Barry Hansen, aka Dr. Demento February 22, 2001 No, this is not a bizarre printing accident...I, Dr. Demento, purveyor of "Fish Heads," "Dead Puppies", the works of "Weird Al" Yankovic and other lighthearted musical mischief, am also a disciple of John Fahey. I was actually a Faheyite long before I was Demento. The facts have been recorded elsewhere: I was a fellow student of John's at the UCLA Folk Music Studies program in the mid-Sixties, lived next-door to him for a year in Venice (California), acted as "road manager" for a few of John's performing gigs, and shared a lengthy road trip in search of old records and traditional musicians. I'd heard John's music even before that: a fellow student at Reed College owned one of the 95 surviving copies of the first pressing of the John Fahey/Blind Joe Death LP, John's vinyl debut. I was blown away by John's combination of two of the things I loved most in music: traditional blues guitar style, and the adventurous harmonies of modern classical music. I think John appreciated some of the things I did for him...but as a somewhat orthodox folksong scholar (in those days) I was also part of something he had a problem with. While John loved to talk about music as much as anyone, he had no patience with the anal-obsessive, stifling pedantry that often passed for folksong scholarship, especially as exhibited in the large booklets that often came with LP's of traditional music. The equally large booklets that John wrote for several of his Takoma LP's began, I believe, as satires of the folksong scholars. (In one of them you'll encounter "Tree Sloth Man" -- that's me).

John Fahey, Tim Cretsinger, Barry Hansen at Groovacious Platters, Salem, OR, 1994. Photo by Lisa Cretsinger

John's writing soon took on a life of its own. When his musical inspiration flagged for a time later on, John found new outlets for his words...and when his musical muse returned in radical new form in the mid-Nineties, his pen was also re-energized and transformed. Enter John Fahey's word world and you'll soon discover the sting of his sarcasm and his utter disdain for tact, but you'll also realize that there are some things he holds very dear, and he fights for them like a tiger. As storyteller, music critic or philosopher (or all three at once) he may get you riled up sometimes...which is just what he had in mind. Get as mad as you want...wherever he may be, Fahey will love you for that. Writing this on the day of his death, I realize more than ever what a life-changing experience it was to know John, or at least some part of what he was. While I may not be able to communicate that experience like I wish I could, his words (like his music) say it all. Barry Hansen February 22, 2001