No money. No love. Just Music. Just Moondog - Meg Noir
Hello. Well, because I’m a lazy asshole I actually haven’t written a real piece in about 8 months… and I don’t really intended to now, but I just feel inspired to write about a crazy cool cat that I recently read about.
So, I’m chilling at Cape Town airport, sitting on the cold floor, feeling slightly hung over as per usual, and reading a book about Bob Dylan when I stumble across this: "Moondog also performed down here. He wore a viking helmet and a blanket with high fur boots. Moondog did monologues, played bamboo pipes and whistles. Most of the time he performed on 42nd street.”
That was all the information the book gave about Moondog. I read 3 lines in a 300 page book and I was already hooked on this Moondog character. Not only did he have a kickass name that made me want to start a band called MoonCAT, but he seemed inspired by something larger than your average performer. He seemed different to those masses of fame-seeking conformists who perform to be a name and hear their name shouted out by mindless teens living in hallow, closed-off boxes. So, I did what any curious person would do: I googled and youtubed the shit out of Moondog.
Moondog was blinded when he was 17 years old due to a dynamite accident. He moved to New York, arriving with no contacts and only one month´s rent. 54th Street and Avenue became known as Moondog corner. He’d just recite his own poetry and play his homemade drums and keyboards wearing his crazy cool outfit. He lived on the streets for several decades BY CHOICE. I’m not going to continue boring you with facts, because you can google that shit, but basically this guy lived for his music.
I guess what’s drawn me to Moondog is how he had a love for performance and music, and not a lust for fame and fortune. He wasn’t looking for money or romantic love, but rather a passion. I hate most people. I really do. But this guy is more like a god. If you listen to his music, it’s so ahead of his time. It’s hypnotising, and beautiful, and potent, everything music should be, but so seldom is. I mean, Prime Circle have 203135 likes on facebook compared to Moondog’s 6286 likes… The world loves what’s convenient and commercial, but Moondog didn’t give a damn about that. He did what he wanted and stopped caring about public opinion. He didn’t care about reviews or how many fans he had. He cared for his music. Bands these days seem to be image driven, ‘hipsters’ (or whatever they call themselves) who seem to think that if they wear a pair of tight skinny jeans and sing about heartbreak no one will actually realise how crap their music is and perhaps they will even have a good shag from some STD infested groupie at the end of the night.
Moondog had a dream. Although he was blind, he could see a lot clearer than most of us today. He lived for pure music. Nothing more. Nothing less. I appreciate that.
[Yes. Pardon my offensive language. Shit happenes]