Sixties style singer feeds the inner hippie
There is a hippie in each of us. Underneath the showers, fancy-smelling lotions and designer clothes, we each house a dirty, patchouli-wearing hippie. And Devendra Banhart speaks to it.
Upon finding a Devendra Banhart album, you will no doubt first notice the stringy freehand drawings that adorn its front and back. And if these aren’t enough to convince you of Banhart’s free-loving inner-self, find a picture of him. Part caveman, part mystic, he is a man born in the wrong decade. A graduate of the San Francisco Art Institute, Devendra Banhart has almost completely adopted the psychedelic history of his alma mater.
Keeping with his 40-years-too-late persona, his voice wafts through the speakers like incense smoke. Most often little more than a whisper, Banhart has found a way to fully exploit his most unique asset. Sounding alternately like Jim Croce and Nick Drake, Devendra Banhart is able to croon his way convincingly through slow sambas, plaintive folk and nonsensical songs about everything from a floating hand made by animals to his hopes of having a long-haired child. He sings in both Spanish and English and his songs sally from language to language like water, filling whatever space they inhabit.
Banhart’s catalog, recorded on broken four tracks and home studios, is decidedly lo-fi. The result is a warm, familiar sound that is more likely to be coming from your roommate’s bedroom than from a professional studio. The no-frills production of his four albums allows his rootsy songwriting and soft voice to take center stage, and the end result is magical.
Underneath the psychedelia references and mystic caveman persona, there is an engaging, earnest artist that exudes confidence and isn’t afraid to take risks. So feed your inner hippie and take a listen. After all, it’s cheaper than a handful of lava lamps and incense sticks.
Zach Pendleton column “The Best You’ve Never Heard,” appears weekly. Comments and questions can be sent to
zachpendleton@cc.usu.edu