Garbo Laughs, Jandek Smiles.

CARROLL GARDENS, NY – “HollahollaHOLLA!” screamed the formerly reclusive Texan as he bounded up through the audience, shaking hands and even turning a moderately successful cartwheel.  “Brooklyn, lemme hear you make some NOYEEEEZE!  Jandek is in the HIZZouse!”

The sparkle from his sequined jacket gave off just a little less light than the man’s legendary smile; his warm, soft Scandinavian features seemed to hug the whole room.  For a second, there, I thought I might be on the set of an old Andy Williams Christmas special, just another extra lounging on some strategically-tossed throw pillow, a well-tended fireplace crackling in the background.

Jandek plucked a few notes from a well-tuned ukulele, nodded around to his band – a twelve piece that included three soulful African-American back-up singers, an accordionist, and a mule – and launched into some of the most beautiful chamber-pop my ears have ever...

Okay.

I’m sorry.  It’s just that last night I went straight from the Issue Project Room – where I did, indeed, See Jandek – to the Warsaw, where everyone was clapping their hands and saying yeah.  It was a bad idea, and I kind of knew that before it all played out.  This morning, my sensibilities are all messed up.  For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking that the National sounded an awful lot like Hothouse Flowers and that their lead singer looked like a scruffy, young Richard (Empty Nest) Mulligan.

After I get fitted with a neck brace for my musical whiplash, I’ll talk about the actual shows.  But I will say this:

Jandek DID smile.  Twice.

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