Dan Knudsen

Dan Knudsen
Live at Strange Maine
self-released

Dan Knudsen’s Live at Strange Maine is a small triumph, both for Knudsen himself and for Portland’s music scene in general, which may finally come to truly appreciate this quirky, utterly earnest folk singer now that this wonderful album exists.

Having completed the trilogy of studio albums he envisioned six years ago with the release of Beaches and Zoos last fall, Knudsen nails live versions of his strongest songs before a small, but enthusiastic, audience. There are also two new songs on this 15-track CD, as well as a live version of “Jesus Is The King,” a previously unreleased composition included on the “greatest hits” compilation he put out a couple years ago.

Several favorites are augmented by backing musicians, and there’s plenty of singing and clapping along. Mystical heavy metal guitarist Glade Swope [the subject of a recent profile you can read here] sits in on bongos for “Ministers of Faith,” a Christian number that gets people in the audience crooning its off-key chorus of “oohs” and “aahs.”

Adam Schutzman adds musical saw to “Rain Falls Outside My Window” (here listed as “Rainfalls Outside My Window”) and “We Are Not Alone,” both from 2002’s Grass, Grain & Appleseeds. The saw’s haunting tones transform “Rainfalls,” a pretty song, into a thing of genuine beauty. On the latter – a catchy, uptempo affirmation of extraterrestrial life – the saw sounds like a sci-fi B-movie sound effect, but it works!

Just as Schutzman sweetens “Rainfalls,” drummer and keyboardist Chris Livengood (almost everyone in Knudsen’s backing band has a kick-ass rock name) makes the innocent “Beaches and Zoos” shine like the gem it is.
The poppy anti-domestic-violence number “I Won’t Hurt You,” with Livengood on drums and Chris DiRocco on electric guitar, brings Knudsen, who plays acoustic guitar on most tracks, as close to actually “rocking” as he’s ever been. “Reach for the sky, people! Get those hands up in the air! Let’s go! Whoo!” he exhorts most uncharacteristically, as though he’s addressing a sold-out arena rather than a tiny downtown record shop/book store/performance space. The “crowd” eats it up.

Jepthah Hardison’s kazoo break on “Go North Little Child” initially sounds absurd in the context of lyrics that warn and advise children about sexual predators. But the cheery verse that follows – “though you may look small on the outside, you can still feel great on the inside” – makes the goofy instrument’s inclusion sound appropriate despite the heavy subject matter.

The defining moment on the record comes just before the last track, a new number called “F.O.L.K. In The U.S.A.” that draws heavily from John Mellencamp’s mid-‘80s hit.

“Here’s one that I just wrote,” Knudsen tells the dozen or so people in attendance. “It not only gives advice to wannabe folk artists, like some of you,” he says, with a little laugh.

The tiny audience begins to laugh at this, and then can’t stop laughing. They know Knudsen – the son of Maine Episcopal Bishop Chilton R. Knudsen – is one of the nicest people on the planet, and as such is practically incapable of purposely delivering a cutting remark. To Knudsen, the term “wannabe folk artist” means “someone who wants to be a folk artist,” and he genuinely wants to help people who aspire to perform this music.

“Thanks, Dan,” someone says sarcastically, but good-naturedly, and this elicits more hoots while Knudsen, seemingly unsure what’s so funny, tries to continue the introduction: “Um, but it’s also a … OK… it’s also a tribute to ‘60s folk and ‘70s folk rock music….”

“Who isn’t a wannabee folk artist?” someone asks aloud, and here Knudsen takes the cake. “Hey, I already made it,” he says. “Why don’t you guys try it someday and maybe you’ll surprise yourselves, you know?” Someone giggles. Knudsen begins to strum a ukulele. He sings: “Sometimes you imagine that you would like to be a folk singing and songwriting star/Take some time to learn and practice playing the acoustic guitar/F.O.L.K. in the U.S.A….”

Dan Knudsen now has five self-released, homemade albums with crappy, photocopied covers. He has a handful of die-hard fans and never charges a cover for his more-or-less monthly appearances at places like Strange Maine and Granny’s Burritos. He’s as far from being a folk music star as Earth is from Alpha Centauri.

But Knudsen also has a heart of gold. He’s got a catalogue of simple, instantly loveable songs about love and nature and peace and Jesus and aliens. His audience may be small, but it’s slowly growing. And in his mind, he’s “already made it.”

And after hearing Live at Strange Maine, I agree. Knudsen has made it on the local folk scene through years of hard work and the sheer force of his boundless goodwill.

“I don’t advise that you go into it for fortune and fame,” Knudsen sings on “F.O.L.K.” “It doesn’t pay very well, but the fans will get to know your name.”

In one sense, it’s fortunate that Knudsen hasn’t really hit the big time. Mellencamp would sue his ass off.

Editor’s note: Live at Strange Maine can be purchased at Strange Maine (578 Congress St., Portland) and other discerning record retailers, but be aware that this CD-R (recordable CD) may not play in its entirety on all CD players. My copy stopped tracking correctly about two-thirds of the way through. I was able to get around this by importing the album into my computer using a common music software program, then burning it to a blank disc, which plays flawlessly.