Jeffrey Lewis & The Junkyard
'Em Are I
Rating: 3.0/5.0
Label: Rough Trade
Jeffrey Lewis is an interesting guy; an artist in both the sonic and visual spaces, he wears the singer/songwriter and comic book artist's hats with equal aplomb. Each medium informs the other, providing his music with bold lines and swatches of color and his comics with a wit and whimsy that seem melodic. It's said that there's a correlation between humor and music, since both take the idea of rhythm and pacing to deliver a message.
Of course, just because Lewis makes comics doesn't mean his music should be dismissed as jokey. On the contrary, on 'Em Are I, Lewis preoccupies himself with the unconquerable topics of life and love, often through the universal prism of humor. His loose, ramshackle band (The Junkyard is the perfect name for these guys) instills his heartfelt songs with both energy and tenderness, easily capable of conjuring acoustic punk and droning atmospherics. I'm told it's technically categorized as anti-folk; I say it's damn good music.
'Em Are I leads with two strong songs that illustrate The Junkyard's range and Lewis' worldview perfectly. The rocking "Slogans" begins with a rumbling bassline and scruffy guitar nabbed from a few decades back, before Lewis' untrained voice takes over (love them or hate them, his vocals are front and center for much of the album). Even lyrics like, "And I kept repeating it to myself/ 'Til I convinced myself it's true/ And everyone you meet is not better than you" are surprisingly easy to sing along with. The road-trip anthem "Roll Bus Roll" goes the opposite way musically, trading scrappy rock for a slow-burning acoustic number. Lewis sets his eyes on the details surrounding his character: "Midnight coming on a Monday night/ I'm gonna go again because I don't feel right/ Quick pack, knapsack, quick snack, quick train/ 42nd street, Greyhound again."
The record's standout moment comes early on. "Broken Broken Broken Heart" is a poppy, rollicking romp through the emotional roller-coaster that accompanies a breakup. Lewis' lyrics are all bold outlines and solid colors, communicating pain and self-questioning with simple, powerful words: "Broken broken broken glass/ Rattling inside my chest/ What am I to do with every empty day?/ I can't eat and I can't rest." The band keeps the tempo up, handclaps and background harmonies providing a sunny musical counterpoint to Lewis' tone. It's weird and it works wonderfully.
Lewis extends his reach past his familiar New York setting on tracks like "If Life Exists?" and "To Be Objectified," both homemade efforts to discover his place in a universe obviously much bigger than himself. He tackles the inevitable with a self-aware sense of humor, claiming "Going bald is the most manly thing I'm ever gonna do." "Whistle Past The Graveyard" shuffles along, seemingly skipping through the gravestones while questioning death and the afterlife with the same childlike wonder. It's infectious, chipper, and oddly appropriate in the same vein as "Broken Broken Broken Heart" before it.
Unfortunately, for everything the band does right, they include two tracks that slow the momentum to a near-stop. "The Upside-down Cross" (penned by bassist Jack Lewis) languishes for just over eight minutes and seems tailor-made for a b-side. Similarly, "Good Old Pig, Gone To Avalon" adds nothing to the record as a whole, instead focusing on goofy wordplay that adds nothing to the album.
Still, it's hard to fault a record for erring on the side of giving listeners more than they asked for. "It's hard to get too bored/ If you pick the right two chords, Lewis sings on "If Life Exists?" He's right.
by Jason Stoff