The Pernice Brothers @ Black Cat
Perhaps you’ve been to one of those shows where the crowd – for whatever reason – keeps a ten foot distance between themselves and the stage. We’ve seen it before (last summer’s Clientele show at Iota comes to mind), but it baffles us every time. Seems to be that those expecting a night of folk-pop or softer stuff don’t want to get too close to the stage, lest they embarrass the performer or something.
Luckily, The Pernice Brothers seem like the kind of guys who don’t get fazed very easily. They hit the Black Cat Wednesday night on the last leg of a tour in support of their latest, Live a Little, and quietly turned in one of the strongest performances we’ve seen this year. One of the more underrated bands these days, they’re not the kind that jumps out at you. Their strong latest release got shafted a little by a certain online music site, probably because often times, their recorded material comes off too glossy, with lead singer Joe Pernice’s vocals too treated and none of the understated hooks standing out from the mix.
Live, the band had a lot more bounce in their step right from the onset, with the opening Phil Spector drum-thump of “High as a Kite” and the rollicking breakup tune “Weakest Shade of Blue." Somehow – probably to the disbelief of the great majority of the DCist readership – the Black Cat managed to make their even blend of folk, pop, and twang sound great. Pernice’s formal, annunciated delivery came through loud and clear, and the electric guitars were perfectly crisp and with just enough crunch throughout.
Of course, that Pernice had behind him a virtual all-star team of East Coast power-pop – Patrick Berkery (also of Mazarin and the now-defunct Bigger Lovers) on drums and Peyton Pinkerton (of Boston stalwarts New Radiant Storm King) on guitar joining José Ayerve on bass and James Walbourne on guitar, keys, and sax – helped a lot. To put it bluntly, these songs don’t always sell themselves. Pernice tends to play his melodic cards close to his chest, dealing more in craftsmanship and subtlety than in big, meaty hooks. But with a kickass band behind him – albeit one that you can tell would just love to break loose once in a while – every detail gets nailed.
Above all, The Pernice Brothers proved last night that detail and intricacy are a compliment to great songwriting, not a substitute for it. So many indie pop bands are content to fill their songs with a hundred potential hooks, then beat you over the head with “ba-ba-ba” backup vocals, quirky synth lines, and clanging toy percussion.
Count the Pernice Brothers, then, as a reliable torchbearer for classicist pop. “Conscience Clean” had a delightful Byrdsian jangle to go with its lovelorn plea. “Baby in Two” was nearly Britpop, sans all that annoying overblown romanticism, and the there was even echoes of U2 in the Edge-like searing guitar lines of set closer “Flaming Wreck,” which ramped up to a full-blown guitar workout by the end.
But the night’s undeniable highlight was the spare and gorgeous, “PCH1.” Opening with just light acoustic strumming and Pernice’s voice, the band gradually joined in, first with just a few finger snaps and then backup vocals, leading into a sprightly country-folk shuffle and culminating with a brief but memorable sax solo. All the while Pernice was singing about grabbing his girl, getting out of town together, and trying to make things work – or something like that. Whatever it was, he hit on something sad and touching, and all that pretty noise built gradually until Berkery stopped the band straight on a dime.
The highlight of "PCH1" was nearly matched on a night of remarkable consistency. First, "Automaton" – which would be hailed as a great Village Green-era Kinks homage if the Shins hadn't swiped the same moves so recently – strutted through verse and chorus before introducing a jagged, repeating guitar figure that gave the smooth pop a rough edge. Then their fine new single "Somerville," which somehow makes the phrase "Don't care if she's pretty / as we leave Suck City, yeaahh" work, got heads bobbing to its addictive chorus and spot-on George Harrison solo.
There's often something unfulfilling about the droves of indie pop upstarts getting lots of buzz for their quirky but catchy tunes. All that catchiness kind of hits you right away, but ten minutes later you're left wanting a little more. The Pernice Brothers are the kind of band that make you stop and wonder: if you're hungry for some pop nourishment, why settle for candy bar when you can get a home-cooked meal?