DavidBerman’s latest is an album where the sleeve art outshines the record itself.Think of your most hated prog album (is it Yes’ Topographic Oceans? I bet it’s Yes’ Topographic Oceans) and you’ll get the picture. A beautifulsepia-tone painting depicting Babar (that’s right; the beloved elephant) amidstjagged rocks on a turbulent sea does however seem oddly appropriate forBerman’s post addiction/failed suicide attempt vision for his band.
And the tunesthemselves have their merits. Berman’s playful as ever with clever twists ofphrases and lo-fi hooks. It’s not so much a progression from 2005’s Tanglewood Numbers but more so acontinuation. Only this time there’s no Stephen Malkmus tossing off solos andlicks, pulling the Jews even further from the Pavement-side-project labelthey’ve often been hampered withboth a blessing for Berman and possibly adrawback for more narrow-minded fans.
Progressionmust be difficult for a band so closely entwined in one of indie-rock’sgreatest mythos. “Aloysius, Blugrass Drummer” comes off like a Ben Folds Fivepastiche when Berman’s stripped-down songwriting is coupled with technicalprecision (here a rollicking piano). Berman’s whiskey and milk voice has progressed, however. On thesix-minute “San Francisco B.C.” he sounds something like a Gen-x Johnny Cashfor a Dylanesque story song complete with fight scene and twist ending. Withits rolling beat it’s destined to become a live staple.
