Monday, September 12, 2005

Sunshiney Sunshine

Jad Fair
(Independent)

This reviewer's girlfriend is completely precious. She asked me the other day, "I wonder who the girl was who loved you, yeah, yeah, yeah?" I laughed, and not just at her awkward phrasing. Everybody knows that the Beatles made up the girls in their songs. That's what pop bands do! Sixty-eight Beatles titles directly accuse the female gender (sixty-nine if you count Yoko). Any way you divide it, that's a lot of ladies.

Jad Fair's new online-only record, Sunshiney Sunshine, features six songs about women. Now, Jad has a number of traits (c.f. the glasses, the atonality, the Ann Arbor roots) that make this reviewer doubt that each of those songs was based on a separate, distinct girl. Nevertheless, you know that Jad isn't just making these songs up. You just know it. He's too sincere. Here is a man who vows that, should he fail to adhere to the highest standards of musical excellence in the recorded product he delivers to you, the listener, he will "shave [his] head and wear [his] clothes inside out for at least five years time." He means it, and it comes out on the record.

It must be said, however, that earnestness has always been Jad's greatest asset. Earnestness, rather than, for instance, musical imagination or technical competence. His primary endeavor, Half Japanese, launched a thousand four-tracks with its distorted, amateur songs, and the band's discography can be enjoyed quite apart from its intended function, simply as a thirty-year chronicle of one man's attempts to learn to play the guitar. Sunshiney Sunshine, a solo record, lets Jad explore a different sonic palette than the guitar, drums, and bass of Half Japanese, but listeners ought not to expect blistering solos from a studio axeman. He knows his sound, and he's sticking to it.

As a matter of fact, listeners need not expect any guitars at all. Sunshiney Sunshine features Jad trying out the least-appreciated aspect of his band's sound: his own voice. As such, it's recorded more or less a capella. This has some antecedents in Half Japanese's catalog (c.f. Half Gentlemen/Not Beasts' "Shi Yi Yi" or "I Ta Na Si Na Me Eee,"), but the idea is made even more primitive here. Gone are the thumping drums and solid-state distortion, under which Jad's vocal stylings were often buried. Here's it's Jad's voice, supported by Jad's voice, the latter warped and twisted so as to produce the kind of sounds this reviewer used to get with his pirated copy of Cool Edit back in high school. Fortunately, the expected Medulla comparisons don't hold up: in Bjork's case, the voice is the point. In Jad's, the voice is hoarse and monotone. Then again, in Bjork's case, the record is intended for sale...

This isn't to say that Sunshiney Sunshine gives us more of Jad's erstwhile tone poems. No, this record features only Sincere Jad. As such, we have "A Way About You," "I'm a Fan," and "Give the Best" (sample lyrics: "There are kisses from you, and hugs from you, and once before there's my neighbor, who would chase me around with a stick."). There's nothing to sway the nonbelievers ("Ooh, it's Jad Fair buys an Echo Machine!"), but that's okay. They wouldn't be able to appreciate the uplifting nature of these songs. Jad has, it seems, exorcized the angsty demons that haunted his earlier output. "Now," Jad assures us, "Things are Okay," and "Our Good Times are Back." Good on you, Jad, you've earned it.