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JOE PERNICE
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Maybe it was not so subliminal advertising on Joe Pernice’s part, or perhaps a proud emblem of dyed-in-the-wool Sox faithful fandom, or even a homesick gesture (he now lives in Canada with wife, Pernice Brothers pianist Laura Stein). But upstairs at the Middle East a week ago Thursday, the Red Sox jersey Pernice wore emblazoned with slugger/song subject Manny Ramirez’s name and number was the most visible indication that the South Shore native was on his home turf. No, he didn’t perform "Moonshot Manny," the novelty tune he wrote with Spouse frontman Jose Ayerve for the Farrelly Brothers’ Fever Pitch. Instead, the one-time leader of the Northampton alt-country outfit the Scud Mountain Boys delivered a relaxed, low-key 60-minute acoustic set — just what you’d expect from a guy happy to be back among old friends and haunts. "This is a good chance to dig up some old corpses, as they say," he quipped after opening with "Up in Michigan," from his 1999 Chappaquiddick Skyline Sub Pop album. He continued to ransack his back catalogue as if he were taking a drive through the old neighborhood, even pulling out the 1996 nugget "Grudje ****" from the Scuds’ Massachusetts album (also on Sub Pop). With a new Pernice Brothers album, Discover a Lovelier You, due later this month on the band’s own Ashmont imprint, Joe also offered some fresh specimens — sardonic bummers with apt titles like "Piss Hole in the Snow," "My So-Called Celibate Life," and "There Goes the Sun." Each married poisoned-dart lyrics to his satin-and-silk caress of a voice. The brighter the melody, the darker the message. Pernice always hangs his most emotionally desolate lyrics on his biggest hooks. Luminescent guitar chords often frame chilling meditations on regret and ruination, tales of plane crashes, and character sketches of ruined people who inevitably end up dead by the side of a road or in a suburban garage. He playfully described "Prince Valium" as a song about "a deeply rooted love of pills" before delving into the elegant yearning for oblivion. And if you think "Overcome by Happiness" is an upbeat tune, pay closer attention to the four words that precede the title on every chorus: "You don’t feel so . . . " Even when Bob Pernice joined his brother late in the set to add subtle, sculpted strokes of electric guitar, it did nothing to disturb the air of majestic misery.
BY JONATHAN PERRY
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