Today, Frequency is dedicated to documenting the sad, endlessly enthralling songbook of Seattle’s Damien Jurado, who will perform Monday night in Bend. To see the whole series, click here. (Addendum: The man has too many great, sad songs for one day, so I’m extending “Sad song Sunday” into Monday.)

The show has begun down at the Tower Theatre, but my understanding is that Damien Jurado has not yet begun to play. (Please note that the time stamp on this post is wrong. I’m publishing an hour earlier than whatever it says.)

If I were you, I’d put on a sweater and head downtown right now.

Here’s the final installment of the series with the most ridiculously complicated name in the history of Frequency: “Sad song / Damien Jurado Sunday Monday.” It’s called “Simple Hello” and it first appeared on 1998′s “Gathered in Song” EP, although this version comes from Jurado’s 2005 album “On My Way to Absence.”

It is everything I love about the guy’s music: simple, heartfelt, and at least a little bit sad, but ultimately hopeful and undeniably hummable. If I haven’t convinced you to hit the Tower Theatre tonight, I hope I’ve at least opened your ears and mind to one of the most talented songwriters going these days.

(Special thanks to Jeff for pointing me to the video.)

Today, Frequency is dedicated to documenting the sad, endlessly enthralling songbook of Seattle’s Damien Jurado, who will perform Monday night in Bend. To see the whole series, click here. (Addendum: The man has too many great, sad songs for one day, so I’m extending “Sad song Sunday” into Monday.)

“Everything Trying” and “Last Rights,” both from 2008′s “Caught In the Trees.” That is all.

Today, Frequency is dedicated to documenting the sad, endlessly enthralling songbook of Seattle’s Damien Jurado, who will perform Monday night in Bend. To see the whole series, click here. (Addendum: The man has too many great, sad songs for one day, so I’m extending “Sad song Sunday” into Monday.)

The simple, devastating chorus of “Letters & Drawings” — from 1999′s “Rehearsals For Departure” — is the centerpiece of one of my favorite songs of all time:

“So I waited by the phone
to hear it ring”

Here’s a fine performance of it, after Damien has a little fun with the tired old encore routine.

Today, Frequency is dedicated to documenting the sad, endlessly enthralling songbook of Seattle’s Damien Jurado, who will perform Monday night in Bend. To see the whole series, click here.

Here’s another death-obsessed song from Jurado, called “Window” and taken from what might be his best record, 2003′s “Where Shall You Take Me?” (That’s might be. Might.)

It’s short, it’s somber and it’s stunningly gorgeous, especially in the video below, where harmony vocals are provided by Rosie Thomas. “Window” has an old-time, spiritual feel; as YouTube commenter cccharlie7 puts it: “this is how angels feel when they look at us.” (That is the first — and probably last — time you will ever see me quoting a YouTube comment.)

Today, Frequency is dedicated to documenting the sad, endlessly enthralling songbook of Seattle’s Damien Jurado, who will perform Monday night in Bend. To see the whole series, click here.

Not all of Damien Jurado’s songs are about lost love. Some are about death. (And some are about both.)

Take a listen to “Tonight I Will Retire,” an intensely spare song from 2000′s “Ghost of David,” in which the central character contemplates suicide with the hope of going to Heaven, though he’s not 100-percent sure of his fate. “If I should taste fire,” Jurado sings at the close of the song, “save me not. I deserve to die.”

Way back in the summer of 2009, I started what was to be a regular Frequency series called “Sad song Sunday,” wherein I would post a sad song on Sundays.

I haven’t done one since. But with singer-songwriter extraordinaire and master of the downcast Damien Jurado coming to Bend on Monday night, I think it’s time to revive the series. I’m declaring today “Damien Jurado Sunday” on this blog, which is basically synonymous with “Sad song Sunday.” Stay tuned for a bunch of the man’s finest, most forlorn tunes.

First up, it’s the lost-love tale “Ohio,” the opening track from Jurado’s amazing second album, 1999′s “Rehearsals For Departure.”