In one of those serendipitous moments, last month I mentioned to Mrs. Life in the Vinyl Lane that I was interested in checking out the music of Moondog and lo and behold a few days later while digging at Cheapo Records in Minneapolis I came across a used copy of the 2017 re-release of his self-titled 1969 album. As icing on the Moondog cake, at another shop on the same trip I found a used copy of Robert Scotto’s 2013 biography of the artist, Moondog: The Viking of 6th Avenue, Revised Edition. I’ve been holding off on listening to the record until I read the book, and now that I’m finished it’s time to drop the needle.
Born Louis Hardin in 1916 and living a somewhat unconventional life in a family headed by an itinerant minister father who always seemed to be working on a hustle, Moondog was permanently blinded when as a 16-year-old he was probing a found object that turned out to be a dynamite blasting cap which subsequently blew up in his face. Despite his blindness Moondog lived a long life as a musician, usually living in poor conditions and earning his money by begging and selling items on the streets. However, he always attracted attention, both for his imposing figure (he was taller than average, wore clothes he made himself, and often sported a horned viking helmet) and for his musical talent. Various benefactors helped him over the years to release music an arrange for live performances, and his popularity grew after he moved to Germany in 1974, though never translating to much in the way of financial security.
Early Moondog records command significant prices and are quite rare. Fortunately for us many of his works have been re-released over the years, including the 2017 re-issue of his 1969 record on Columbia Masterworks simply entitled Moondog. I’ve seen Moondog’s music as described as both classical and jazz (among other things), and this album certainly leans in the classical direction with its orchestral arrangement and instrumentation. The direction varies, with tracks like “Stamping Ground” performed as a bombastic march while “Symphonique #3 (Ode To Venus)” is sensual, its lead violin bouncing like a butterfly over a rich but still sparse low end before later giving way to a flute and a denser backing support. Even the playful “Symphonique #6 (Good For Goodie)” doesn’t stray far from core classical composition (at least to my ears). To be honest, after reading the book I expected something a bit more avant-garde, but these pieces, while somewhat short by classical standards, are quite fully realized.
I enjoyed Moondog – I suspect I’ll be checking out some of his other music on Spotify. I’m normally not much for classical, but I can see this helping me get through my work day when I’m tired if listening to electronic music (I don’t know about you, but having music with vocals playing is too distracting when I’m trying to concentrate on something…).