Devendra Banhart: A Multidisciplinary Artist Revolutionizing Folk and Psychedelic Music

Devendra Banhart, the Venezuelan-American singer-songwriter and visual artist, has always been a bit of an enigma. Born in Houston, Texas, and raised in Caracas, Venezuela, Banhart’s multicultural upbringing shaped a sound that defies easy categorization. His music is a collage of folk, psychedelic, pop, Tropicália, and world music stitched together with surreal lyrics and a voice that feels both ancient and childlike.

He left school at sixteen to pursue music, a decision that would eventually place him at the center of the early 2000s “freak folk” movement. A term he never fully embraced, but one that captured the spirit of his early work. His debut album, Oh Me Oh My…, released in 2002, was a lo-fi patchwork of short fragments and stream-of-consciousness storytelling. It was raw, strange, and deeply personal.

As his career progressed, Banhart’s sound expanded. Cripple Crow (2005) and Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon (2007) marked a shift toward more elaborate arrangements and psychedelic textures. These albums are lush, theatrical, and deeply layered, filled with Spanish lyrics, spiritual references, and sonic detours. “Little Yellow Spider” and “Long Haired Child” remain two of my favorites: playful, haunting, and unmistakably his.

One of Banhart’s most remarkable traits is his storytelling. His lyrics are vivid, often surreal, populated by quirky characters and unexpected turns. Each song feels like a short story, or a dream you’re not sure you had. There’s a sense of impermanence in his work. A willingness to let go, to move on, to reinvent. As he once said, “Impermanence is part of the gig.”

His artistry extends beyond music. Banhart is also a visual artist, with his drawings, paintings, and mixed-media works appearing on album covers and in galleries. His 2015 book, I Left My Noodle on Ramen Street, is a collection of visual art that mirrors his musical sensibility: eclectic, abstract, and deeply personal. His work is a sensory experience, a blend of sound and image that invites you to step outside the ordinary.

Banhart’s influence on modern music is undeniable. He helped revive interest in folk and psychedelic genres, and his genre-fluid approach paved the way for more experimental singer-songwriters. Artists like Joanna Newsom, Iron & Wine, and even Father John Misty owe something to the space Banhart carved out—where eccentricity isn’t just tolerated, it’s celebrated.

I had a surreal moment with Banhart once, indirectly. An ex-girlfriend of mine, Molly, was friends with him. On her birthday, while we were together, he called and sang “Happy Birthday” to her. It was strange and beautiful. I was at the height of my appreciation for his music, and hearing his voice through the phone felt like a kind of cosmic wink. Molly and Devendra met at a music festival. My interests eventually steered me in different directions, especially as his music shifted further into the psychedelic. I’m less familiar with those later albums, but I still admire his influence and accomplishments.

Devendra Banhart is a reminder that music doesn’t have to be tidy. It can be messy, mystical, and deeply human. His work continues to resonate, and not because it conforms, but because it doesn’t. Whether you’re drawn to his early folk recordings or his later psychedelic explorations, Banhart’s discography is a journey worth taking. Just don’t expect a map.