Published on Apr 20, 1998
It’s not often I get excited about an artist just by reading
their bio. To be honest, I try not to put too much faith in
materials that are included with some of the review copies of discs
I get in the mail. But Dan Bern was different – here was someone
that was portrayed as outspoken, irreverent, and provocative – not
to mention having a great introspective view in his songs.
No sooner had I read his bio that I found myself tugging at the
shrinkwrap on his latest release
Fifty Eggs. I had to hear for myself if all of this was true
– if it was, he was a musician after my own heart. And while the
buildup is a tad strong – he’s not as outrageous as I would have
expected – Bern definitely is the Loudon Wainwright III of
Generation X, and deserves your attention.
Produced by alternative
chanteuse Ani DiFranco, Bern makes the most of his talents,
though it takes a song or two to get used to his style of singing.
Once you’ve digested “Tiger Woods” (a song that has little to do
with the golfer), the rest is easy. Even “Tiger Woods” isn’t a bad
track, one in which Bern claims “It ain’t braggin’ if it’s
true.”
The outrageousness comes when Bern dares to compare historical
stalwarts with the rest of us who are looking for a purpose in life
in the song “One Thing Real”. But far from being blasphemous, it
reminds us that we’re all basically in the same search for what
makes us complete.
His outspokenness continues on songs like “Cure For AIDS,” in
which Bern imagines the world once the cure is available in a pill
form. And if you think this is sacreligious, don’t yell at Bern –
such a concept has been around for some time. (If you want shock
value, check out “No Missing Link,” in which Bern offers his own
view of man’s evolution.)
But just as Bern challenges your view of the world with a slap
in the face on
Fifty Eggs, he also shows his mettle as a storyteller. On
“Oh Sister,” Bern tells of the importance of this person in his
life: “And where would Willie Mays have been / Without Jackie
Robinson / And who can say what I’d been / Without you to lead the
way.” It’s a song that I find myself returning to often. “Different
Worlds” dares to point out that even in “the great American melting
pot,” there is a lot that separates (in Bern’s example) blacks and
whites, but he points this out reverently.
And as much as DiFranco’s influence is important on
Fifty Eggs, one wonders how many mentions on the album is
enough. Bern mentions her name twice in songs (“Chick Singers” and
“One Dance”). Hey, isn’t it enough that I’m now intrigued enough to
check out some of DiFranco’s work? (In Bern’s defense, on “Chick
Singers,” he does well in remembering many artists whom rock fans
in general might not have paid much attention to in the past.)
But just as Loudon Wainwright III was dismissed as a joke
because of one stupid novelty hit in “Dead Skunk,” people might not
consider Bern to be serious because of the nature of some of his
music. To these people, I say you’ve missed the point entirely (and
in the case of Wainwright, you’re still missing the point). Bern
isn’t out there to make us laugh; he uses humor, explicit detail
and the like to get his message across, and for the most part, he
does an excellent job.
Biggest criticism: Why do artists continue to throw hidden
tracks on CDs? Granted, I didn’t have to wade through 40
three-second-long tracks of silence to get to the 13th song – but
this shit has to stop. Credit the track on the liner notes and get
it out of the way. (Sorry, but enough is enough – seems like I’m
running into this once a week these days.)
Fifty Eggs is a disc that should be given a fair shake by
both rock fans, alternative fans and even folk afficionados alike.
Bern has been clawing his way towards recognition with his
take-no-prisoners approach to the music – and it’s working.