by Frisco Rosso
The 20th Century was littered with maniacal musicians and performers who made a point of trashing equipment and obliterating hotel rooms, supposedly in the name of creative angst but usually just for the bloody hell of it.
Hendrix started fires, Townsend smashed guitars, Moon favoured explosives and The Kinks unleashed unbridled hell on one other. But these perturbed equipment destroyers pale in comparison to the musical disaster area and unjustified YouTube phenomenon that is The Treeman.
Based in Liverpool, John ‘Treeman’ Ryan (aka The Angriest Guitar Player in the World), picked up the guitar in 2011 after a 15-year hiatus, having previously “lost all interest” in playing and song writing.
Apparently inspired by the equally bonkers Daniel Johnston, The Treeman entered into a flurry or writing just over a year ago, and has been has been musically pissing into the wind and breaking stuff ever since.
His two most viewed videos, racking up a combined total of 1,544,664 hits as of today, offer a fearful insight into the writing and rehearsal of The Treeman’s Ghost of Love and magnum opus Magic Man, available on 7” vinyl, for those with wastrel tendencies.
The Treeman’s obscure crumby material, coupled with the issue of looking like he was washed up face down on the shores of Southport Beach, goes some way to explaining the man’s tendency to go utterly bat shit without provocation.
Having written a plethora of crappy songs on the guitar over the years myself, I can relate to this poor bugger’s misery, sort of. Trying to nail the solo of Pantera’s Domination may have made me want to throw the guitar out the window and set fire to something, but it never inspired Treeman levels of psychosis or the actual urge to smash something to pieces.
Although The Treeman is little more than a self-inflicted ASBO waiting to happen, he has managed to plant his beard and duct-taped acoustic in front of a microphone to do some recording.
His music is likely to make folk enthusiasts laugh until the wee runs down their legs, but if ever there was an example of stupidity triumphing over common sense for the sake of morbid attention, then The Treeman is it.
If it’s a slow day, you can check out his finished results here.
With more tension than your mother’s suspension, I am Frisco Rosso. I’m likely to deliver a few lines worth at any given moment regarding film, music, sport, books and anything morally unsound that strikes a blow between the eyes in the name of entertainment.