So maybe I’m a little late in writing this up or mentioning it (John got to it a week ago), but WTJU alum Marc Masters has an “interview” with Jandek, over at indyweek.com (via DJ BaconFat.) For those who are hungry for an actual interview, here are the only two legitimate interviews ever granted (and even then, hesitently) by the representative of Corwood Industries: a phone interview from 1985, and a magazine article from 1999.

For those who aren’t familiar with Jandek (or want to know more), you can read below for a cursory explanation as well as a digressive rant about the music industry and a personal recommendation re: my favorite Jandek album.

Jandek is an anonymous individual (or group — it’s never clear whether Jandek revers to the project or the man behind it) from Texas, who has released 55 albums since 1978. The music is sparse, unusual, morose, thoughtful, wonderfully lyrical, confessional yet mystifying, often inaccessible, and deeply fascinating. It relies on a loose set of blues idioms, and is often just one individual speak-singing over an unconventionally tuned acoustic guitar — although over the years, the arrangements have involved everything from drums, electric gtr+bass, and other singers to weird reverb experiments and spoken word albums.

The music is all self-released, and the individual responsible has never chosen to identify himself or promote his music through the traditional channels. Although the project was at times clearly collaborative, there was no musical “scene” or community which could claim Jandek as a member, and his lyrics and album covers evoked what was clearly a very personal, ongoing project which followed it’s own set of guidelines.

All contact with the artist was done anonymously through a single PO Box in Houston, connected with a record label called “Corwood Industries” — in the early years, he would mail copies of his albums to independant radio stations, and in recent years he would sell them in bulk to interested retailers or individual listeners.

For the first 26 years of his career, there were no live performances by Jandek — and then in 2004 he suddenly began a flurry of live performances around the world — he’s now done about 22 of them. (I was lucky enough to catch a show in Richmond two years ago — it was great!)

Much of the interest in Jandek is built around his anonymity — he’s infamously unidentified — leading to a sort of inverse cult-of-personality: an obsessive fanbase with no individual at its center. For me, the mystique of Jandek’s identity has always been a sort of double-edged sword. There is so much that is worthwhile and interesting about his music apart from the identity of the performer, and yet the method in which he’s released and promoted his work informs so much of the listening experience.

For years he was identified as an “outsider” musician, an annoying and often limited term which led many to believe that Jandek was some sort of mentally-damaged idiot-savant — careful listening, as well as the recent phases of his career, have shown that this is clearly not the case. He’s often described as working in total isolation, but his careful attention to a network of freeform & college radio stations, as well as the musicians he’s asked to perform along with him (Richard Youngs, Loren Mazzacane Conners, Alan Licht, some guys from Tortoise, C Spencer Yeh, Liz Harris from Grouper) indicate that he is clearly quite knowledgeable about contemporary independant and avant-garde music. Every decision he has made (and I’ve spoken to people who have collaborated with him, who confirm this) indicate that he is immensely knowledgeable and resourceful, and very particular about what he does — he’s a very attentive listener, it’s only when he chooses to contribute to the musical community that he becomes guarded and reserved. He does everything on his own terms, and it’s part of what makes his music so valuable.

He refers to himself in the phone interview as “an inordinately private person” who would “rather not” provide any personal information. I do happen to know his real name, but here’s a question: does it really matter? Why? To those who would want him to reveal more about himself: he puts out two or three albums a year! And most of them even have him on the cover! What more is there to know? For those who have criticized him for “ruining the mystique” of his earlier period by appearing in public and performing: you would never, ever make this criticism of any other musician.

Jandek is clearly interested in being heard, and appreciates (and in his own way, recipricates) the interest in his music.  I’ve always gotten the sense that his decision to maintain anonymity was not so much an aloof effort to self-mythologize, but merely an extension of the way that he lives his life and makes his art.

In the Texas Monthly article, he’s described as nerveous and self-conscious, extremely reluctant to identify himself. But when the author describes his music as being “cultivated in a hothouse,” he says, “that’s exactly the word I would have chosen.” Despite the fact that his music can sometimes get hilariously sloppy and raucus (like on 1984’s Insterstellar Discussion), there’s always a very deliberate set of choices being made. When the guy from SPIN asks him to clarify whether the other musicians on the album are friends of his, or mere acquantances, or professionals that he met, there a very, VERY long pause before he quietly says: “I don’t think I can answer that.”  You can hear that he’s both extremely guarded and shy about his personal life, and also that he’s actively decided to withhold that information, perhaps because he feels it’s unnecessary or frivolous.

By never providing any information other than song titles, album covers, and the PO Box, Jandek is making the statement that no other information is relevant or required. The more I listen to his music, the more I think he’s right.

For contemporary music enthusiasts, we have an oversaturation of information about the bands we like, especially if a lot of other people like them too. And while it’s great to have good music find a supportive audience, this sort of things tips over SO easily into Pitchfork-style hype bullshit, often tinged with snarky onfocused backlash. It’s a pretty easy thing to get sick of. To pick one small example: that whole Brooklyn Vegan kerfluffle over the Vivian Girls made me really depressed about the state of contemporary music journalism, and has redoubled my desire to help contribute in a small way to a valuable, sincere discourse about music that does not rely on rumor-mongering, sarcasm, or idolatry.

I like that independant music has become more successful and popular over the past 8 years, but in my mind we haven’t gone far enough. My ideal scenario would be a total decentralization of “popularity,” to the point where individual bands can succeed or fail on their own terms, without a bullshit industry falling over itself to congratulate themselves on discovering “next big thing.” If The Arcade Fire have become the New U2, that doesn’t speak to the greatness of both bands so much as the sad fact that we still want a “new U2,” and are disproportionately idolizing the Arcade Fire (and still even U2 themselves) at the expense of hundreds of bands which are just as good or far, far better. I sympathize with hardworking musicians, and I go out of my way to support them and encourage others to do the same. But I also wish we could all just deal with the experience of being music appreicators in a rational, sane manner. The longer I consider it, the more often there are days when Jandek’s method sounds the sanest.

If you’d like to discover Jandek’s music (or give it a second chance), but feel understandably daunted by his sprawling discography, allow me to make a recommendation: his sixteenth album, 1988’s You Walk Alone, is easily my personal favorite, and it’s the one that made me love Jandek and seek out dozens of his other albums to see if any of them were this good (they weren’t, but a lot of them were Very Good).

I’ve listened to this album hundreds of times and have never once got sick of it. It’s effortlessly cool, yet totally embarassing. It’s both strangely sexy and quite funny. It’s strange, it’s ridiculous, and there are moments where it’s totally touching and revelatory. You can hear the whole album straight through on this one YouTube video, or you can buy it for about $8.99 or cheaper, wherever Jandek albums are sold.