| |
- Pernice Brothers
Yours, Mine & Ours
Ashmont Records
By Steve Cooper
 Maybe
I'm not the right guy to review this release. After all, I've
owned precious few albums by Joe Pernice's biggest influence,
Morissey. I have no knowledge of Pernice's former group, the
"alt-country" band The Scud Mountain Boys. There are
stacks of albums I don't own by such '80s and '90s pop icons
as the Pixies, the Replacements, and . . .and . . .hell, I can't
even think of another new wavish pop group. Basically, I'm not
large on pop sheen and angst. However, I do know when music,
pop or otherwise, sucks. The Pernice Brothers do not suck.
Okay, so this is "sensitive boy" pop. Joe Pernice's
smoky voice sounds like a cross between Morissey and the Zombies'
lead singer, Colin Blunstone. It's breath-ish, pouty, and oh-so-bruised.
The lyrics are unabashedly youthful hair-shirt: "I'm as
lonely as the Irish Sea and as willing as the sand/Could it be
so wrong, so wrong/Won't you come unbury me?" And, the
music? Well, musically, Joe Pernice can deliver the groceries.
This is the type of music that causes critics to use words like
"shimmering" and "gorgeous." The tempo is
ever slow and dreamy. Pernice never "rocks the house."
There's a bit too much of the old Morissey dirge at times, but,
more often than not, the melodies are inviting and well supported
by appealing instrumental touches and intricate vocal harmonies.
Brother Bob Pernice backs up on guitar and harmonies, as does
producer/guitarist/bassist Thom Monahan. The band has yet another
guitarist in Peyton Pinkerton (also listed as the band's cook).
Laura Stein is the keyboardist, but is most evident on high
harmony singing. The songs are guitar driven, with simplistic,
two-chord-change bass. On some songs, someone (Bob Pernice?
Monahan? Pinkerton? Your name here?) is playing some quality,
weeping slide guitar. The Sadies' drummer Mike Belitsky provides
what bash there is.
In pre-rap MTV days, the opening cut of Yours, Mine &
Ours, "The Weakest Shade of Blue," could have seen
heavy rotation, provided it accompanied a quick-cut, moody, ultimately
nonsensical video. Moved along by an unadorned bass and guitar
line, Joe Pernice's high, whispery vocal is beautifully buoyed
by full, shifting background vocals, usually singing either "ahhhhhhhhhhh"
or "oohhhhhhhhhhhhh." Gentle ladies and sensitive
men, the Pernice Brothers present . . . pop music, layered, sparkling,
and purty.
"Water Ban" is rescued from over-Morrisey-izing
by a cool slide guitar riding over the top, and also by some
equally cool, watery, Dick Dale-like guitar in between the cracks.
"One Foot in the Grave," however, succumbs to Smith-i-ness.
Pernice even whines like Morissey. As a Smith song, it would
have been okay, but it's a bit too close for comfort. Still,
the harmonies do fetch toward the end of the song.
"Baby in Two," a lyrical nod to King Solomon, cops
a bit of David Essex's (remember him?) "Rock On" groove,
even borrowing the "hey, kid, rock and roll" line.
Oh, and it is a fine song, despite the minor pilfering. In
fact, it is my fab, gear, groovey, pop fave on the album. The
lyric finds the protagonist in an on-off-on love affair, longing
for the definitive King Solomon solution of cutting the "baby"
(the love) in two. Pernice's falsetto on the "cut the baby
in two" chorus is especially winning, worthy of a Brian
Wilson . . . well, maybe a Supertramp.
"Judy" is another Morissey rip, but I don't care,
it's "gorgeous." The lyric even meanders, wordily,
and (sort of) makes sense, like Morissey: "Tonight is long,
the television's on so soft, so low/She fills the screen, ruby
and emerald green so close, you sleep/And I don't always mind
the quiet that it brings/So let's pretend our lives will never
end, somehow, some way." Not exactly "Wild thing/You
make my heart sing" but effective, nonetheless. Pernice
sings in Morrisey-onian minor keys and sounds almost as effeminate,
but no matter, the lilting, simple melody wins the day. Flick
your Bics and sway with the Pernice Brothers.
And then the album, ten dreamy cuts later, is over. One layered,
"shimmering" song bumps into another into another into
another, like song cycles in a symphonic whole. Ultimately,
Yours, Mine & Ours is one musical piece. Sonically,
if not lyrically, it is a pop opera. Joe Pernice can write 'em.
Now, if he'd just lean away from Morissey a little and lean
toward Brian Wilson . . .
*www.pernicebrothers.com
Contact Steve Cooper at: cooper-at-rockzilla.net
|
|
