Crib Notes

See CL photographer Joeff Davis’ photos from the Silver Jews’ final performance at Cumberland Caverns near McMinnville, Tenn. on Saturday afternoon (Jan. 31st).

(Photo by Joeff Davis)

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This Friday night (Sept. 26th) Eyedrum hosts the Atlanta premiere of Michael Tully and Matthew Robison’s (We Fun: ATL Inside Out) documentary film Silver Jew. The film follows Silver Jews main man David Berman on a spiritual quest to the Western Wall (A.K.A. the Wailing Wall) in the Old City of Jerusalem to embrace his Jewish roots … And play a few shows. Doors at Eyedrum open at 9 p.m. and the film starts at 10 p.m. Admission is $5.

Proceeds from door sales are being donated to B Jay Womack (a.k.a. Bobby Ubangi) of local bands the Gaye Blades and the Soft Spots, who was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Chad Radford: How did you you come to be involved with making Silver Jew?

Matthew Robison: David and I met in a club where I was playing, and he humbly introduced himself and his (then) girlfriend Cassie. I had read one of his poems in Mean Magazine, but didn’t know much about Silver Jews. I always understood him as an artist, but admittedly never played his records over and over. I do know most of them very well, and for a few months put together a band to be called Walnut Falcons to play Silver Jews covers. So I like the songs very much. The attachment to the music increased when I used some studio tracks in the doc and began to associate them with the work.

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Next Friday night (Sept. 26th) Eyedrum hosts the Atlanta premiere of Michael Tully and Matthew Robison’s (We Fun: ATL Inside Out) documentary film Silver Jew. The film follows Silver Jews main man David Berman on a spiritual quest to the Western Wall (A.K.A. the Wailing Wall) in the Old City of Jerusalem to embrace his Jewish roots… And play a few shows. Doors at Eyedrum open at 9 p.m. and the film starts at 10 p.m. Admission is $5.

Chad Radford: How did you you come to be involved with making Silver Jew?

Matthew Robison: David and I met in a club where I was playing, and he humbly introduced himself and his (then) girlfriend Cassie. I had read one of his poems in Mean Magazine, but didn’t know much about Silver Jews. I always understood him as an artist, but admittedly never played his records over and over. I do know most of them very well, and for a few months put together a band to be called Walnut Falcons to play Silver Jews covers. So I like the songs very much. The attachment to the music increased when I used some studio tracks in the doc and began to associate them with the work.

I knew when David told me about the Israel shows that it would be something remarkable for him whether or not it was documented. In a few moments I went from wanting to go and write about it to my then (and now) preferred medium of video. When I got his blessing to document I promised that he would at the very least have high-quality home movies.

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David Berman is one of the most lauded characters in the canon of indie-rock songwriters. He is also one of the hardest to understand.

Unlike his friend and sometimes bandmate Stephen Malkmus, Berman doesn’t fit the mold of an ironic hipster. Nor does he carry the weighty, country-boy mystique of Will Oldham. Berman is more like Charles Bukowski. He has the ability to write lyrics rife with symbolism and that resonate with a universal sense of truth, but are grotesque in their painful honesty.

He relegates interviews to e-mail, both in the interest of clarity and to maintain the cryptic shield that surrounds Silver Jews records, it seems. His responses simultaneously feel conversational and elusive, and getting inside his head is virtually impossible.

Like his interviews, Berman’s lyrics have their own internal sense of logic that reveals all sorts of hidden meaning. Just listen to his double-edged lyricism in “Candy Jail” from his latest release, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea (Drag City). “Living in a candy jail/where the guards are gracious and the grounds are grand/and the warden really listens and he understands,” Berman sings.

On the surface, allusions to a cornucopia of peppermint-flavored jail bars, peanut-brittle bunk beds and marshmallow walls seem like nonsense. But upon closer examination, he’s not just singing about sweets.

Read the rest of this article here.

(Photo by Brent Stewart)

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