As album titles go, The Day They Let You Out Is The Day They Might Not Let You Come Back is quite a mouthful. And as a pronouncement on life, it’s rather dire, though thoroughly in tune with contemporary human vibes. But there’s no use doing things halfway when you’re back after a quarter century, and half measures have never been part of songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Peter Jefferies’s toolkit anyway.
Jefferies first surfaced in New Zealand in the early 1980s, fronting the doomy punk outfit Nocturnal Projections. Following that quartet’s flame-out, he pursued an ascending creative arc that included singing and playing in the more experimental This Kind Of Punishment (full disclosure: My old label, Roof Bolt, reissued one of TKP’s albums on CD), recording and accompanying fellow travelers for the Xpressway tape label and making a string of fairly fantastic solo and collaborative records that showcased his by turns brooding and acidic piano, primal drums and imperious voice, which was the optimal vehicle for delivering his outsider perspectives. Jefferies took an extended hiatus after releasing Closed Circuit in 2001. In the past dozen years his old music has been reissued to deserved acclaim, he’s released a leftover-scraps compilation called Last Ticket Home, and he’s done a couple seven-inches for the Italian Almost Halloween label. Now comes his first album of new music in 25 years.
Several things are evident before the conclusion of The Day They Let You Out’s first, brief song, “Draw It By Hand.” Jefferies’ singing voice is utterly unchanged, and he still possesses the energy and melodic imagination necessary to project it using only a vigorously handled piano as a launch pad. The song’s lyrics further confirm that Jefferies’ observational perspective has not been swamped by contemporary distractions. Software and AI be damned, he’s putting his trust in well-tried practices. You think the world’s OK? Here, he’ll draw you a picture.
Which isn’t to say that Jefferies sounds just like he used to. He’s not one to stand still. His recordings have generally reflected the input of musicians drawn from whatever locale he’s in come recording time, and the four players who accompany him on guitar, bass and electronic drums contribute an array of textures that give The Day They Let You Out its unique character. They aren’t averse to channeling early inspirations; on “Granada Land,” Jefferies and multi-instrumentalist Joey Worton achieve an impressively spot-on reanimation of the vivid sound world that Wire’s Colin Newman occupied back in the early 1980s.
But they spend more time making worlds of their own. Hamish Allan’s probing bass focuses the title tune’s atmosphere of uncertainty, and the deflationary twang of Victoria Singh’s electric guitar on “Can’t Fly” underscores that song’s litany of disenchantments. At the heart of every track are Jefferies’ deliberate melodies and measured words, which convey import without giving away the whole story. That withholding gambit is one key to the songs’ success, since it keeps you coming back to see where they’ll take you next.
Consumer alert: When purchased from Bandcamp, the album includes a 19-song, career-spanning concert recording from Jefferies’ return to Dunedin, New Zealand, in February. [Grapefruit]
—Bill Meyer
