Is “outsider music” thriving or dying in the social media age?
On September 9th, 1992 newly minted rock star Kurt Cobain appeared at the MTV Video Music Awards clothed in a patterned button up and a white T-shirt. This T-Shirt was emblazoned with a peculiar drawing of a frog with comically long eye stalks, and the phrase “Hi, How Are You?” in large print. This cartoon, dubbed Jeremiah the Innocent by its creator, was the album artwork for a 1982 self-produced album by singer-songwriter Daniel Johnston.
When Hi, How Are You? was recorded, Johnston was a virtually unknown artist making tapes in whatever room, apartment, or garage he was calling home at the time. To call his early output “self-released” is a hell of an understatement, given that his primary distribution method was handing out cassettes to strangers in his community, some of whom he met while working at a local McDonalds. Nevertheless, he garnered a dedicated following in the alternative music scene around Austin, Texas and eventually his tapes began circulating in the wider underground. These recordings would prove to be influential to a generation of indie rockers and most famously become highly regarded by the aforementioned Nirvana frontman.
Despite being endorsed by one of the preeminent tastemakers of the time and garnering interest from major label record companies as a result, Daniel Johnston never became a mainstream star. He did however, continue on as a cult icon and perhaps the most visible artist to be associated with the nebulous genre of “outsider music”. Outsider music can be hard to define, as the term doesn’t really describe a cohesive musical style or aesthetic so much as the circumstances around the creation of the music. It can be tempting to describe it by simply saying “you’ll know it when you hear it”, but in order to discuss the current state of outsider music, we should attempt to establish some parameters for what qualifies to be labeled as such.
The first essential quality of outsider music is that it violates the expectations of the genre it is derived from. As I mentioned previously, outsider music doesn’t consist of one singular style. Most outsider artists are attempting to work within an existing genre but outputting music that doesn’t quite fit in with the work of their peers. Daniel Johnston could be described as an “indie-rock singer-songwriter”, but his ultra-lo-fi recording techniques, strained vocals, and unusual approach to playing instruments set him apart. Another example of an outsider music project that epitomizes this quality is My Teenage Dream Ended, the singular record released by reality TV star/adult entertainer Farrah Abraham. Abraham’s record was clearly meant to be the sort of EDM inflected pop fare that dominated the early 2010’s, but the combination of clunky amateurish production and a collection of vocal takes that can only be described as baffling, led to a record that was unfit for mainstream airplay but able to easily find an audience amongst fans of outsider music.
Both of these artists also exemplify the next quality that I would suggest, a lack of technical skill. While there are many styles of music that don’t prioritize instrumental and vocal ability (many subgenres under the “punk” umbrella come to mind) outsider music is characterized by a lack of technical skill that is not being posed as an ideological statement. This lack of proficiency contributes to the means by which the sonic expectations of the parent genre are subverted, but in a way that is underpinned by the final principle that defines outsider music, sincerity.
Of the criteria that I have proposed for defining outsider music, sincerity is likely the hardest to assess in a meaningful way, but it may also be the quality that is most essential. The reason sincerity matters so much is that it puts the other two elements into their necessary context. As I alluded to before, the lack of technical skill displayed by outsider artists is not politicized in the same way that it is in other movements. In outsider music, it comes instead from an honest attempt to create something without having well-honed tools with which to make that happen. The same goes for subverting genre expectations. The vision of the outsider artist isn’t to upend conventions as an act of defiance, the subversion is the result of a personal artistic journey which simply doesn’t fit into the traditional narrative for a specific kind of musician.
It is also important to clarify that the presence of these elements, in particular the lack of technical skill, does not mean that these musicians are creating art on accident or without intent. These elements are the framing that I use to qualify a work as “outsider art”, but they do not signify a lack of quality or meaning. I think more often, when a song or album succeeds in finding an audience with fans of outsider music, the three elements actually enhance the statement the artist is making. You can easily find articles about Daniel Johnston’s music that use adjectives like “pure” and “honest” to describe his songwriting. His deeply personal lyrics are made more relatable by the bare bones production and rough around the edges performance. I think for many listeners, being able to easily imagine an artist like Johnston recording at home with just a tape recorder and some cheap instruments creates a sense of intimacy. Even My Teenage Dream Ended, a project that had definite commercial aspirations and is usually enjoyed at lest semi-ironically, succeeds in capturing the very public turmoil of the artist’s life at that point. It is the sound of an emotionally distraught young woman wrestling with her trauma and giving in to the pressure that reality TV places on its stars to monetize their personal baggage. Even if some of the commentary is unintentional, the album still serves as more than an entertaining experimental listen. It’s also an interesting document of the media landscape that existed at the time of its creation.
As a longtime fan of outsider music, I have often thought about what artists or recordings might qualify as outsider music in the current musical climate. I frequently encounter music that has the feel of outsider music, often on platforms like Tiktok, but the medium can affect the way the audience interacts with these artists. Is it truly possible for new works of outsider art to be created in the new media landscape?
Many of the most talked about outsider musicians are, in some way or another, a relic of bygone days. They are often artists who distributed their music in limited batches of LPs, cassettes, or CDs which then circulated among collectors, small local fanbases, and other assorted weirdos. Even well known pieces of outsider music which were produced after the advent of the internet and home computers tend to predate the streaming era, and instead be the product of niche forums and other early online spaces that have since lost most of their influence. In short, there was always a separation between the outsider artist and potential listeners because the limited means of distribution denied them immediate access to a large audience. This is no longer the case, however. In a time where streaming is the most popular way to listen to music, there is technically a much lower barrier to entry when it comes to distribution. This is offset, of course, by the industry machine behind major artists, which uses advertising, playlist placement, and other marketing strategies to ensure that their new products will always take up a larger portion of the mainstream listener’s attention. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are countless indie acts uploading their new projects for streaming every day. Theoretically, this is the area where outsider music would be likely to crop up, and perhaps there are many projects in the vast ocean of digital streaming that could qualify as such. Unfortunately, this deluge of content decreases the likelihood of another Daniel Johnston or Wesley Willis developing a following. Simply put, it’s harder to stand out or be discovered in a larger field of artists, especially when so many of them are unknowns vying hard for a place in the crowded world of self publishing.
The massive increase in the sheer volume of music being recorded has had another side effect that may hurt the world’s chances of getting another outsider music icon. As new platforms and media outlets make it easier for people to connect and hear each other’s music, genre cross pollination has rapidly accelerated. As the walls between genres become less defined, the odds of transgressing the boundaries of any genre are lessened. Trend cycles also appear to be shortening, which makes the distinction between outsider music and other transgressive genres a bit murkier as well. Take for instance a group like 100 Gecs, whose twisted take on pop music would have made them an outlier in times past. In the current atmosphere however, they spawned legions of imitators within a couple of short years and became one of the primary architects of the “hyperpop” subgenre, which was trendy at the very least, if not entirely mainstream. It’s much harder for a piece of music to exist outside of norms when a sound can be iterated on so quickly. Indeed, a project like My Teenage Dream Ended would probably not stand out so easily among the current experiments happening in pop music production.
The one thing that may still be able to position newer artists as part of the culture of outsider music is their sincerity. The place I think this is easiest to find is on audiovisual social media platforms. The inspiration for this essay actually came from my own Tiktok feed. I’ll keep details vague in order to protect the identity of the creator, but in short, I became fascinated with a musician who posts songs that appear to be entirely improvised, lyrics and all. They accompany themselves on an instrument that is not normally used for solo accompaniment and do so by playing the same melody that they are singing. The lyrics are typically a stream of consciousness description of how the creator is feeling about random topics, ranging from the grand concept of love to what they ate for breakfast. The overall effect is charming and a bit comical, but also, as far as I can tell, seems to be an act of music making just for the love of music making. Upon first encountering this person’s videos, I was immediately struck with the thought, “Is this outsider music?”. It certainly hits the mark in terms of the three essential qualities that my definition is based on. And I think, in that moment at least, I was consuming a piece of outsider music. The challenge comes from one of the defining aspects of social media, virality.
While media sharing platforms can be an excellent breeding ground for art that fits the outsider mold, the potential for virality can pose a threat to the process of some of these creators. In times past, artists who gained cult success tended to do so slowly. The closest they might get to a viral moment would be something like Kurt Cobain wearing Daniel Johnston’s merch on TV, which sparked increased interest in Johnston’s work but didn’t translate into a high level of visibility overnight. Now, however, an artist can be suddenly exposed to an audience of literally millions unexpectedly. A gradual increase in exposure is less likely due the algorithmic nature of the platforms people use to consume new media. This is problematic for several reasons. For one, it’s much harder for an outsider artist to accrue a fanbase of dedicated listeners who engage with their art earnestly, or at least with good natured ironic enjoyment. People may not take a song like “Rock and Roll McDonalds” seriously but its singer, Wesley Willis, was beloved by his fans regardless of the nature of their enjoyment. Oddities such as that song used to be the sort of thing that a particular type of music fan actively sought out. There wasn’t really a mechanism that frequently placed them in front of the average listener. But now, a viral clip of a technically unskilled musician is likely to reach a much more normative audience and spawn numerous cruel jokes at the expense of the creator. This is especially concerning given the number of prominent outsider artists who have struggled with serious mental health problems and other disabilities. One might even wonder how many people who might have turned to music as a long term respite from their struggles instead got pulled into radical internet pipelines or wound up as the victims of extensive trolling campaigns. Sadly, early exposure to intense negative feedback on popular online platforms has probably killed many careers in their infancy.
The direct interaction that can occur between listeners and artists can have a subtler impact as well. Part of the magic of outsider music is that it is usually produced in a deeply personal space, or at least a non-traditional setting free from public observation or industry oversight. It’s hard not to see the pestering of internet commenters, even if the feedback is positive, as a disruption of the process that has produced so much great outsider art in the past. Music is a highly collaborative medium, and I don’t want to discount the value of that, but the fickle commentary of online observers is a less than ideal guiding force, especially for musicians who may be part of a vulnerable group. Outsider music is a result of people being left to their own creative devices. When given the unrestricted space to experiment and create even within limited means, people are sometimes capable of making something truly unusual. This is not a prescriptive view on how all music should be made or even how good music is made, but it is in my opinion the necessary set of circumstances that allow outsider music to happen.
Perhaps I am too much of an optimist on this subject, but in spite of all the new hurtles created by modern social media, I still believe it is at least possible for outsider art to exist and to emerge from these new media spaces. It does seem to be a more complicated prospect, but given enough time to create a body of work and a distinctive sound, I think it is still plausible. Of course this depends somewhat on the algorithm not prematurely selecting an artist for viral fame but still showing their work to an audience who may appreciate it. While this randomness is frustrating, there has always been and will always be an element of chance when it comes to getting your music heard. Nobody can totally control who encounters their work once it’s been pushed out into the world, and that has always been the case. It’s also worth mentioning that in contemplating topics as broad as “social media” or “internet music distribution” a writer is bound to have some blind spots, and I’m no exception. There are, in fact, some blind spots that nobody can see into, because the future of music will undoubtedly contain new developments in terms of technology, platforms, communication, etc. There’s no telling what corners and crevices will exist between these new spaces, but it will be exciting to see what strange new sounds might collect there.
Nicholas Rossler 