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A Happy Homecoming
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It was Joe Pernice’s homecoming, and he was dressed for the occasion. "I’m wearing my tie from high school," joked the Holbrook native after taking the stage with the Pernice Brothers at the Paradise last Thursday. It was also the band’s opportunity to bring their recently released Yours, Mine & Ours (Ashmont) — which eschews the meticulous orchestrations of their first two albums in favor of a looser, more propulsive strain of pop — to life on stage. Pernice is still given to wedding gorgeous melodies to downcast lyrics, but his latest batch of songs is his most upbeat yet. So in front of an audience peppered with faces from his past — including a woman who’d approached him before the show to say, "I think my mother taught you calculus" — the band prepared everyone for a spirited, exuberant performance with "One Foot in the Grave," one of the sunnier tunes on the new CD. This was a version of the Pernice Brothers that was missing several key players. Drummer Mike Belitsky’s place was taken by Pat Berkery from Philadelphia’s the Bigger Lovers, and keyboardist Laura Stein was replaced by James Walbourne, a lanky Brit who looked to be about 20. The most glaring absence was Joe’s older sibling Bob — the other Pernice brother. All Joe had to say on the subject was that Bob’s "guitars are all burned up in his house." Nevertheless, the band, driven by Thom Monaghan’s insistent bass lines, Peyton Pinkerton’s expressive guitar work, and Pernice’s breezy, emotive voice, eased their way through new tunes like "Weakest Shade of Blue" as well as tracks from 1998’s Subpop release Overcome by Happiness ("Clear Spot") and the 2001 Ashmont disc World Won’t End ("7:30"). Pernice was in great spirits throughout, peppering the set with amusing tales from his childhood. It was clear he was glad to be home, if only for a night, after five weeks on the road ("It’s so good to see Hood milk again"), especially since he and Stein are getting married in two weeks. He admitted that his fiancée has already asked him whether once they’re married his songs will continue to be as "sad" as they’ve been in the past. "I knew the answer," he said with a sly grin, "but I didn’t say the answer. ‘Of course not, honey.’ " Regardless of what he may have told Stein, his actions spoke louder than his words when he emerged alone with an acoustic guitar for the show’s encore and played "Silo," a desolate tune about arson and slaughter that dates back to his pre–Pernice Brothers days in the Scud Mountain Boys. When the rest of the band joined him, it was for the equally dismal "Flaming Wreck," a heartstopping account of an airplane’s fiery plunge. Pernice may be a happier guy these days — just not too happy.
BY MIKE MILIARD
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