Published on Jan 9, 2004
Now here’s a band that lends itself to metaphor.
With taffy melodies that stretch and twist, the Pernice Brothers
lay dreamy guitar licks over a steady backbeat as Joe Pernice’s
breathy tenor leads the way, a lighthouse beacon cutting through a
thick fog.
Or did I mean similie? Listening to this band is like listening
to the Jayhawks on an acid bender, to The Band through a spinning
kaleidoscope, or to the bastard child of the Byrds and Roger Waters
exorcising his every romantic demon.
Psychedelic Americana? Spaced-out jangle-pop? Yup, that too.
Pernice Brothers is primarily a vehicle for singer-songwriter
Joe Pernice’s lush, intriguing compositions. However, the band —
brother Bob Pernice (guitar), Peyton Pinkerton (guitar), Thom
Monahan (bass/production), Laura Stein (keyboards) and Mike
Belitsky (drums) – is a large, tight unit, giving the group, at
least in the sense of their creative architecture, somewhat of a
Counting Crows vibe.
As for the music, it’s pretty cool stuff, once you adapt to this
band’s distinctive approach. Despite the strong backbeats of tracks
like “The Weakest Shade Of Blue,” “Water Ban” and “Sometimes I
Remember,” there are virtually no hard edges here; it’s all soft
curves and supple melodies. The heavier tracks feature eloquent
guitar lines over a thumping rhythm section, yet still manage to
come off ethereal and haunting (I keep thinking Cowboy Junkies, but
the Pernice Brothers somehow turn the trick of being almost as
pretty, yet considerably heavier).
The lyrics are impressionistic poetry (“So familiar that it
feels too strange, give a name to this terrifying change”) that’s
typically introverted and serious (“…so close, you sleep /
And I don’t always mind the quiet that it brings”), but
occasionally adds in a dash of irony (“I’ll save you from the
dreamy life”…not). There’s an edge of despair to songs like
“Baby In Two” and “How To Live Alone” (not to mention anger in the
closing “Number Two,” in which Joe calls his ex a “life-sucking
power monger”…tell us how you *really* feel), but the
brightness of the melodies inevitably counterbalances Pernice’s
darker obsessions.
If there’s a flaw here, it’s the distance between band and
audience that’s sometimes created by the somewhat gauzy production.
That adds to the dreaminess of memorable tracks like “Blinded By
The Stars,” to be sure, but I guess I’m one of those
ear-candy-addicted listeners who prefers a punchier, more
three-dimensional sound. Admittedly, this is a matter of taste.
This is a unique and rewarding album that should appeal to
anyone who enjoys jangly rock with a distinctive point of view. As
distant as the Pernice Brothers are musically from the acerbic
guitar-pop of bands like Fountains of Wayne, they share a certain
aesthetic — a belief that rock and roll can be used as a vehicle
to express serious ideas and convey real, complicated emotions.
Yours, Mine & Ours is well worth giving a spin, a
languid yet intense dreamscape that will cling to your imagination
for hours after the music fades.