What I really want to do in reviewing the new Jeffrey Lewis album is just to transcribe the lyrics to the entire thing. Actually, I have. They’re up on the Jeffrey Lewis message board now. Read them and you should be able to make up your mind.… Okay, okay, I know, making up minds is supposed to be my job. You know Jeffrey Lewis already, right? He’s the adorable-existential-witty-socialist-intenselyvulnerable singer-poet-comicbookartist from the same New York anti-folk scene that gave us The Moldy Peaches and Regina Spektor. Without wanting to make it seem like this review is totally biased from the off, I suggest that if you haven’t heard him yet you buy all his albums, listen to them obsessively until every word is etched on your soul, and then follow him round on every date of his next tour. In an entirely non-creepy way, of course.
Anyway, after the diversion of 2007′s 12 Crass Songs, in which Jeffrey and friends set about transforming a dozen of the 70s anarcho-hardcore band’s screeds into folk-punk sing-songs, this is the first “proper” Jeffrey Lewis album since 2005′s City and Eastern Songs. That album was co-written by Jeffrey’s brother Jack, who lent a number of songs on the album an edgier quality with crashing electric guitars. This album is more ambiguously co-credited “& the Junkyard”, presumably meaning any of Jeffrey’s friends who could and did help out; as such, only one song on the album bears an obvious Jack influence (made more unmistakable by the introduction two minutes in: “This song was written by Jack; it’s called ‘The Upside-Down Cross’”), with the rest tending towards Jeffrey’s (usually) gentler and more contemplative style.
People paying close attention to Jeffrey Lewis’ goings-on will probably recognise at least one or two songs here, as with such a long gap between albums and an often pretty busy live schedule, over half have reared their heads in some form or another over the past few years. Between these and the remaining songs, you have everything you want from a classic Jeffrey Lewis album. There’s musings on the minutiae of life, and there’s bold declarations on the nature of human existence. There’s heartfelt and deeply vulnerable pleas and confessionals, and there’s whimsical nonsense, and then often there’s both at the same time. There’s hilarious, there’s sad, there’s touching, there’s hopeful, there’s heartbreaking and soul-piercing. Actually, there’s a lot of the latter, something deeply personal and timelessly true captured in the smallest observation or an offhand quip.
The album starts on a lively note with ‘Slogans’, combining a celebratory racket with a shockingly earnest and beautiful rallying call for anyone who too easily believes the worst about themselves: “I kept repeating it to myself ’til I convinced myself it was true, and everyone you meet is not better than you”. Then ‘Roll Bus Roll’, a meditative tale of road trips and a contemplation on the need to keep going to make sure everything will be okay: “And then the sun setting on my youth makes that old shadow get taller, oh, but it’s all fine as long as the bus makes the city behind me get smaller and smaller”. The third song, ‘If Life Exists’, extends this theme, grieving and celebrating one’s helplessness at the hands of one’s emotions (“Now I am more happy and I wish I was more happy… But emotions in the brain, they’ll always be the same”) and reaching contentment through a focus on music. ‘Broken Broken Broken Heart’ is just what it says on the tin, in Jeffrey’s own unmistakable style: a plaintive expression of deep sorrow and guilt in cheerful sing-song form (with handclaps, no less).
Fifth song ‘Whistle Past the Graveyard’ moves a little away from the immediately personal and onto grander questions of life and, in particular, death. A fast paced acoustic number, it combines the ridiculous – hurrah, the zombies are back! “I don’t want to hear the corpses talk… Or discuss how much they want to eat my brain”) – with off-the-cuff thoughts on the meaning or lack thereof of life: “Some people say life is empty… Some say I’m wrong and I’ll die and go to hell, but I’d be happy just knowing there was a point so it’s just as well”. Next is the single – there’s a cute video if you care to look on Youtube – ‘To Be Objectified’, a celebration of human insignificance and a return to the theme of finding value in the little things.
The musical centrepiece of the album is the aforementioned ‘The Upside-Down Cross’, a dark, sprawling and insistent eight-minute song in which Jeffrey and Jack share vocals. It provides a change of pace both musically, all brooding metallic guitars, crashing pianos and urgent shouted vocals, and lyrically, a tale of romantic activism around the world and romantic failure in a personal world. Where in ‘The Upside-Down Cross’ the protagonist is the centre of the universe, this is immediately countered by ‘Bugs & Flowers’, another gentle consideration of humanity’s insignificance.
But wait! There is a low point! ‘Good Old Pig, Gone to Avalon’ is a somewhat misjudged piece of nonsense reminiscing about a wonderful, er, pig. That said, it perhaps depends on one’s taste in silliness: I wasn’t complaining when Jeffrey was singing about the zombie apocalypse. But then, that was teaching us a lesson we’ll one day all need to know, whereas most of the people reading this will probably never meet a pig.
‘It’s Not Impossible’ is quiet and sad but subtly optimistic, a tiny revelation that what was once believed impossible isn’t necessarily so, and can be applied to anything you like. Finally, the album is finished with a long and sweet recounting of “Minnie the Moocher”‘s adventures around the galaxy, which can either be taken as a nonsense tale or mined for hidden metaphors as you see fit.
Overall, the album is, of course, beautiful. It maintains the consistency of quality seen on Jeffrey’s last album, whilst containing more heart-piercing moments than any other. By all rights it should secure a special place in anyone’s heart (and in eight months’ time, their end-of-year lists).
86%
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Wow. I thought this album was a complete disappointment.
Why? Just intrigued, as I really can’t see why anyone who previously liked Jeffrey Lewis – unless they only particularly liked the loud, discordant numbers – wouldn’t love this…
The short – it’s a bit wanky.
The long – http://asheq.co.uk/2009/03/19/jeffrey-lewis-and-the-junkyard/
I think all our reviews should now follow the above!
“The Short = xxxxx”
“The Long = xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx”
:-)
Angelica – you say it’s your job? You get paid for this? …I didn’t think so. Jeez.. you give them the internet and they think they can write a freakin’ opus.
Firstly… the opening paragraph? I… I just don’t understand why it’s there.
And as for the track-by-track breakdown, that’s a bit taboo in music reviews isn’t it? It appears you’re supporting the demise of the “album” as a collection of songs, which is a great shame: This track is good, this one isn’t. Buy this one from iTunes, but don’t by this one. Describe the album as a piece of work, if you want to review tracks individually I believe there is still such a thing as a single?
But I may be wrong. (Only on whether singles still exist, mind).
I guess my point is: who are you writing this for? Why is it a review on a music site? Why is it not a positing on the Jeff Lewis message board because you only actually seem to be writing it for people who are fans already:
“But wait! There is a low point!”
– because everyone was expecting it to be a perfect album because it’s Jeffrey Lewis and everyone loves him?
“Overall, the album is, of course, beautiful.”
- why of course? Why was it ever assumed?!
Personally I love this album, but reviews like this, although positive, can be damaging for the artist.
That’s the oddest agreement I’ve ever read.
Angelica, I liked your review :) Jeffrey Lewis instore at Pure Groove next Tuesday, woop woop!
Ash:
I like the presence of The Upside-Down Cross, but I can see why someone’d think that. But yr complaint that the album is bordering on “wanky, pretentious and elitist” seems to be based only on that song. No? I can’t think of any other song on the album that… well, isn’t the precise opposite of that.
Andy:
I think the part from “Between these…” to “… quip”, and the comments on the tracks, explain why “of course”, and the “there is a low point” is mentioned because – well, there hadn’t been a low-point up until then.
I can see the objection to a track-by-track review; it’s not a format I’d usually use. However, I thought that the album was special enough to deserve a fine comb for those who want it (and Jeffrey is a very TLOBF-friendly artist), but think there’s still enough to get a reasonable idea about it if you skim the detail.
And thank you, Anika! Full gig in just over a week here in Cambridge, yayyayyay.
I refer to the track as “a pretentious piece of eight minute toss”.
Wanky and elitist refers to the cool, groovy, exclusive scene of anti-folksters. So hip, it hurts. Oooow!
I can totally see why someone would label, say, Adam Green as elitist and self-consciously hip, and perhaps a number of followers of anti-folk too, but Jeffrey? The overwhelming impression I’ve always got from him is that he’s one of the most genuine and unaffected personalities in music. In fact, the only person I can think of who seems more so is another anti-folker – Kimya.
I agree with you Angelica. Jeffrey Lewis is a wonderful man, antifolk is not exclusive and also, Jack Lewis knows how to dance!
The only pretentiousness I sense here is the pretentiousness of wankers like Ash and Andy.
Ash: your opinion on music seems to be dictated by the type of people who listen and enjoy it more so than whether or not you enjoy it yourself. What… you’re too cool and nonchalant and insecure to enjoy a live show and dance a little? Hypocrite. This music, which I don’t quite like as much as other folksters out there, is pure and not even the slightest bit pretentious, unlike you… cool guy.
Andy: an album IS a collection of songs. Viewing music only as a conceptual holy grail conglomerate of awesomeness is no worse than viewing music as a singular unit. Sure music is art but its also entertainment. There’s nothing wrong with terseness or commerce or quick satisfaction. Is a single no less enjoyable than an entire album?
A question for both of you: why do you listen to music?
Calvin – fuck off you flaccid twat.