In the scene, Marcus Licinius Crassus (Sir Laurence Olivier), intrigued by the bath and olive oil rubdown he’d just received from his aforementioned slave boy, serves up one of the best sexually charged double entendres in the history of cinema. Tame by today’s standards, yes, but serious business for 1960. I now take great liberty in paraphrasing the dialogue (including the characters’ thoughts in parentheses.)

MLC: Tell me, slave boy, do you prefer oysters or snails? (Why am I being so polite? After all, I own this guy.)

A: I’m afraid I don’t understand, master. (I’ve got a very bad feeling about this.)

MLC: (I’m talking about getting it on, you dinkus. This might be tougher than I thought.) Well, captivus de Crassi, some…desire oysters…and others…desire snails. Then there are some of us…slave boy…who desire both oysters AND snails.

A: (Oh, shit. I knew I was picking up a vibe during the lavender sprig flogging part of the rubdown. This is ungood. Where’s a catastrophe of yet-to-be-written Biblical proportions when you need one? It’s nice to be asked and all, and to each his own, but let’s face it, I’ve always been, always will be a snail guy. Or oyster guy. I don’t know what I am, but I do know it’s time ex lecto de Crassi iter faceo.) Oh, look, master! We’re out of pumice. I shall fetch some forthwith. (exeunt)

I’ve (we’ve) made 10 or 11 albums over the last decade. A large number by some standards, though I’m certain any hard-working phlebotomist, for example, has drawn way more than 10 gallons of blood in the same time period. Anyway, in case you’re wondering, I have no good answer as to what kind of music we’ve made on Live a Little. And that’s not because it’s so complex. (In fact, it’s so simple, a monkey with garageband could probably, in time, tap out the chord changes with his four hands.) The rub is, people take comfort in categorizing things, especially music. And that’s cool. So, since music is the business we’ve chosen, I’ll do what I can for you.

Just over a year ago, Pernice Brothers released Discover a Lovelier You. Let’s call that record a snail (which, clearly, everyone knows means recorded completely in the digital realm at home, very few acoustic instruments and amplifiers, limited live takes.) Now we’re releasing our new album, Live a Little. Let’s call it an oyster (which, of course, means recorded in a 24-track 2-inch analog studio, lots of guitars through vintage gear, a real orchestra, grand piano, and a well-rehearsed band hell-bent on milking a feel onto every song.) If you happen to be an oyster guy, I have a feeling you might dig this album…You know what, this metaphor could make me puke, literally. I had food poisoning (or a stomach flu, not sure) days before recording started, and it’s quite possible the carrier was a suspiciously warm shrimp picked off the top of a forlorn cocktail. Sadly, the shrimp wasn’t warm or suspicious enough for me to refrain from swallowing. I thought they were “crunchy” style. Turns out, they were not. Visions of sea horse-shaped bacteria playing polo in my G.I. tract remain as vividly as the color trails tailing a Dock Ellis LSD curveball. Metaphor over.

Live a Little has a lot in common with Overcome by Happiness, but with more muscle. Both albums were made at Studio .45 in Connecticut, the mightiest mitochondria cranking out rock music and actuaries. Mike Deming produced with me again, and I was joined by Peyton Pinkerton, Pat Berkery and James Walbourne. My brother Bob played more on this record than on any other, and his unique style (dubbed “totally unencumbered by cool”) drove a few songs over the top (see: the lead at the end of “Zero Refills.”) I mention Bob because he’s something of a prodigal brother. Pinkerton plays a guitar lead on the song “Automaton” that breaks your head open, gets in, eats your leftovers (tidies up the kitchen) and splits. James’s guitar work on “Somerville” is as soulful and full of false optimism as any on a Pernice record. And the joy Pat felt while seated at his kit in a great live room comes across loud and clear. His playing makes him sound even taller than he is. Deming (as he did for Overcome) arranged and conducted the string and horn passages that are, in my opinion, pretty stunning. I also “came home” to the bass guitar, my first instrument.

We started tracking the album in two feet of January snow, and finished as the landscapers were spraying the red maples with a kinder, gentler ddt. We took weeks off here and there to clear the heads and maintain domestic harmony. Deming and I also spent a couple weeks co-producing 11 songs for a Jim White album somewhere in there. I was touched that Jim asked me, as it takes a pretty big leap of faith (at least for me) to let “outsiders” in on record-making.

We “cover” the song “Grudge F***” aka “Grudge F*** (2006)” which I wrote for the Scud Mountain Boys’ 1996 album Massachusetts. Once a tune is recorded, I have no problem saying good riddance. But this is the one song I’ve always wanted a second crack at. Since I own the publishing and co-own Ashmont Records, I can do anything I want. As far as the other tunes go on Live a Little, I’d give them a cumulative score of about 287 or 288…289, max.

-JP July, 2006 Toronto, ON