LP Review: Pernice Brothers - Who Will You Believe

Pernice Brothers

Who Will You Believe

(New West) NewWestRecords.com

During frequent listens to Pernice Brothers albums like Yours, Mine and Ours, Discover a Lovelier You and Goodbye, Killer, it sometimes feels as if Joe Pernice is rewriting the same couple songs with different lyrics. But it doesn't matter because they sound like some of the greatest songs ever written. If Pernice - the main driver behind the band that includes just one of siblings - isn't coming up with heart-rendering chord progressions built in layers, he's crooning over them in a voice that could be alternately soothing, weary or hopeful, often reaching into an upper register for the right amount of pathos. 

Pernice has always been a master at delivering sharp imagery in a line or two. To list just a few personal favorites: "Won't you come away with me and begin some thing we can't understand"; "If I was the only one and you were the last alive/ would we sit there like the amateurs and watch our days go by/ waiting for the universe to die"; "Scratched your farewell couplet in my window frost." Then there's his skill at merging high brow and low brow, as in the song about being obsessed with someone reading both Ford Maddox Ford and Jacqueline Susann. (I believe the latter inspired a song of mine, at least as a starting point.)

In an interview included with the live Nobody's Watching CD, the singer confesses a fondness for the Best of Bread 8-track tape that belonged to his mom. Part of me nearly died, wondering how this literate tunesmith took inspiration from David Gates' limpid music. Then I heard a few of Bread's hits again. While I'm still not fond of "Baby I'm-A Want You" or "It Don't Matter to Me," the power of their pop structures and the falsetto middle eights can't be denied.

Who Will You Believe includes a song that checks off all the boxes required for a strong country song about good loving that has died. For starters, it's called "I Don't Need That Anymore." He doesn't have to elaborate on what "that," is, because the rest of the song spells it out. Playing Dolly to his Porter is no less than Neko Case, who brightens up the second verse. There are plenty of ways to say it's over, but among the images used here, the best might be "I don't feel the pull of sirens singing anymore." Nashville needs that song.

The only thing absent from the track is a third verse, in which Pernice and Case could have harmonized together. Sure, that might override the point of the song but it could have driven it home, musically. That missing lyrical element also affects songs during the first half of the album. A number of them throw out a few good lines but their storylines get blunted by refrains that pop up too frequently. None are bad songs, but it feels like they could have done more.

"December In Our Eyes" really nails the '70s soft rock arrangement, with electric piano, congas and mellow trumpet. Here, Pernice's storytelling skills get a workout, but the song's instrumental coda, complete with strings, could have faded sooner. On the other hand, the six-string solo in "Hey, Guitar" threatens to turn the scene into Mott the Hoople's "Rock and Roll Queen," a touchstone that feels accurate what with the song's trick ending, which evokes Mott's early album studio tricks.

Seven different guitarists are credited on the album, including Pernice and brother Bob, though personnel is listed collectively. When our hero goes it alone with just his acoustic guitar on the last three tracks, at least at the start of each one, these songs have the most dramatic impact. "Ordinary Goldmine" follows "I Don't Need That Anymore" and feels like it picks up where the other left off.

"The Purple Rain" could be another break-up song but sources have indicated it might be for friends that have passed. In keeping with the feeling, strings and a brass ensemble ease into the arrangement before a literal choir chimes in for the final chorus. Rather than rise to a dramatic crescendo, however, the song doesn't overplay the feeling and ends calmly. If "The Purple Rain" is about friends that have gone, it might be the most poignant song of Pernice's career. If not, it still hits hard. 

Between both of those tracks, "How Will We Sleep" includes another telling line: "Growing old seemed like death to me when I was young/ Now I want to grow old/ And I want to belong." Playing indie music isn't just for kids, as well all know. But composing it, and ruminating about the passage of time can be a challenge. As Who Will You Believe fades, it's clear that Pernice has a handle on both.