The Moondog story began in Kansas in 1916 with the birth of Louis Thomas Hardin. A love for music was sparked by the Native American dance ceremonies his father took him to as a child. His feeling for percussion found its initial expression in tapping out rhythms on pieces of cardboard aged five. The process of using whatever was to hand to make sound started early.
Throughout his life, Moondog would only ever dance to the beat of his own drum.
His sensory world imploded at 16 when he was blinded in a farming accident. Far from ending his musical adventures, it only served to deepen his journey into sound. After learning the principles of music in several schools for the blind across the US, he taught himself the skills of ear training and composition.
By the time this album was recorded for Columbia in 1969, he had spent two decades using the streets of Manhattan as his studio and stage. He stood statuesque on corners, helmeted and suited in ancient Nordic garb, playing music on instruments of his own invention. He ruled the sidewalks of 6th Avenue like royalty.
His music was as distinctive as his veneer, mixing avant-garde jazz and classical sounds with the ambient noise of his environment. Exotic flavours peppered the mix, with echoes of the formative Native American rhythms a recurring theme. There’s a childlike imagination at play. Innocence and magical thinking are the only fuel for dreams this vivid.
This 1969 LP is the first of a dynamic set with producer James William Guerico. The partnership opened up new horizons for both. The settings they conjured together are uniquely beautiful. It’s fantastically visual music from an unsighted visionary and his guide. The effect here is dazzling. For one who couldn’t see, there was so much light in his head.
