I had somewhat forgotten about Jad Fair over the years. After watching Half Japanese: The Band That Would Be King years ago, and being rather touched by the story behind Jad and his bandmates, not to mention their music, I’ve been unable to find much by way of recent activity. Then I heard he was playing in my hometown, Austin. Jad Fair live: this should get interesting, and interesting turned out to be an understatement.

With shoulder-length, gray hair and that same honest and unforced smile, Jad and his band tore through songs about dresses, ferris wheels and monsters, Jad playing a custom-made guitar, detuned to basically nothing and bending the neck to create some very interesting sounds and a cool, happy vibe ensued. There were probably 25 people in the audience, which was a bit sad that the room wasn’t packed because it’s a show I’ll never forget.

SPONSOR

The Tinklers suck, but that’s what makes them so great. Their atonal, monotonous singing, and nearly non-existent musicianship have certainly won them some virulent detractors, but their unabashed niceness has attracted just as many loyal fans. Much in the vein of Half Japanese and Daniel Johnston, the Baltimore duo has plunked out silly, out-of-tune folk and pop numbers for 30 years, becoming indie icons in the process. Charles Brohawn and Chris Mason are classic underdogs, plugging on against all odds, and their harshest critics miss the point of what they do. A recent documentary about them, Everybody Loves the Tinklers, explores the impact the band has made, and addresses the controversial space they occupy in pop culture.