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By Max Conroy
The other day I sent a letter to Jandek. Well, I sent it to Corwood Industries; to the same post office box that’s been used by Corwood Industries/Jandek for the last thirty years. I felt kind of lame for doing this because I thought of how many geeks like me have done it over the years. I was also thinking about stories that I’ve heard and read about where Jandek will send radio stations and journalists interested in his music crates of records for years on end, and if at all possible I want crates of Jandek records. I’m not sure if a shit-ton of Jandek records could possibly be healthy in any way, but I’d certainly listen to them and be obliged to review them. Naturally, we focus on vinyl here and Corwood only makes CDs now, so I also wanted to find out if Corwood has any records lying around the apartment. I had also seen in Jandek on Corwood that Corwood Industries would send letters in response to people searching for information about Jandek, presumably from Jandek, that have polite and firmly cryptic refusals to provide any information beyond the records:
The story must be crafted from what you have and know from the music. We cannot provide interviews or other exchanges of information outside of the releases at present. It’s probable that your crafted story would be more interesting than any other. Intrigue goes a long way sometimes.
The examples that I’ve seen of these response letters are typically written in slightly sloppy block lettering and are signed by ‘Corwood’ or ‘Your friends at Corwood’. I wrote the letter and asked for recommended records, since there are 53 of them, any promotional material to review, and asked if they had any vinyl left. In the letter I addressed Corwood as to whom I was writing, referring to Jandek only in the third person. I didn’t really expect any response beyond an order form for CDs, but would love records or even a letter written in the same format that I’d seen.
This was two weeks ago approximately that I sent the letter. I went to my mailbox today, opened it, and there was a single letter in the narrow box. It was a letter from Corwood Industries, the address stamped in the top left corner of the envelope. It seemed eerily appropriate that the letter seemed lonely in my mailbox, as it’s a rare day that it doesn’t get filled with a bunch of bullshit, wasted paper. I took care in opening it, not wanting to destroy the envelope or the letter and noticed that it was written in slightly sloppy, mostly block lettering, the paper looked like it had a rough time of it at Corwood or on the way from Houston:
We literally have no vinyl to offer. We sold all vinyl and moved to CD. Vinyl is in production at:
Jackpot Records, 203 SW 9th Ave, Portland, OR 97205
We suggest you inquire therein.
(No Signature)
I checked out Jackpot Records online and they only offer Jandek CDs. Perhaps I will see if they are going to manufacture Jandek vinyl. The letter seems typical, but there was no salutation or signature. If you’re out there, Jandek, Cousins would love to review some records or hear from you.
Click below to view the actual letter and to hear a jam off one of Jandek’s most recent platters The Myth of Blue Icicles.
By Max Conroy
On Saturday, May 17th Jandek played a free concert at the University of Michigan’s Lydia Mendelssohn Theater. The show was sponsored by WCBN-FM (88.3 on your FM dial), the student-run station of the University, booked by Brendt Rioux, and featured James Cornish on trumpet, Christian Matjias on harpsichord, and Biba Bell on vocals and improv dance. Apparently this was the first Jandek performance to feature live improv dancing. Jandek played hollow body bass and sang. This is what’s known.
This is what’s unknown: the identity of Jandek, the aim of his endeavors, and virtually everything about the production and meaning behind his music. Jandek has put out fifty-three albums in thirty years. The records range from atonal bluesy folk to thirty minute vocal-only tracks and some feature other musicians most likely (even though he does overdub tracks). The lyrical content of his songs are most definitely poetic in nature, possibly autobiographical, and definitely surreal, causing people to speculate as to whether or not this is a sort of diary of a person suffering from mental illness or records to be enjoyed as such, art for art’s sake.
There are only a handful of people who have ever spoken to or communicated with Jandek; and in these instances, the person is known only as a “representative of Corwood Industries.” Corwood Industries is Jandek’s record label and in his only recorded interview, by John Trubee for Spin in 1985, featured on YouTube and as an extra on the Jandek on Corwood DVD, he discloses that he is the “sole proprietor” of Corwood, which has maintained the same PO Box in Houston since 1978. All of his records and DVDs are purchased directly from Corwood/Jandek, cheaply, and none are sold to record stores or libraries. Jandek also mentions in that interview that at the time he was working as a machinist and living in Houston, Texas. The name on the copyright information for Jandek’s records in the Library of Congress is Sterling Richard Smith, born in Rhode Island in 1945 (he mentions Rhode Island in several songs). He originally recorded one record under the name The Units and sent his record to radio stations and record stores, and was forced to change the name when a guy whom he sent the record to in San Francisco threatened to sue him as that was the name of his band. As a result he wanted to find a name that no one could possibly have, so he ended up speaking to a fellow named Dekker in January and came up with Jandek.
The more that I research Jandek, the more his history or what he’s illuminated for us seems to be the creation of a highly intelligent, very sane person, very similar to the way a novelist comes up with material culled from his past, subconscious, and ability to tell a convincing story. Before his days as Jandek, he allegedly wrote seven novels, which he burned after being rejected by publishers. He tells Trubee that, “I put out a product, and that’s it. I don’t want to get too involved.” This smells like bullshit to me, but very good bullshit.
Country Roads, Happy Easter, and Sally Lives On
by Cousin Geoff:
I hope you all had a nice holiday weekend. I spent mine in northern Michigan, all day out in the woods on snowshoes, shot some guns, found the best walking stick ever off a downed oak branch, and spent time with family. I also gave away one of my dogs. Sally the hound, gone, too much for me and my wife now with baby Ella. Despite her bad behavior (constant nervous energy, getting up on the couch, in the garbage, that old coon-hound howl at all the wrong times) I was sad to see ol’ Sally go. We’ve had a lot of good times in the past four years, but she’s just an up north dog, and not an Ypsilanti dog, and that’s just the truth. My other dog Zoe we’re keeping, but she’s feeling down and out because Sally was her constant companion. A sad story, but they are afterall, just dogs.
Driving home today, I heard Toots and The Maytals sing Country Road on XM, and I realized that a good song is a good song, and a good friend is a good friend, even if it ain’t nothing but a hound dog. Ann Arbor’s The RFD Boys (been meaning to write about these guys for a long time, and I will eventually) do a great version of this, more true to John Denver’s original, and very different than Toots and The Maytals, but still the same song.
The RFD Boys version:
Toots version:
It’s Easter and I missed church today but I haven’t been in forever anyway. So I’ll make up for it by including a few Jesus songs in this sermon. More proof that a good song is a good song - Jesus is a Soul Man. One of the Cousins’ favorites is the version by the Pathway Quartet - I compared it to the Otis Williams version in a previous post.
As for Sally, I think she’ll be happy up north. For some reason the Harry McClintock, Hallelujah I’m a Bum song pops in my head. Hallelujah, I’m a bum. Hallelujah, bum again. HalleluJAH, give us a handout, to revive us again. Well, as Bunny Wailer says, Time Will Tell. Good luck Sally, may Jesus and St. Patrick lead you down a good Country Road to help you be Reborn. Maybe there’s hope for you afterall. Then again, maybe Elvis was right.
I admit it: I use soulseek to augment my music collection. It might come from being a music writer for so long in this internet age, where I can see everything as “promos” or “research” (I might have to write about that EPMD album someday, or at least tie it in to Rhymeslayer). Anyway, it’s pretty normal (if illegal) now.
But the odd part, the part that didn’t exist before the internet (really, before Napster, but it’s more explicit on slsk) is the public laying bare of your music taste.
