Yawn

I’m perfectly willing to admit when I make a mistake. After all, what could I possibly gain by going around being wrong? So I’d like to fess up to a mistake I made last night: I went to see Silver Jews. Hear me out, though, because I think my logic was sound.

Many people whose opinions I respect (or used to, at least) have told me over the years that I might like Silver Jews. For the most part, I didn’t pay attention to them, because I’m like that. I never listen much when people go on about music that they like because I know I probably won’t feel the same way. It’s not that I don’t want to hear it or that I’m being I’m contrary (not on these occasions, at least), I just don’t have a very impressionable ear. I’m not going to like something because somebody told me that it’s good, no matter how much detail they go into about why they like it.

Almost ten years ago, one of these people gave me a book of David Berman’s poetry, Actual Air, which lots of people who are into poetry really liked. I’m not really into poetry. I read some of it anyway. I don’t remember much about it. It’s safe to say that it didn’t change my life.

I saw Silver Jews at Pitchfork a couple years ago and I was not impressed then, either. I kept an open mind about it, though, because some bands just don’t translate in a festival setting and Silver Jews seem exactly like this sort of band. When I noticed that they were going to be playing at the Orange Show here in Houston, I figured I shouldn’t pass that up. I’ve enjoyed almost every show I’ve seen at the Orange Show, so this looked like a good opportunity to give Silver Jews a proper shot.

Well, we had a hurricane here last week. It knocked out power for most of the city. Maybe you heard. Since the Orange Show is a part of the city, it was without power and the Silver Jews show was moved to a bar, where other bands were already scheduled. With the new hurricane curfew in effect, all these bands had to play before midnight, which meant the show started early. This was actually a joy for me because I really don’t like hanging out at bars at all hours of the evening. Never have.

I thought I might enjoy this show. I had no reason not to. I thought some good music might be just the thing to distract me from the crappy week I’d been having. What I got was a bunch of mediocre indie rock with country tinges. Now, don’t get me wrong–I like plenty of mediocre indie rock with country tinges. The difference is that the mediocre stuff I like has good vocals. I especially like good harmonies. Silver Jews, though, are just incapable of delivering anything approaching good in the vocal department. Berman’s voice is as mellifluous as a leaf blower and he’s almost as charismatic*.

Lots of people seemed to enjoy the show. Many of them sang along. There was a thirty-something guy standing next to me in a civil war era military hat (looking just as dumb as you are imagining) who kept yelling out song titles. We’ll call him General Grant. When Silver Jews got to “Punks in the Beerlight,” their big closer (after cutting the set slightly short because of time constraints), General Grant sang along especially loudly: “I LOVE YOU TO THE MAX I LOVE YOU TO THE MAX I LOVE YOU TO THE MAX.” He was there by himself, by the way.

I should stress here that the show wasn’t bad. I could have a good laugh at something bad, so that wouldn’t feel like a total loss. This did feel like a total loss because Silver Jews commit the unpardonable sin: They are boring. Boring to the max.

*I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why Berman needed in-ear monitors. This type of monitor’s purpose is to help the singer keep his best pitch. Moreover, I’ve never seen anybody use them in such a small venue. Berman bleats his vocals, so pitch isn’t an issue. His wife didn’t feel the need for these things and she sang on pitch for her parts. It’s almost like they are an impediment for him.

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I noticed this week that John McCain was playing Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” at one of his rallies. Well, that’s not exactly the Nuge, but it’s getting there. I’m betting David Coverdale has no problem with the extra bit of exposure. Come to think of it, McCain could be on to something there. I bet there are plenty of washed up eighties bands who will gladly not sue him if they can get in a few plays. I wonder what those guys from Mr. Mister are doing now.