walking across the tundra, dismembered on a table, standing near a coffin

"I hate myself ..." - Jandek, 13 Jan 2008, Swedish American Hall in San Francisco.

"I like some experimental music, but I don't want to see some old guy playing one note over and over and going 'arhuuhuhhhuuhhhhhhhh'." - Irwin, giving Conor his ticket to Jandek (without actually having any foreknowledge of what Jandek would sound like).

A brief recap of the super-hero origin story, for those who don't know what a Jandek is (mercilessly cribbed from the linked site): about 30 years ago, an entity called Corwood Industries in Houston started putting out records on a regular basis credited to first The Units, then Jandek. The records were enigmatic, with blurry or deliberately obscure cover images, but it was the music that was striking: sometimes obviously one person, sometimes maybe a few, all sounding like it was recorded in a bedroom while plumbing the depths of the human soul with virtually no relation to any recorded music, at least harmonically speaking. Haunting out-of-tune vocals set to detuned guitar sounds like a recipe for amusing ineptitude, but in fact it is rescued by the fact it is totally freaking scary to listen to. All the while, the identity of Jandek remained a mystery, and after fifteen-twenty years of the mystery growing, investigations went beyond drunken discussions by college radio DJs and deeper into first articles, then finally a documentary. Finally, in 2004, to the utter shock of everybody in the freaking world who'd heard of him, Jandek made his live debut, and while most expected this to be a one-off appearance, in point of fact he's become, if not a touring machine per se, a reasonably regular live performer, flying from city to city, playing with local musicians as a backing group, and writing a new set for each show.

I am not a Jandek fan. I know Jandek fans, and their devotion is astonishing. But I never really got it - I certainly recognize the singularity and power of the music, but rarely found myself in a situation where I said, "hey, you know what I want to hear right? Jandek!" But when I realized I would be in the San Francisco area when Jandek was playing, I knew instantly I had to go, not just because my friend Andy, the biggest Jandek fan I know, lives in Oakland, but because ... well, it's JANDEK. Plus Tom Carter on bass! (And Ches Smith on drums, who I'd never heard of, but I figured you'd ask.)

From the first notes, I was instantly in doubt of my decision. Jandek* played the six strings of his guitar in succession, like a guitarist making sure his instrument is in tune, but in fact it was anything but: a series of pitches that sounded like what happens when you pick up a guitar that's been unplayed for years and a random passer-by has played with a couple of the tuning pegs. Seemingly content with this tuning, it began.

And it was, quite honestly, terrible. Atonal guitar, tonal bass, fractured drums, and just a mess.

But not uninteresting. You start asking questions to yourself, like, "Does Jandek think he's in tune?" "Did he write these lyrics on the plane?"

After two songs, I was fading rapidly. And he was scheduled for something like two hours.

And as I starting fading into a sidereal state, something really odd happened: it all came together. As an unreliable observer, I can't determine whether the band got better or the half-asleep state is the Jandek state, the perfect state for shutting down rational objections to his music and being swept up in the sea of desolation. (The title references a few of his lyrics from the show, to give you some idea of the happy fun time.)

I suppose also, as the show went on, I got to hear the many different flavors of Jandek, which is to say, three. After the show, I saw a sort of set-list on the sound guy's desk, which listed the song numbers 1-14, followed by one of three descriptors: "ballad", "brutal", or "blues". This doesn't account for the fact that one instrumental track near the end sounded eerily like Ultra Hummus. Anyway, the result was something that was so utterly unique and hypnotic that the more I drifted the more I enjoyed.

My internet connection is spotty and the deadline is fast approaching, so I will terminate this now with the overall summation that I'm very happy that I saw Jandek but pretty confident I'm not going to make it a major priority to see him again. Although if he promised to play a slightly shorter set (this one was two hours and fifteen minutes) I might be more likely to give it a spin.

Tom, if you're around, let us know what it was like to play with Jandek.

*I'm reliably informed that, in fact, the lead musician in Jandek should be referred to as "the representative of Corwood Industries". I am going to blithely ignore this suggestion.