Some time ago, Devendra Banhart sat down and started to write
short or long letters to himself. With them, he managed to amuse his
inner child. The letters had the form of songs and were never intended
to be for someone else. Nevertheless, they are now included in a record
called Oh Me Oh My… and they can absorb, enchant and even scare
the hell out of you. Recorded alone, like I said, in different places
around the world in four track tape recorders, or in his friends’
answering machines, accompanied solely by his guitar and sometimes
his whistle and handclap, the 22 pieces that make up this collection
were released by Michael Gira, the legendary mastermind of Swans/Angels
of Light/Young God Records last year, when Devendra was merely 21
years old and had abandoned art school. And maybe though the feeling
of childhood and intimacy that permeates this album is not a surprise,
the captivating sensitivity of his song-craft is.
Devendra is said to be related to a tradition of tortured and brilliant
songwriters like Van Morrison, Syd Barret or Nick Drake, and although
the sweet and warming tone of Devendra shares the gentle wistfulness
of Nick Drake's songs and the tortured and hallucinating aura of Van
Morrison or Barret, Devendra's songwriting could be related as well
to the surrealist tradition of poets and, furthermore, to surrealist
painting. Indeed, Devendra's evocative and at times bizarre guitar
style seem to describe huge, simple and solid shapes of vivid colors,
and his voice is a precise paintbrush that sketches complicated and
mysterious figures that move slow sometimes, other times intensively,
faster than the eye and disappearing, filling up certain places and
corners and leaving big empty spaces that serve as echoing boxes for
his perturbing falsetto and relaxing lull which can sometimes remind
you of Billie Holliday.
Childhood, as an element in pop music, has never had the purity that
Devendra delivers. Devendra succeeds at boosting a feeling of innocence
that others can reach only briefly, and his primary underlying theme
is the struggle of the confined child who through his innate ability
of creating a whole universe tries to escape his reality. A gifted
child who can sense beforehand, who can or wants to feel the presence
of something in the dark attic where he invents complicated mind games.
An infant extremely scared of strangers, who in "Nice People", says:
Your certainly nice people, in your white ass suits and your lion
tattoos, you've seen it all; he is talking from the distance of his
own mind, the only place where he can feel safe. Through his voice
you can hear other voices that come from a single place: a not too
distant past, because he hasn't left the family unit although maybe
he is thousand miles away from home.
The hiss, and even the closing of doors and passing of cars one can
hear on the record provide a particular feeling of charm and intimacy,
just like if you were listening to a good old vinyl record which has
lived with you since you don't remember when. It does not matter if
in the beginning Devendra's lyrics do not seem to make sense to you,
they will. Like most worthy pieces of art, his songs require further
listening to be fully appreciated and in this sense they are not a
product of the times. They are small strange gems that prevail due
to a Joan Miró's statement: form is always a token of something; it
is never an abstract thing. Maybe Devendra abandoned at some point
art school, but he keeps on painting his songs as beautiful children's
letters and just like Miró's art, Devendra's songs are works of a
pure and immense significance.
Devendra
Banhart OH ME OH MY...The Way The Day Goes By The Sun Is Setting Dogs
Are Dreaming Lovesongs Of The Christmas Spirit 
