Jeffrey Lewis & The Junkyard, Oxford Art Factory, Sydney

JEFFREY LEWIS & THE JUNKYARD
WIFEY
LITTLE LOVERS
Oxford Art Factory
10/03/10

The first of two Sydney-based support acts, Little Lovers played upbeat indie rock with an occasional country feel. The trio’s songs were unpretentious and often rather catchy. Wifey’s set was slightly less vivacious but the grown-up melodic tunes were a nicely dreamy way to take the edge off lyrics about frontman Andy Calvert contemplating chopping his penis off.

Three-piece Jeffrey Lewis & The Junkyard (of which Jeffrey’s brother, Jack, is the bassist) took to the stage minus set-list and treated the audience to a hugely entertaining 90 minutes. Purists may scoff at Lewis’ beaten up old guitar and his less than perfect vocal, but they would be missing the point. Disarmingly affable, the New-Yorker was recently described by none other than Jarvis Cocker as “The best lyricist working in the US today,” and he soon set about proving this with a collection of varied songs that ranged from touching to hilarious while always connecting with the audience through everyday truths.

There were punky rock outs and gentler - really wordy - acoustic numbers that showcased his writing talents, as themes of self-doubt, lost love and depression were treated with sincerity and humour. He told fantastical stories about various ways he could commit suicide (while suggesting that Pitchfork would only give his death 3.6 out of 10), played old classics like The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane and sang simple ditties about things like moving house (“You’re not sure, but you’re going to claim the blinds were busted like that when you came,”). He even gave a lecture called The Complete History of the Development of Punk Rock on the Lower East Side Of New York City from 1950-1975, which was performed entirely in rhyming couplets interspersed with snippets of covers from the likes of The Velvet Underground and Patti Smith. There were also projected slide-shows set to music, most notably the genuinely interesting history of the legend of Native American, Sitting Bull.

So all this begs the question, why was the venue half empty? No wonder the Sydney live scene is struggling if people won’t part with $25 for a show as inventive, intimate, intelligent and downright feel-good as this. Still, those who were there left happy in the knowledge that they had been in the presence of a genius. And a humble, self-deprecating genius at that.