The Silver Jews- Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

In listening to Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea for the first time, you realize that something has irrevocably changed about the Silver Jews. Sure, it's still the band led by David Berman, though it doesn't sound like the Silver Jews we've come to know and love anymore. But the more I've listened to Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea, and the more I've gone back to their other albums, the more I come to understand that this 'change' wasn't instantaneous. Rather, it's a process that's been happening since at least 1998's American Water.

Mostly when I think of the Silver Jews, I think of country tinged indie rock mixed with master-class singer/songwriter poetics. To put it another way, the lesser songs can come off as poetry set to indifferent, incidental music, while the better ones come off as brilliant combinations of words and music in equal measure. I've heard it said that people only listen to the Silver Jews for David Berman's lyrics, his ability to craft genuinely moving imagery and dryly turn a phrase into something sharp and stunning. But you can just as easily listen to the songs for the sheer sound of it, the way the lyrics work together with the music even if you aren't consciously following their content. Mostly, Silver Jews songs are somber and mellow or outright dirge-like. Even the happier songs don't see Berman get his low-end voice above a smirk.

You may have noticed I said "mostly" twice in the preceding paragraph. This is because there are some Silver Jews songs that sneak through the cracks to be more forthright and direct; sometimes even precious. Their debut album had 'Rebel Jew', a self referential piece of pop/rock that blossomed into a genuine sing-along chorus. The mostly detached The Natural Bridge had 'Inside The Golden Days Of Missing You', a twangy bit of a ditty about missing a girl and thinking it was better to be unhappy. Then there's American Water, which while not all super-happy-fun-time, certainly brought the Silver Jews into a more song oriented aesthetic. Still the group's masterpiece, it contained the almost saccharine 'Honk If You're Lonely.' Follow up Bright Flight felt like a mix of American Water's classicist pop/rock slant and The Natural Bridge's somber atmosphere, until you got to the second half of the album, which gave you a three-punch-combo of 'Let's Not And Say We Did', 'Tennessee', and 'Friday Night Fever', all catchy, fun, and inventive. Tanglewood Numbers brings us up to present, an album in which every song sounds like it was recorded and played in rural sunlight--give the album a listen again and try to pick out a single song that is slow or sad. Even the ones with dark lyrical content are optimistic sounding.

What, then, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea represents is the victory of the pop slanted, songwriting focused David Berman over the poetic, rural grumbling David Berman. And, unfortunately, I don't think it's for the better. While I like the songs listed above, I liked them expressly because they were the exception to the rule. Yes, even 'Honk If You're Lonely', as silly as it is. On Lookout, they are the rule, not the exception. In fact, the best songs are those that don't sound like the Silver Jews at all--the frantic, piano-driven rush of 'Aloyisius, Bluegrass Drummer', the mantra-like daydream of 'Open Field', and the irresistable 'Party Barge', with its seagull samples and classic rock instrumental break. Therein lies the problem for me, and maybe it's just me, but this isn't what I want from the Silver Jews. If this album were released under a different name, or even as a collaboration with Berman's wife, it would be a bit more tolerable.

In fact, the other big change on Lookout is that it sounds like a band album where before it always sounded like Berman was in charge. Stephen Malkmus sometimes sang lead or co-lead on other Jews albums, and Berman's wife Cassie did crop up on the previous two albums, but here she is ubiquitous. Moreover, as stated above, there's much more of an emphasis on songwriting and instrumentation instead of Berman's lyrics and ramshackle country tinted indie rock. Often you get the feeling Berman is bemusedly moving through songs written by another band. I sometimes got the impression on Tanglewood Numbers that Berman barely pulled off the songs because his voice just isn't suited to this kind of music. Here, though, I can't stop thinking that for the first time he is the weak link on a Silver Jews album. I love Berman's voice, but it is not suited for these kind of songs. This is not to say he's always got to be doing Johnny Cash/Bob Dylan laments, but he certainly isn't capable of carrying these songs.

The final nail in the coffin, as much as it pains me to say this, is that I think he's lost his gift for lyrics. It's partially that the focus has been taken (further) off the lyrics this time out, but mostly that what he has to say is either mundane or doesn't connect like it used to. 'My Pillow Is The Threshold' is one of the worst Silver Jews songs ever, both for Berman's surprisingly dull lyrics and his inability to make his voice actually give the refrain weight. 'Strange Victory, Strange Defeat' gives us the clunker "how much fun is a lot more fun??/not much fun at all" which makes "You're the only ten-I-see" from Bright Flight's 'Tennessee' seem winkingly clever, and the "love you to the max!!" line from Tanglewood Number's 'Punks In The Beerlight' look smart for being bad on purpose instead of accidentally. Then there's 'San Francisco B.C.', which everyone seems to like but me. I might have looked forward to a six-minute Berman story-song before, but given how boring this song is, and how completely uncommitted Berman seems to the words, favoring their delivery instead, I doubt I'll ever look forward to another Silver Jews album, period. I mean, really, other than backpedaling to The Natural Bridge-era ruminations or--I hope--divorcing himself completely of both the Silver Jews name and any focus on lyrics, I don't really like where this album went and where the band could go in the future.

If this review comes off as overly personal, it's only because until this point I assumed Berman couldn't release a bad album. It's not that I was strung along under false pretenses; more that I had convinced myself that the Silver Jews were one thing, and always would be, and that they would never release an album that attempts some kind of crossover to a more mainstream audience while utterly failing to change anything about the band that turns off most people (in other words, Berman's voice and the focus on lyrics as the sustenance of the album). Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea isn't a disaster, but it's a let down, and one that has me questioning the very future of a band I used to love.