Why do I like that? It's a question that comes up often in my overcharged brain. I listen to a lot of music, pretty much continuously throughout the day. In the course of my reviewing and listening-for-pleasure activities, the answer seems to drop into one of two classes. The more straightforward category contains all of the usual suspects, including familiarity, a pleasing beat, a nice melody, a shining lyric. Think of this as the "Louie, Louie" response. It might be an over-simplification, but you get the basic idea.

More interesting is the big mystery — when you are drawn in by a sound fragment, chord, dissonant point, harmony, or group of words that don't want to explain themselves directly. Everyone has had these moments. A song begins, or maybe a portion of it floats from a car window, and it seems like every art-oriented part of you being wants to snap into alignment. It's almost always an elevating, euphoric feeling. But the question remains, where does it come from?

Investigating the phenomenon can be a tricky business. I once wrote an article that attempted to describe what sometimes happens to me when listening to instrumental music. It's a kind of synesthesia, though in my case I don't associate sound with colors. Instead, three-dimensional landscapes are generated in real time. Somebody made a joking comment about drug use but I was quite serious. The interplay between instruments becomes a physical relationship, with one sound-producing element providing a "surface" while others "fly" over that surface. I'll admit that it's weird but there's not much that can be done about it.

Except to write about it. That's what I'll be doing here. You should know that while I am also a musician (guitar), I almost never think about music in technical terms. Oh sure, there are key centers, scales, modes, modulations, and all of that, but they don't come to mind when I'm listening. Is that an odd thing for a musician? Maybe, but that kind of analysis doesn't work for me.

And to get things going, let's talk about Jandek? Who? He's an "outsider" musician from Texas. In fact, he's so "outsider" that most people have never heard of him. They haven't heard his records either. I discovered him from a book about musical outsiders written by Irwin Chusid called Songs In The Key Of Z. Upon hearing his music, I came to the conclusion that Chusid (and many, many others) was right: Jandek's "songs" seem to have no discernible melody, rhythm, or structure. Is that why I like it so much? Or is it just that it's all so odd?

After many years of listening, I've come to the conclusion that a big attraction for me is the man's single-mindedness of purpose. He does what he does, completely independent of any outside influence. That's something that almost never happens in modern times.

 Instigating material: Jandek -  Chair Beside A Window.