Thax

Revered Portland, Ore., folk-rock artist, M. Ward, is ready to begin his set. But first, a 46-year-old man with a wiry gray beard, baseball cap and khaki-colored jacket lumbers across the stage. Instead of lugging a guitar, this opening act is carrying a sheet of loose-leaf paper. Then, like a hot kernel of popcorn, a fan bursts aloud, “Thax!”

Thax Douglas is to Chicago’s small concert venues what Harry Carrey was to Wrigley Field. Since 1997, he’s recited more than 900 original poems dedicated to nearly 500 touring indie bands. He summarizes, “Most artists like what I do. Wilco has been saying for years that they’re going to bring me on tour with them. The Breeders were a little different. Kim Deal said, ‘Why are you writing this? You don’t know who I am!’ It was funny. For the most part, I only ask bands that I’m a fan of but it’s not a trophy thing.”

While many of Thax’s poems have been published in print and recorded on CD, his goal is not about statistics or accreditations. Instead, he aspires to become a traveling rock poet and, more importantly, he strives for “aesthetic satisfaction” during his readings. Recently, the infamous poet opened for the touring trio Bright Eyes, Jim James and M. Ward. Rather than deliver a flat or predictable description of M. Ward, Thax applied the spontaneity of Jack Kerouac with the literary sensibility of Flannery O’Connor and transformed him into an abstract caricature. His poem begins, “Cows, like shells, have the ocean inside of them.”

Thax translates, “The poem is about his voice. I could say that M. Ward is five feet, ten inches tall with black hair—and I sort of am doing that but in a metaphorical way. The audience may actually only hear one word out of 10, but there’s a telepathic performance moment when they get it. That’s why people want to see someone live and not just listen to the record. It’s about a communal experience.”