The Silver Jews Live at the Bluebird Theatre in Denver, CO [10.05.08]

David Berman and his fellow Silver Jews performed at Denver’s Bluebird Theatre on Saturday to an almost packed house. In line with Berman’s consistently witty records, the show blended the profane and sacred with the old and the new. Though they didn’t play their early anthem “Rebel Jew”, which bluntly but poignantly reminds us that Jesus was “a rebel Jew who died for you and your sins”, I was glad to see Berman sporting a Star of David necklace. Besides kooky jokes such as, “this one’s going out to my Aunt Fatty… all of them”, most of the profane was the product of the preposterous opener, a trio of Weird Al look-a-likes from Tel Aviv Israel known as Monotonix. The lead singer dumped a trashcan on the drummers head and later dove from the balcony of the Bluebird atop a confused and mostly apathetic crowd. Monotonix may be attention grabbers, but their music, a spoof of MC5-like rock n’ roll wasn’t their main focus and as a result the substance of the group is seriously lacking.

As for the Silver Jews, old classics such as “Trains Across the Sea”, “New Orleans” and “Random Rules” where intermixed between the greater moments of their latest and sixth release, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea (2008 Drag City); like “Suffering Jukebox”, a parable about an unfortunate Jukebox stuck in a ‘happy town’ whose volume is “always kept way down low” because “there’s a lot of chatter boxes in this town”. The diversity of the material became a jaunt through the Silver Jews clever fifteen-year career. Yet the well-crafted song selection was merely a shadow hidden behind the dullness of the performance. For one, Berman didn’t even pick up a guitar until the last few numbers; which would have been fine if he was even half as exhilarating as Nick Cave (who played in Denver last weekend and was utterly stunning). Instead of charisma, Berman relied on his monotonous voice and awkward body movements. When he finally picked up his guitar it became clear why he waited so long: the man knows less chords than the Shaggs. Adding to the awkwardness (which I must admit where at times a bit cute) was Berman’s interacted with his wife Cassie, the bassist/backup singer of the Silver Jews. Interspersed between songs, Berman placed his hands on her hips, sneaked cheeky glances at her and softly swatted her nose. Maybe if Stephen Malkmus of Pavement was still in the group he could use his charm to steer the Silver Jews in more exciting directions then clumsy husband/wife stage flirting. But I guess we’ll just have to find out when Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks play the Gothic on November 6th.

In spite of their boring stage presence, his cunning poetry has always outshined the sometimes-bland instrumentation and overall performance. In this sense it was enjoyable to see a talented wordsmith literally come to life in the flesh. And although Berman can’t play a chord or sing a melody to save his life, his ability to transcend sonic disabilities demonstrates a vital connection of the singer/songwriters from the American Underground and the D.I.Y. attitude birthed from punk that called for a backlash against the tactless perfection and wanky technical noodling of the monotonous mainstream.

Bardos Freedoom