Thirty years ago this month, the Silver Jews released their second album, The Natural Bridge (read the earlier article on the album here). For many fans of the band, it remains David Berman’s lyrical high point, funny and heartbreaking, and about as close as rock music has ever managed to get to poetry. For its devotees, The Natural Bridge is quite simply one of the greatest albums ever made.
The first Silver Jews album, 1994’s Starlite Walker (a lo-fi masterpiece in its own right), featured Pavement members Stephen Malkmus and Bob Nastanovich. For the follow-up, Berman opted for an entirely new backing band including members of Amherst, MA mainstays New Radiant Storm King, as well as Rian Murphy, better known for his work as sales director and occasional in-house producer for Drag City.
In 2020, a year after Berman’s suicide, I spoke to New Radiant Storm King frontman Peyton Pinkerton, who played guitar on The Natural Bridge. This interview was originally meant to be part of a book-length study of the album, which sadly (but perhaps not surprisingly) never found a publisher. The interview was conducted via email, and Peyton (who at the time had a painful hand injury that made typing nearly impossible) was incredibly prompt and generous in his answers and in the related correspondence.
Thomas Blake: When and how did you first become aware of the Silver Jews, and how did you first meet David?
Peyton Pinkerton: I first heard of Silver Jews when I was told David would be moving into an apartment with some friends of mine in Northampton, Massachusetts. David was to attend the Master of Fine Arts program in Creative Writing at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst in September, so I must have met him that August. This was 1992. Someone played the Dime Map of the Reef 7” for me, and I was excited to meet the man behind the esoteric, lo-fi recording. I met him when he moved in, and we got along immediately.
TB: Can you give some insight into how New Radiant Storm King came to play on the album? I know David dismissed the Scud Mountain Boys early on, then ditched the Pavement guys pretty quickly after that. Did you just happen to be in the right place at the right time, or did he seek you out? Were you working on anything else at the time? And did David explain to you why he cancelled those early sessions?
PP: This story gets told incorrectly all the time and is perhaps the most apocryphal legend within the Jews’ history. In 1995 David asked me to play bass on what was to be The Natural Bridge – along with Bob Nastanovich (percussion), Steve West (drums), and Stephen Malkmus (guitar and vocals for the songs Stephen brought in). We were booked at Easley Studios in Memphis, Tennessee for October of that year. DCB asked me to join the lineup of the previous year’s Starlite Walker (also tracked in Memphis with the aforementioned players). He trusted me, and I think he wanted someone who wasn’t in Pavement to deter the notion that the group was just a side project for that band. He liked my band New Radiant Storm King, and I think he was attracted to the fact that I wasn’t a musical celebrity. Artistic autonomy was very important to David when regarding the songs he wrote, and he was worried that critics focused too much on the Pavement aspect. When the Jews formed, it was all about collaboration, but now David was becoming more guarded with his songs, and Malkmus was bringing in his own contributions.
We rehearsed quite successfully for a week in Charlottesville, Virginia and then made the thirteen-hour trek to Memphis to record on the following day. When the session began, everything seemed to be going very well. Then, as DCB began to struggle here and there with his vocal takes (he always hated his own voice and was incredibly insecure about it), I noticed he was getting a little shaky, physically. After about the fifth song, he, to everyone’s surprise, announced that he was cancelling the session and wanted the tape reels burned. He said he was done with music. Everyone was gutted, but there was no way to talk him down. He was clearly suffering from a panic attack. The studio had already been reserved and paid for, so he was upset about losing thousands of dollars. At this point, when it was clear David was not going to budge on his stance, Malkmus considerately worked out a deal with Matador Records and Easley wherein Pavement would take the reserved time and use it to record what would be the Pacific Trim E.P., sparing David the studio bill. [A later addendum from Peyton: When DCB called off the session, Bob N. put the Easley Studio bill on his personal credit card and somehow (I don’t know the details) he got reimbursed from Matador later (presumably).]
I drove a very broken David Berman back to his house in Charlottesville. The whole ride back he talked about how he had to find a career now that his musical endeavours were over. He got over it because six months later DCB asked me (guitar) and Matt Hunter (bass) from New Radiant Storm King to play on round two of what would be The Natural Bridge. I unfortunately found out later that DCB never actually told the Pavement guys that he was doing an album without them. That’s always sat uneasily with me. To fill things out and to feel more comfortable in the studio, David brought in drummer and producer Rian Murphy. Rian worked at Drag City as well as playing drums for Royal Trux, Dolemite, and some other Chicago bands, including his own project Chestnut Station. David wanted these songs to be entirely his and to have no resemblance to any Pavement sound. David also had no grasp of how recording really worked, let alone how the gear functioned and what limitations existed. Rian acted as a conduit between DCB and the studio engineers Thom Monahan and Michael Deming. This prevented David from getting caught up in the technical stuff and allowed him to feel like he was being cared for.
The rules for the record were strict from the start, largely imposed by DCB – but I suspect Rian had something to do with them too. During our three days of rehearsal, we were only allowed to practice each song three times. When we got to the studio, we were only supposed to do one or two takes per song for a looser and more spontaneous feel. As it happened, most songs were first takes. We also weren’t allowed room for overdubs – save for one guitar solo I played on Black and Brown Blues and the piano and organ that Deming added here and there. I think I played an old Korg synthesizer on one song as well. This sparseness, leaving a vast canvas for David to sing over, was largely the sound of The Natural Bridge. There was no studio trickery, no effects except for a little reverb here and there, and no punch-ins. We had access to amazing vintage equipment, and it was all recorded on 2” twenty-four track machines. That helped too, I guess. I should add that NRSK had recorded our 1996 album Hurricane Necklace at the same studio (Studio.45 in Hartford, Connecticut). DCB liked the sounds we got, and that’s how we ended up there. David also liked Matt’s bass playing, which is how he got on board.
TB: I’ve always thought The Natural Bridge was the most consistent and coherent Silver Jews record. Would you agree with that, and if so, why do you think that was the case? Would you say that you and the band had a big part to play in that?
PP: That question is a slippery slope. For many people, it’s like The Rolling Stones versus Beatles debate. There are adamant The Natural Bridge fans, and there are die-hard American Water fans. People love many Silver Jews records, but those two come up the most – and are the most divisive in discourse. I love both albums for different reasons. I love all of the albums for different reasons. The Natural Bridge is consistent in that it’s all David – with some musicians backing him and not throwing too much of their personalities into the mix. But it also lacks the comradery and collaborative sound that the original three Jews achieved. Some people greatly resent the absence of the Pavement guys on The Natural Bridge.
TB: With my background as a writer and largely unsuccessful poet, the first thing that drew me to these songs was the lyrics, and the way David sang them. It took me a few listens to realise quite how good the musicianship and the arrangements were. Do you think David planned it that way? Keep the arrangements unfussy to foreground the lyrics? (The more I listen to the record, the more I notice the music: the atmosphere created by the drums on Ballad of Reverend War Character, the way the band slips into a Nashville vibe on Inside the Golden Days of Missing You, the juxtaposition of space and claustrophobia on Pet Politics.)
PP: DCB always turned to classic country artists for his inspiration. A key focus he took away from that was that the vocals had to reign supreme over the music. He definitely planned everything meticulously as far as the acoustic parts he’d play and the lyrics he had to sing. The fact that he only knew about eight chords never stopped him from coming up with inventive progressions, though. He always let us come up with our own parts, so we did get to throw a little of ourselves in there. I’m quite proud of my involvement in that process.
TB: There was an article in Stereogum a few years back (which I thought was excellent) that talked about, among other things, David’s anxiety when recording Pretty Eyes, his fear of getting it wrong. Even before I knew about the tightrope he walked to get that song right, I felt it was a particularly special recording. Were you aware at the time of David’s uncertainties regarding this song?
PP: As in Memphis the year before, DCB started having panic attacks as soon as we got into the studio. He was managing it better than before, and he was staying at my house, which offered him some comfort and solace. I was all too aware of what was going on, but once again I couldn’t help him. We just had to let him feel what he was feeling and not try to talk him down as we had tried to before. Sometimes you just have to let someone know that you’re aware they’re in a bad place and just let them know you’re there for them. He went sleepless for about four nights before he went to the emergency room, where he was given some sedatives. After that, he got about two hours sleep a night if he was lucky. The difference this time was that he seemed more confident in the material and how it sounded – save for his perennially troubling personal issues with his singing. Pretty Eyes was recorded last. The rest of the band went out to get some food. DCB was lying on the floor of the vocal booth when I left – presumably sleeping. Sometime in that one hour we were gone for, he got up and said, ‘I’ve only got one take in me for this song. We might as well do it now or not at all.’ So while we were eating at a diner, David, Thom, and Mike recorded Pretty Eyes, and the record was concluded (it was actually tracked after a few takes, not just one). DCB later confessed to me that he would have felt very suicidal had he not been able to pull off Pretty Eyes. It’s a hell of a closer, and I cry whenever I hear it.
TB: Was David candid about what his lyrics meant? Did he ever explain the meaning of a song (and did you ever ask)? For example, there is a debate amongst fans and critics as to whether How To Rent a Room is about his father or about the end of a relationship (or both)…
PP: David liked to talk about his lyrics usually. He really liked to share them with you if he had a particular line that was an obscure reference to something. In Dallas, he sings, ‘did you know your analyst was a place kicker for the Falcons?’ In truth, DCB did have an analyst who had been a kicker for the Atlanta Falcons (American football team). He also liked to throw a joke or two into a song to see if people would catch it – wordplay and whatnot (listen to Frontier Index). As far as what the entire meaning of a song was, I usually didn’t ask. He’d volunteer it if he felt the need for us to understand it in its wholeness. When we recorded The Natural Bridge, he would read from his journal to us before each song. Sometimes it was just a poem; other times it was part of a speech by someone or a descriptive paragraph of what he wanted a particular song to invoke. He mostly conveyed his meanings in metaphor unless pressed. As he got older, he became much more open about his lyrics. I don’t know what How to Rent a Room is about, but I’d guess relationship stuff and not his father. His issues with his father, at least the major ones, came later in his life. People can argue all they want about what he means here or there in a song, but his mind worked in such a way that it could go over their heads with ease.
TB: Was he a perfectionist? A tough taskmaster?
PP: Yes, DCB was a perfectionist and taskmaster, but only with himself.
TB: Can you talk a bit about the technicalities and the practicalities of recording the album? How long did it take? Were there lots of takes? Was there any particular gear that David insisted on using to create a particular sound?
PP: The record took about ten days to record and mix. David had a fear of gear, so he had no input on that topic. He’d just ask if something sounded better with it or without it. Everyone knew what had happened in Memphis, so there was a real effort to keep things simple and not have DCB waiting around (he hated waiting) for us to get a reverb right or find the right compressor for any given song. Rian pretty much steered Thom and Mike away from getting too fancy with anything. They, of course, did an amazing job on their own. Rian just made sure we didn’t elevate the technical over the performed.
TB: Did you read any reviews of the record when it came out? Were they generally positive?
PP: Yes, I read a great deal of reviews. They were either incredibly positive or nasty because no one from Pavement was involved. Most were great. Some said the record was too staid and lacked the lo-fi essence of previous efforts.
TB: What’s your favourite song on The Natural Bridge, and why?
PP: It sounds like a cop-out, but it’s really hard for me to dissect The Natural Bridge into a song-by-song basis. I appreciate different songs more than others on any given day. If I had to choose, I guess I’d say Pretty Eyes because it provokes such an emotional response. It’s a tender and loving song.
TB: Were you aware at the time that you would only be a part of the Silver Jews for one album, or did you think there might be a chance to reunite somewhere along the line?
PP: I always knew anything could go anywhere with DCB. Hell, I never knew if he’d come out with another record. Every time he’d put something out, I’d think it could be his last release. Still, he’d tell me that he was keeping me in the eaves in case he needed another guitarist. When he decided to tour in 2006, he asked me to play lead guitar, and I was very excited. In 2007, the entire touring band recorded Lookout Mountain Lookout Sea in Nashville together and toured for it in 2008.
TB: What was your relationship like with David afterwards? I know you remained good friends. Did you see a lot of each other? And what was David like as a person (I know that seems like a horribly vague question, but I’d be really interested to hear any anecdotes that you think might shed some light on his character, things that might be surprising, or things you think people should know about)?
PP: He was a few years older than me, so there was kind of a little brother/big brother dynamic. We emailed and texted constantly, but I only saw him a few times throughout the 2010s – not as often as I wished. I guess if I were to describe DCB in a few words (if that’s even possible), it is that he believed in bringing joy to others. Because he took his own life, people have created a persona for him that is just wrong. He battled depression, but he made sure his friends knew he loved them. He played pranks. He sent me weird Japanese toys in the mail, candy, hand-me-down clothing, and tons of books. Always books. I must’ve received twenty books from him over the past decade. In short, DCB was an incredibly talented man who was always grateful for his fans (often feeling undeserving of their love), friends and most of his family members. He believed in hope and that the world could become a better place. He tried in his way to make this so. That said, I have one story that always makes me laugh. A local musician who everybody knew took it upon himself to call me and DCB ‘rock stars.’ We’d be at a bar, and he’d walk by and say something like, ‘ahh the rock stars are drinking top shelf tonight,’ which we weren’t. Eventually this got annoying. This guy happened to live across the street, catty cornered to DCB’s house. One day David was just like, ‘fuck this guy.’ He went inside and came back with a pellet gun. Before I knew what was happening, David had shot out this guy’s window in his house! David was aghast as he thought the pellet wouldn’t reach the window, let alone have enough velocity to break the glass. The guy definitely heard it and came out on his porch. As DCB and I were on a porch too, we just lay down on our stomachs, hiding from this guy who was yelling out to the whole street. I think he thought it was kids messing around. David and I lay prone on that porch for what seemed like an eternity. DCB was really just trying to be playful. He just had no idea that the toy gun would hit its mark. Sometimes I tell people this story, and they say, ‘that’s fucked up ’, but DCB and I laughed whenever the story came up.
TB: The Northampton/Amherst scene in the mid-90s seemed pretty fertile. Along with the Jews/Pavement connection, there was your band, and there was Scud Mountain Boys/Pernice Brothers, Sebadoh, and Mike Flood, who did the artwork for The Natural Bridge. Did it feel like one big interconnected scene with bands sharing stages and recording studios all the time, or were things more self-contained? And was David central to what was going on at the time?
PP: Yes, fertile would be the word. There were too many bands to name, but you nailed a few. And there was only really one good place to play, the Baystate Hotel. Coincidentally, I was a Pernice Brother from 1997 to 2010. We actually recorded our debut release at Studio .45, where The Natural Bridge was tracked a year earlier. So yeah, there was a lot of crossing paths. Another famous studio was Slaughterhouse Recording Studio in Amherst, where almost everybody recorded their material. Studio .45 was considered pricey and fancy for the day. As far as DCB’s role, he was definitely at the center of it all. He never played a single show, but his apartment was the major hangout, and all of the usual suspects would be partying there night after night – with David as the ringleader. Everyone was drawn to him.
TB: How about your own recording career? You released an album in 2019 (which I really enjoyed). Any plans for a follow-up?
PP: Well, I’ve actually recorded three solo efforts: self-titled (2013), Rapid Cycler (2016), and last year’s Ex Tomorrow. I have a studio in my house and am always recording. I’ll have a new record out within the year, I suspect.
Peyton Pinkerton’s Bandcamp Page