(Ashmont)
If the members of R.E.M. had never met until this year and started a band now, this is probably what they'd be doing: crafting tired-sounding ballads and force-fed rockers with minimal mess and an almost apathetic exclusiveness. The Pernice Brothers probably don't play with their backs to the audience, but it wouldn't be a terrible fit if they tried it. Goodbye, Killer feels like an indie rock Dire Straits, a perpetual laid-back serenity but with none of the broadminded friendliness of, say, the Weakerthans.
Never mind the adult contemporary streak that drives so many alt-rockers past middle age and (one must grudgingly admit) occasionally yanks excellent work out of them; how are the songs? Indistinct, mostly, although greater familiarity with Joe Pernice's particular quirks seems to be making it a hit with his fans. After hearing so much about the literate ache of his lyrics, what I hear seems just overly labored. Musically, this is very lite alt-folk or alt-country at the most resigned extreme, not particularly related to the lush music that once put the Pernice Brothers on the map.
It has some of Wilco's charm but not a lot of their vitality, and is a bit too easygoing to have much beyond a pleasant calming effect. The only melody that sticks is the early highlight "We Love the Stage," a self-aware cabaret chronicle of life on the road that you'll keep with you. Otherwise, although the clean production amplifies rather than squanders the DIY spirit (and possesses some welcome contrarian nods to actual mainstream country music), you won't find much energy, nor will you find songs that justify the aloof performing. Still, you could do worse as far as atmosphere for a late afternoon hammock snooze.
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