voyeurism into disturbed minds to plain ol' wackiness. In any case, it's rarely less than fascinating for those who dare to step outside.