Wanted to start today after a brief jaunt to the crazy streets of Wildwood to highlight another discovery, one that unfortunately comes concurrent with that chapter’s sad ending. The discovery — twenty years past apparently everyone else’s unearthing — was of David Berman, singer/songwriter for the Silver Jews. I found him because the music sites were working themselves into a lather back in May with a flurry of headlines extolling his return — “Surprise single” from “reclusive”/”infamous” David Berman of the “legendary” Silver Jews, “returns with first new music in 11 years.” All of it accompanied by photos of this guy with a dark aviators, an occasional trucker hat, and wispy dark hair, looking something of a cross between Judah from 30 Rock and a bearded Nick Cave.
It seemed like a lot of interest (and superlatives) for someone I’d never heard of, so I started reading up and listening to the music. The story was intriguing — gifted songwriter whose lyrics are cited by some of indie’s leading lights as inspiration starts a band with Pavement pal Stephen Malkmus the same year they release their debut, gets pissed because it was described as a “Pavement side project,” fires both Pavement pals and releases his second album without them, eventually lets them back in for the rave reviewed/”instant classic” third, then spends the next ten years releasing three more albums (sometimes with them, sometimes without them) while increasingly struggling with depression, drugs, and suicide (all dealt with openly and pointedly in his lyrics, as well as an infamous Fader article), refusing to do almost any interviews or even tour before calling it all off in 2009 and disappearing completely from public view. Cue 10-plus years where the legend/mystery grows before suddenly reappearing in May with that “surprise single” from his new band, Purple Mountains.
Said single was the effervescently titled “All My Happiness is Gone,” whose opening verse grabs you from the outset:
Friends are warmer than gold when you’re old
And keeping them is harder than you might suppose
Lately, I tend to make strangers wherever I go
Some of them were once people I was happy to know
Cast off with what turns out to be Berman’s deadpan baritone, you almost miss the sadness packed into those words amidst the sunny melody. By the time you get to the end of the second verse, though, you understand just how dire the situation is (if the title wasn’t enough of a clue) — “Feels like something really wrong has happened/And I confess I’m barely hanging on.” The rest of the album stays in that vein — lyrics like “Humbled by the void, most of my faith has been destroyed” or “The light of my life is going out tonight without a flicker of regret” butt up against song titles like “Darkness and Cold,” “Maybe I’m the Only One for Me,” and the aforementioned single. Which is not to say it’s a dour, mopey affair — backed by former faves Woods there’s a sonic brightness that belies the lyrical darkness, and Berman’s sense of humor remains subtle, yet sharp. (The songs “She’s Making Friends, I’m Turning Stranger,” “Margaritas at the Mall,” and the aforementioned “Only One” being but a few examples.) That latter piece is similar to Built to Spill’s Doug Martsch, who Berman occasionally sounds like on his early Silver Jews records.
Unfortunately, it seems the inspiration for those words — whether recent events (Berman apparently separated from his wife/bandmate of 20 years this year and was living in the apartment above his label’s offices in Chicago) or a lifetime of struggling — became too much to bear as Berman took his own life this week. It’s a sad end to what has been an engaging catalog of songs — as I plowed through his latest album I also dived back into his former band’s offerings and have found plenty to enjoy. Berman has a gift for writing some memorable lines (again similar to Martsch in that aspect) and that third album in particular has some really good songs. (“Random Rules,” “Smith & Jones Forever,” among others)
In the wake of his passing Pitchfork posted their 15 favorites, which span his career (and include those two). I’d start with “Random,” not only because it’s a solid song, but because the video was shot in my old neighborhood and it’s always good to see what’s at the end of the Rainbo, site of many a late night (and cheap beer). Give it (and the rest) a listen, and pay your respects for another gifted life ended too soon as you do. (And as we did after the passing of Anthony Bourdain and Scott Hutchison, if you know anyone struggling with depression or in need of help, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1.800.273.8255) or click here to chat with someone online.)
We’ll stay in my beloved city by the lake with another Berman collaborator (and another gifted lyricist who’s candidly struggled with drugs and depression in the past), Jeff Tweedy. His band Wilco recently released the first single from their upcoming release Ode to Joy (due 4 Oct), their first since 2016’s Schmilco (which landed at #9 on that year’s annual wrapup). It’s another lovely little shuffle, similar in tone to Tweedy’s solo album WARM (which landed at #15 on last year’s list). If history is any guide I’m sure the rest of the album will follow suit — check “Love is Everywhere (Beware)” out in the meantime:
We’ll leave the lake and jump across the pond to the UK and the latest from Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. Their last EP was a little too synthy for me — which shouldn’t be a surprise as the eight of you are well aware of my hatred for unnecessary (ie all) synths — but the lead single from their second EP of the same name, This is the Place, is more reminiscent of the cinematic songs from his previous outings. (Including 2017’s Who Built the Moon?, which landed at #11 on that year’s list here.) Hopefully the rest of the EP keeps this up:
We’ll stay in the UK and post the latest from another band whose recent offering tripped my antitheSYNTH campaign, that of the Foals and their Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost — Part 1, which came out earlier this year. It was a bit underwhelming at first, but has grown on me in subsequent listens — still not going to be a favorite, but there are a couple good tracks on there. (And just to prove I don’t know what I’m talking about, it just made the shortlist for the 2019 Mercury prize.) Thankfully Part 2 is supposed to be a return to form, restoring the power (literally and figuratively) of Jimmy Smith’s guitar, which was so muted in Part 1. Lead single “Black Bull” is a promising sign, an unvarnished ripper in the vein of the band’s more aggressive approach on What Went Down (which landed at #7 on 2015’s list here). Crank it up and give it a spin — rest of the album should drop 18 October:
We’ll close with a final kick in the can, this from UK punks IDLES (whose album was ALSO just nominated for the 2019 Mercury prize). It’s the B-side to their latest single and while I may not know exactly what they’re talking about (I dream guillotine?), there’s something oddly satisfying with frontman Joe Talbot shouting “all aboard the cocaine ghost train” over and over again at the end. A solid back end to the Foals track and a modest way to try moving past the posts’s sad start:
Hang in there, everyone — until next time… –BS