Luie Luie stands out as a genuine oddball in a world of faux freaks

Based in Southern California, Luie is a multi-instrumentalist on a mission. As he explains in the opening track, "El Touchy," he made Touchy in 1974 "all by myself," jumping among the harp, bells, guitar, percussion, Moogs, "and what have you," but always with that signature trumpet — or, in the case of his "Touch of Light," "up to 14 trumpets." The music is great, his mishmash of styles making for some really zany jukebox gems. But it's the uber-enthusiast whose voice prefaces every track that really made me a sucker for this guy: He tells you how much he loves everything from magical hand-touched tortillas to talk of "more advanced forms of life on other planets, money, finance, dirty rotten politicians, wars, energy, no energy ..."

He loves it; he loves it all.

Companion owners Will Louviere and Troy Peters swear this Luie character really exists, and that in person his joie de vivre remains intact. Louviere, a collector of obscure vinyl, tracked Luie down through a 45 bearing Luie's real name, Luis Johnston. They met in Luie's hometown of Victorville, where Louviere says Luie "showed up in a three-piece suit, driving a Mercedes Benz, holding a painting he'd done of Jesus Christ." (According to his official bio, Luie, now in his 60s, makes his living working as a painter, screenwriter, and nightclub entertainer.)

Like Luie, Louviere and Peters see artistic merit in what other folks might call the absurd. Their tiny, 5-year-old label pulls outsider music down from the elitist, collectors-only prices, making sure the royalties go to the original artists. They've only worked with a couple of groups so far, but the range is eclectic — everything from Vancouver Christian rock (the New Creation), to a Turkish émigré recording in New York (Marc Mundy), to a Santa Cruz folk act with a thing for crickets (Charlie Tweddle), with Luie Luie being their latest release.

Peters says of the roster, "There's no style, but there is a sincerity that runs through all of it. They were all recording something they really had high hopes for, and I think it comes out how seriously they took it." Louviere adds, "Aside from Luie, they were all crushed, totally devastated for years afterward, because they believed in their music and people weren't ready for it."

All the Companion releases were originally recorded without the help of a label in the early to mid-'70s, Louviere and Peters say. (Luie's Touchy has only one new track, his closing condemnation of the bootlegging industry — "music pirates in Switzerland and New Jersey" — that previously released Touchy without his permission.) "There's no filter between that original idea or sound that the group has and the final product," says Louviere. "Now that's pretty commonplace with a lot of DIY music, but in the '70s it was less so; there was less self-consciousness about being DIY. There's no junk in the middle, no producer saying, 'More cowbell.'"