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.

Jeffrey Lewis at La Maroquinerie, Paris

JEFFREY LEWIS
CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE
La Maronquinerie, Paris
10/05/09

The first noticeable thing about watching support band, Casiotone For The Painfully Alone, in the small downstairs room of a venue on the outskirts of Paris, was just how respectful the audience was. There was none of this chattering business you experience during warm-up acts in London or Sydney. The crowd was completely attentive throughout. There was plenty to pay attention to as well, as the Americans played a set that sounded frighteningly reminiscent of Digital Ash In a Digital Urn-era Bright Eyes. And there's nothing wrong with that, especially when it's done as well as this.

New York-based singer/songwriter Jeffrey Lewis chatted with fans as he sold copies of his albums and comic books from the merch stall (and made me blush like a schoolgirl by telling me he liked my T-shirt) before taking to the stage with his band, The Junkyard (which included brother Jack on bass). The 90-minute set was a mixture of old and new, as Artland and Posters rocked the shit out of the room, Heavy Heart and Bugs and Flowers were sweet and acoustic and The Upside Down Cross (written by Jack) was a woozy psych jam. As is the way with Jeff Lewis shows, he employed a projector to give a lecture about the history of Communism (it's way more fun than it sounds). This was episode five, and was about Korea. Similarly to when I've seen him before, I learnt more about Communism in those five minutes than in my entire school life.

There were other slide-shows too, including Jack's tale of a horse that was sent to the electric chair, and the show ended with the story of a creeping brain that took over the world. Don't worry, it all made perfect sense at the time.The old songs sounded great, but the highlight of the night was one lifted from new album 'Em Are I (which, while being as well-produced a record as he has put out, still retains the lo-fi, anti-folk charm of his previous offerings). Broken Broken Broken Heart was such a shimmeringly catchy combination of country-pop and doo wop that the crowd were bopping along within a few bars. Were English their first language, they would have been singing along too. I was.

It only takes a couple of spins of any of his songs to discover that Jeffrey Lewis is, unquestionably, one of the greatest lyricists of his generation. His songs are often breathlessly wordy and packed full of countless truths. Tonight's show also proved that, not only can he pen evocative lines, but he knows exactly how to put on a live show. The gig had pensive moments, laugh-out-loud humour and sweat-drenched punk magnificence. He might not sell millions of records, but Jeffery Lewis is an absolute genius and should be cherished by anyone who cares about honest, intelligent music.