ROLLING STONE
http://www.rollingstone.com

Peter Himmelman
The Pigeons Couldn't Sleep
RS: 3 of 5 Stars ***
Average User Rating: 5 of 5 Stars *****

“Some things in life go smooth/But they're mostly in a dream,” Peter Himmelman sings in an irritated growl in the opening title song, a slow-blues crawl through razor-wire slide guitar. There isn't much that goes easy in the next twelve songs. But Himmelman, who has made sharp-dressed, stiletto-wit pop records since the mid-Eighties, is no quitter. For every step he takes toward giving up -- the bleak longing of “The Ship of Last Hope” (it sails without him), the waste of precious time in “17 Minutes to 1” -- he jumps back into the fray with the crackle of early Elvis Costello and a sturdy coat of faith. First pressings of this album come with Rock God, a DVD about Himmelman's life on the road, which expands on the truth of that line above. But the single picture of strength in numbers in “If We Could Hold Each Other's Hunger” tells you much more about the best way to make any dream come true.
DAVID FRICKE
(Posted: Sep 4, 2007)

CHICAGO TRIBUNE
http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/lifestyle/chi-0918dvdsep18,1,3020600.story

ON THE SMALL SCREEN
Himmelman looms large in funny 'Rock God'
By Louis R. Carlozo | Tribune staff reporter
September 18, 2007

You have to see Peter Himmelman's "Rock God."

It's that simple. Anyone who has harbored dreams or fantasies of entertainment stardom -- and who among us hasn't? -- needs to watch the 84-minute DVD documentary that accompanies Himmelman's latest album, "The Pigeons Couldn't Sleep" (Himmasongs Recordings, $16.98).

Here we see a singer-songwriter in his mid-40s -- lauded time and again in major magazines and newspapers for his literate, spiritual music -- still hanging on to the rock ideal that better days wait just around the corner. (Could that be because he's the son-in-law of an actual rock god, Bob Dylan?) At turns hysterical (Himmelman doesn't mind answering questions while standing at a urinal) and poignant (footage of his nascent Minneapolis band Sussman Lawrence shows how he has aged since his new wave youth), "Rock God" embodies the timeless proverb, "Many are called, but few are chosen."

As an observant Jew, Himmelman has missed prime chances to open for the likes of Rod Stewart -- all because he won't perform on the Sabbath. Yet as "Rock God" sublimely suggests, Himmelman claims riches of a different sort -- from fiercely loyal fans who'll follow him anywhere (even out the doors of a Denver concert hall for an alfresco acoustic encore) to a body of wry, hard-hitting work poised to outlast any and all pop-culture trends.

Tribune: Does "Rock God" achieve what you intended?

Himmelman: I wanted it to be more of a general statement -- for someone who is pursuing any kind of dream. "How do you reconcile the dreams you have versus the way they metamorphosize into what they become?" If I were not supremely confident in what I do and the path my life has taken, I don't think I'd ever make anything as self-deprecating as this.

Tribune: You paint yourself as a person who never realized his youthful ambitions. Isn't that cause for regret at some level?

Himmelman: I'm this guy who never really made it, but I know I have a huge catalog of things still inspiring to me. I'm sort of still laughing about it. Of course I wish more people were coming to the shows -- that I could reach more people. But instead of being super famous and having a thin catalog of songs -- some of which would be embarrassing -- I keep thinking that I'm actually going to happen one day.

Tribune: Ever wish you were a super famous rock god?

Himmelman: Certainly I don't wish I was someone else, but I do think about the irony of the whole thing -- toiling away. Then I go global very quickly. You can consider this a rationalization, but I think God has created me and put me in these situations for my own development. These are choices that I've made: to prioritize my kids, my family, to put them ahead of my rock career. There's not a sense of despair in any way. The only time I had some despair was during that year and a half I didn't play much [to complete work on the film].

Tribune: You live on the West Coast, where rock stardom is so valued. How does that compare with your brand of rock success?

Himmelman: It's hard to judge someone else's happiness based on what you see in a magazine or TV. I used to have a desire for fame, but I don't really have that anymore. My desire is to do exactly what I am doing -- to have health, to have money, to have community, to have happiness. I don't care if it's making a kids record or scoring a TV show: Those are lower level excitements. But to be involved in those things every day? That's excitement.