There is a theory that critics fresh out of university like to espouse called “the death of the artist”, which suggests all art should be judged separate from its maker; that all pertinent information can be found within the work, and anything outside of it – say, a recent drink-driving charge and a redemptive three-part documentary series – will only colour the art in a detrimental way.
Of course, this isn’t at all how it works. Australia’s quarter-century fascination with the personal struggles of Silverchair frontman Daniel Johns shows the art and the life of this particular artist are deeply linked. Johns’ highly publicised struggles don’t just feed into his music, they directly inform it. His fans love him due to the unflinchingly personal nature of his music.
