Jeffrey Lewis & The Junkyard – ‘Em Are I

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Album Reviews • Wednesday July 22nd, 2009 • 9:43 am

Jeffrey Lewis has long been a staple in the New York City folk scene. His meandering, quirky songs about the insecurities of a struggling bohemian trying to make sense of a fickle city have ranged in subject matter yet always seem to touch on an inherent searching. It is Lewis’ individual and intellectual brand of searching that has defined his music. Whether he’s singing about a lonely walk to the East River, gong insane from acid or getting sick of people offering acid because they heard his song about going insane from acid, Lewis is able to impose his own quivering stamp upon each song and make it endearing to the listener. In his newest release, ‘Em Are I, Lewis maintains this perspective to some extent, but there is a shift that renders many of the songs devoid of Lewis’ charm.

‘Em Are I features The Junkyard, a ragtag group of loose fitting musicians who provide a clanking punk backdrop for Lewis’ newest batch of songs. Looking at the album art (a various set of cross-sections of someone dressed as a mummy) it appears that Lewis is taking a more precise probing approach to his songwriting. However, the focus seems lacking, and the vision obscured. Instead, the songs seem as if they have no specific order and are discarded knick-knacks that have been gathering rust.

The album begins with the driving “Slogans” – a tune that churns around ideas of how to cope with social anxiety and has clever lines such as, “Everyone you meet is you/ Divided by what they’ve been through.” This tune segways into the drowsy nursery rhyme “Roll Bus Roll,” a song that explores the many possibilities of sleeping during bus travel. These two songs provide a solid introduction, but many of the songs become frustratingly long-winded as the album progresses.

The album undoubtedly tries to hold attention with the addition of the Junkyard musicians, but the music is sometimes more of a distraction. “The Upside-Down Cross” meanders through eight minutes of muddled jam session over two chords. In “Whistle Past The Graveyard,” a meddling mandolin and banjo make lines such as “I don’t want to be told what happens when I die,” lose their sincerity, and it feels that instead of taking a casual walk through a cemetaey that one is skipping around a barnyard.

That is not to say that Lewis’ technique has changed. It seems that his music has always been a spilling over from a very active mind – as if the music is simply a byproduct of a dynamic and creative brain. However, ‘Em Are I does have a tinge of self-consciousness, that suggests a degree of over-thinking. It seems that Lewis is getting tired of continually discovering the same lonesome themes in his travels. As if his patient search is invariably producing the same result. This frustration has produced a shift that at points becomes alienating for the listener.