This Goat can write better than you can

I'll be the first to admit that I indulge in blatant, unrestrained hero-worship of John Darnielle, the frontman (and often only member) of the Mountain Goats. He combines simple melodies with unparalleled lyricism, rivaling some of the greatest songwriters in this or any canon (Dylan, watch your back. You slack off, Darnielle's gonna overtake you).

Is this a primer on the illustrious Goats?  Perhaps. You'd all do well to educate yourselves on one of the best acts in independent music—perhaps one of the best acts in all of music of all time. But I'm admitting to a slight bias upfront. Here's a saltshaker. If you need to, shake out a few grains now and then. You may need them with me around.

Darnielle's been making music for years, but most of his work never saw the light of day—or if it did, saw it in the form of cassettes from the tape-only label Shrimper throughout the early '90s. His trademark sound was his own nasal, bleating voice (inspiration, perhaps, for the Goats moniker, although according to popular rumor, he named it after a Screamin' Jay Hawkins song), a badly strummed acoustic guitar and the grinding loop of a tape wheel lodged too close to the microphone in his boom box, which doubled as his recording studio.  

It's not a repertoire or a method too many musicians would be proud of, but Darnielle's passion for his storytelling and masterful command of metaphor and imagery shine through above the limitations of the medium. 

Trust me. This guy can write. Better than you can. Better than I can. Better than most professional poets, novelists or essayists can. This stuff is more literary than most literature. 

After collaborating with John Vanderslice and the 4AD record label, Darnielle began to hit the mainstream. Albums like We Shall All Be Healed and The Sunset Tree made people sit up and take notice. His latest effort, Get Lonely, is one of the best records of the year.  

But he's never made a hip-hop album.  

So when I heard that Darnielle would be rapping on Aesop Rock's forthcoming album, None Shall Pass (tentatively and rather vaguely scheduled for "the first half of 2007") something about it didn't quite fit. Darnielle isn't terribly well known for his skill and fortitude as an emcee. He hasn't won too many freestyle battles, nor to my knowledge has he ever participated in any.

But there he is — or rather, there he will be — dropping a couple tracks on an Aesop Rock record. Life is beautifully unpredictable.

Reach Intermisson columnist Jeff Echert at jeffechert@thedaily.washington.edu.