Drag City Reprints David Berman’s Actual Air As We Await Purple Mountains

There’s a lyric from the Silver Jews song “We Are Real,” where David Berman repeats his confession of “All my favorite singers couldn’t sing,.”  It’s a standout moment, not only on that particular track, but on one of my all-time favorite albums, American Water.  That line from the 1998 LP is particularly memorable, because it’s instantly reflective of two things — or rather two flipsides of the same general concept.  The first is that it reveals a key aspect of what is and isn’t important to David as an individual, what he connects to, and what has or hasn’t influenced him.  The second reveals a key aspect of who he is as an artist, himself, and what he creates from that knowledge.  For those unfamiliar with his music, I can tell you that Berman isn’t known for being a vocalist with a ton of range, or some sort of smooth hypnotic crooner.  In fact, for many, his “singing” is an acquired taste.  On the other hand, his voice still remains a trademark, in its own way, and one of his strongest appeals.  In other words, he may not be known for his singing, but he’s definitely known for his voice.  And for someone whose career has always existed with little fanfare, it’s an honest moment where the songwriter almost acknowledges his own strength and value as an artist, even if he does so indirectly.  The Nashville-based songsmith is not someone who cares too much about the presentation or polish of it all, viewing that much more as “the business” end of things.  David finds much more value in the soul and honesty of the words, so that’s where he has placed his heart and found his greatest successes.  It’s the imagery and emotion that he conjures up in his lyrics, the stories that he tells that have stayed with me and continue to prove timeless.  With the release of his sole poetry book, Actual Air (1999, Open City books), those words proved just as potent without the foundation of music to drape them over.  I was lucky enough to grab a copy back in the day, so I’ve personally been unaware of the fact that it’s been out of print for a while, no doubt leaving fans of his work unsuccessfully attempting to track it down for a reasonable price, just as I continue to with so many other titles that have slipped through my own grasp.  The good news is that Drag City Records has just announced that they’ll be reprinting this underground masterpiece.  It’s being produced in a limited run, so it’s probably a good idea to grab it sooner than later, if it’s something that you’ve been looking for.

Since disbanding Silver Jews in 2009, David‘s visibility has been somewhat sporadic and, at times, a bit surprising.  Shortly after the announcement that he was backing away from music, Drag City released  his “hardcover book of 100 humble drawings,” The Portable February.  Then, around 2011, a blog called Menthol Mountains appeared that consisted of him posting poetry, as well as random musings, Youtube videos, half ideas and vignettes, etc.  Basically, it wasn’t much different than any other blogspot blog, except that it came from the voice of David Berman, someone who not only earned himself a legion of fans forever eager for any new word of his goings on, but also a man who has always seemed to scatter gems from his pocket so effortlessly that it feels as if he was hardly even aware that they had fallen.  There were excerpts, quotes, and satire on the music “industry” or politics.  There were even posts featuring a collection of old vintage regional professional wrestling promotional photos and materials.  Looking now, it appears that the 2nd post, overall, was an “essay” that critically dismisses the entire concept of being interviewed, or the purpose and aim of an any and all interviewers.  As one of the last people to interview Berman around the time of The Silver Jews dissolution, that last post, admittedly, hits a bit uncomfortably in the sternum.  Filtered through him, this blog was imbued with a greater weight and mystique to it than it probably should have had, but is somewhat unavoidable.  A few words can be a post.  A random video by itself, just as well.  Then comes a dense piece of carefully presented writing thick enough to choke on; something that could prop open a bank vault or ancient tomb.  The truth of the matter is that for anyone that was truly eager to follow him and his work, Berman was offering up a treasure trove of material; he just didn’t bother to wrap it up, sell, or promote it.  Perhaps the irony is that, while David is a man averse to self promotion and shiny presentation — an aspect that one must assume makes him such an attractive artist to so many of his fans — the fact that this work delivered via his blog wasn’t presented in a more cohesive form, tightly bound with cover art and promotion, meant that it never reached the majority of his fanbase to be consumed by them.  It’s a tricky balance and one that I believe that the poet/musician has been encountering throughout his career.

Back during my 2009 interview with him, I asked David about his creation process, since his approach differs so greatly from other working musicians who, after creating and recording their music, continue to practice their material, because they need to tour and promote it.  He answered with, “Well I think that the record/tour cycle is just a business cycle, one of production and promotion.  It’s pretty easy to see that ‘s not my thing.  Business.”  I can definitely understand being drawn to the creation process in and of itself — for all I know, nobody might ever read what I’m typing at the moment, but I’m still doing it.  Menthol Mountains felt like another version of a message in a bottle.  If it floated past you, perhaps you’d shake it a bit and see what was inside.  Of course, you’d have to be aware of its existence, first.

Actual Air was somewhat similar in the way that a lot of Silver Jews and Berman fans didn’t even know that it existed, but I do know of at least one person who discovered the book before ever listening to his music.  This woman is someone whose paths would cross with mine quite randomly and semi-regularly for a couple of years leading up to around the time of the group’s breakup.  At one point, I was a barista in a shop that she came into and, toward the end of our interactions, she happened to have just begun working as a barista in a different shop that I stumbled into.  She was a musician, so she would travel, and thus the crossing of our paths would be sporadic and, generally, under incredibly random conditions — somewhat of a, “Hey, it’s you again” scenario.  One of the last times that I saw her, I mentioned that I’d be interviewing David and she told me a story about a time when she was staying in someone else’s apartment somewhere on the East Coast — I believe it was New York and, presumably, a spot where she was crashing during her travels.  Left in a strange residence by herself for the day, she came across Actual Air and picked it up, instantly falling in love with its contents and eager to find out if there was more from this unfamiliar, yet magical, author out there in the world.  It wasn’t until later that she learned that David was the man behind Silver Jews, a group that, if she had been aware of them at the time, it was by name alone and not because she ever listened to their music.  She simply knew him as a great poet, someone whose unique delivery she had connected to on some tremendous level without any further context.  Actual Air is not just a book for Silver Jews fans.  In fact, considering how unique the voice is, I’d argue that it’s a book for an endless number of people who might not even consider themselves fans of poetry, otherwise.

The truth is that, Actual Air really did find a life of its own and was the first of only a little more than a dozen titles released by the now-defunct literary journal/publisher Open City books.  The book received glowing reviews from such outlets as The New Yorker, GQ, Time Out New York, Entertainment Weekly, Spin, and Publisher’s Weekly.  It was further praised by Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winner, James Tate, while former Poet Laureate of the United States (2001-2003) and the selected New York State Poet (2004-2006), Billy Collins responded to the work by stating that Berman was “the voice [he had] been waiting to hear.”  On the American Water song, “Random Rules,” David sings that “no one should have two lives,” but his literary and musical work definitely seem to challenge that concept to a degree.  He has shined in two different worlds, each by humbly offering up his art to be published by fledgling entities at the time, allowing it to reach who it may by little more than strength and word of mouth alone.  Of course, it’s true that, in both worlds, he remains a poet.

During our interview, I also had the opportunity to inquire about how the creation of an album and something intended to remain a written piece may or may not overlap or differ.  To that he responded with something that both draws separation between the two practices, as well as comparison: “I don’t think i ever existed in a state when i was making poems and songs.  It was one or the other and they were just different vessels for the same substance.“

I find it interesting that, while many of us have been hoping for Berman to release new music all this time, there is likely a completely separate contingent who is entirely unconcerned with that, yet has been waiting for a new poetry book to be published.  The truth is that he was always a poet first.  It’s what he intended to be and the music was somewhat of a diversion of his path, if not simply a vessel for him to become just that.

In 2012, an “unreleased demo” by the Australian group, The Avalanches, made its way onto the web.  Their highly anticipated sophomore effort was said to be in the works since 2005, but this was a much different offering from an electronic group known for their sample heavy production.  For the most part, the song, “A Cowboy Overflow Of The Heart” was a slow rolling recording that simply featured David Berman reading a poem that he’d written over some very subtle music playing deep in the background.  Excerpts from this spoken word would later appear in the more produced album closer, “Saturday Night Inside Out,” once the group’s WIldflower LP was finally released in 2016.  Last year, David Berman‘s name appeared next to a producer credit on the most recent release by Yonatan Gat, a brilliant guitarist/musician and founding member of Tel Aviv trio / former Joos tour mates, Motonix.  Prior to that, a friend of mine who is, himself, friends with both Yonatan and David had given me the vague scoop that Berman was tentatively working on a new project, but that it wouldn’t likely be released under the Silver Jews name.  It would be something different.  I had hopes that this production credit wasn’t what he’d been referring to and all that would culminate from that.  The good news is that these hopes are, supposedly, supposed to be answered later this year.

Bob Nastanovich, along with his Pavement cohort, Stephen Malkmus, had originally formed Silver Jews with Berman, 30 years ago.  In 2015, Bob posted a Facebook image of himself smiling on a couch seated between David and Jews drummer, Brian Kotzur.  They were holding cans of beer and the caption read, “After Jews practice tonight!!!! ’tis cold in Nashville.”  What the fuck was going on?  Nobody knew.  There was never an update.  Finally, this last December, Nastanovich officially claimed that David would be returning with new music this year.  The announcement, which came at the tail end of an episode of the 3 Song podcast, of which he was a guest, included the statement  “The band’s not gonna be called Silver Jews anymore. It’s gonna be called Purple Mountains.”  The Menthol Mountains blog had laid dormant since 2015, but posts began appearing again in November of 2018 — the month just prior to Nastanovich‘s announcement.  The url is the same (mentholmountains.blogspot.com), but the title of the blog has since changed.  It now reads Purple Mountains.  Seems pretty legit.  Bob also stated that the release would be arriving via Drag City Records.

Although Actual Air was initially released 20 years ago by Open City Books, Drag City did, in fact, follow that up by doing a run of 500 hardcover copies themselves in 2003.  This new release by the label/publisher will mirror that run in numbers, but promises “variant dust-jacket artwork, variant full-color endpapers, enlarged typeface and a larger overall dimension (6” x 8”) to accompany the ever-expanding prose of David Berman” for their 2019 edition.  If you’re not hip to Actual Air, were never able to grab a copy in the past, or simply want a new/different version to add to your collection, you can pre-order it now for $25.  Get one as a gift for somebody.  The release date for this thing is listed for next month on April 12th.  No word on the release date for any music by Purple Mountains at the moment, but until then, this is an incredible book to occupy your time while you wait — and don’t forget to sift through the contents on his resurrected blogs.  Below is the introductory poem on the first page of Actual Air, in case you need any convincing.  It’s one of my favorites.

Snow

Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.

He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer.



Then we were on the roof of the lake.
The ice looked like a photograph of water.

Why he asked. Why did he shoot them.

I didn't know where I was going with this.

They were on his property, I said.



When it's snowing, the outdoors seem like a room.

Today I traded hellos with my neighbor.
Our voices hung close in the new acoustics.
A room with the walls blasted to shreds and falling.

We returned to our shoveling, working side by side in silence.



But why were they on his property, he asked.