Like stumbling upon a hidden message etched in vinyl, the discovery of “A Porky Prime Cut” on a Silver Jews seven-inch single felt like unlocking a secret chapter in music history. It wasn’t some relic of classic rock, but a late 90s indie gem, the work of the enigmatic David Berman. This inscription, a “Porky Prime Cut,” pointed to George Peckham, a mastering legend whose sonic fingerprints are all over iconic albums by Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and T. Rex. What was this titan of sound engineering doing on this seemingly obscure Silver Jews record, imbuing it with an unexpected sonic fire, an Ignition Song waiting to be unearthed?
Back when I first acquired this record over two decades ago, the run-out groove was uncharted territory. The cryptic “A Porky Prime Cut” would have been just that – cryptic. But time and digital exploration reveal hidden depths. A quick dive into George Peckham’s Discogs credits unveils a career spanning not just rock gods like Led Zeppelin IV, but also post-punk pioneers Joy Division and The Fall. Suddenly, Peckham’s presence on this indie rock 7” masterpiece makes perfect sense, adding a layer of sonic pedigree to an already brilliant track.
“Self-Ignition,” a song that didn’t make the cut for American Water, stands as a quintessential Silver Jews experience, perhaps even the definitive ignition song for understanding Berman’s genius. With Steve Malkmus lending Keith Richards-esque backing vocals and Mick Taylor-inspired guitar flourishes, Berman delivers his signature surreal and poignant lyrics. Lines like “Gently thinking backwards about the psychedelic promises God made to me in the dark,” and “I couldn’t believe it when I saw that you wrote/ That a burning passenger shouldn’t ruin the boat,” are lyrical gold. These aren’t just throwaway lines; they’re potent verses that could have easily been a hit, yet Berman, in his characteristic way, tucked it away as a B-side treasure.
For those questioning the warmth and depth of analog sound versus the crispness of digital, “Self-Ignition” alongside “Send In the Clouds” offers a compelling case. Listening to “Self-Ignition” on YouTube, a lyric might sound like “The pumpkin on the porch is trying to kill itself.” However, spinning the 7″ vinyl reveals a crucial difference: “…trying to heal itself.” This subtle shift from “kill” to “heal” encapsulates the profound impact of analog fidelity, a difference that transcends mere audio quality and touches the very heart of meaning, igniting a deeper emotional resonance within the song.
This is the dark humor and brilliance of Silver Jews, a blend of triumph and perceived failure. While Pitchfork lauded American Water as one of the defining albums of the 90s, this “Hey Jude” or “Sympathy for the Devil” of Berman’s catalog, this ignition song of introspective brilliance, was relegated to the B-side of a limited import single. Mastered at Abbey Road by George Peckham no less! And so, another chapter in rock’s narrative of brilliance and obscurity is written, sealed with the sonic spark of “Self-Ignition,” a testament to the enduring power of a lost song rediscovered.
