The Natural Bridge Reviews

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== From Q magazine (UK) ==

by Danny Eccleston

Poetic eccentric David Berman did himself few favours when he invited Steve Malkmus to aid him on his 1994 debut: in a year proliferating Pavement side projects, Starlite Walker from the ho-hum factor. Temporarily Pavement-free, the Virginia based thirtysomething's second effort, backed with delicately strange altern-country by a quartet of unknowns, is marked by greater clarity and confidence. Berman's conversationally related, endlessly droll reflections rendered more compelling than ever. "The Latin teacher always smelled like piss.", he recalls. "We saw B.B. King on General Hospital", he lies. "Our record just went aluminum." he snickers, not inaptly. If the tremendous Dallas is anything to go by, he'll need a bigger bushel to hide his light under from here on in. <code>****</code>

== From Rip (US) ==

Silver Jew David c. Berman is, quite possibly, related to both ESPN's Chris Berman and visionary film maker Ingmar Berman. Who else could make music that swellscinematically with a desperado's longing while asking, "Is it true your analyst was a placekicker for the Falcons?"

This is the Jews second listenable album, a first meating with a long lost cousin who turns out to be a wonderful crackpot and new best friend. Named Jebediah probably. The songs sound like they're sitting on a rocking chair with whiskey in its dowling rods and noseeums breeding in the cushion, which is to say it's homey, homey.

So the record's great- tuneful, understated, rolling like a river, a bit Bob Dylan, a bit Bill Murray, a bit Richard Braughtigan. Lets get onto the real issue at hand, which is that since the last record D.C. Berman's grown a beard. In the whole history/travesty of facial hair in rock, Berman's beard is one of the best, first because it accords him a certain Abe Lincoln-like dignity (important when singing lyrics like "I believe that the stars are the headlights of angels driving from heaven to save us"), secondly because it's full, trimmed, and dark- no purple streaks, no goatee, no bits of chipped beef lodged in the middle.

As far as name drops falling on your head, some dudes from Pavement used to be in this band. They're not anymore and it doesn't matter. If this record had come out when I was in high school, instead of auditioning for Oklahoma!, I would've headed downtown, tried to rent a room in a transient hotel and shot the moon full of glory-holes. Now that, like Jeannie C. Riley said, is plum good enough for pudding.
!!!!! - P.R.

Much more coherent than the last outing. David Berman's tales of weird people are pretty much as amusing as before, but the music is much more orchestrated, with real lines this time out.

While the sound is fuller, the effect is to make the lyrics even more spooky. Everything sounds almost normal. That's when you notice exactly what the hell Berman is singing about. Yow.

There are four other Silver Jews, by the way. Berman just happens to write and sing and such. The other folks have filled their roles more than admirably, fleshing out the vision that Starlite Walking merely hinted at.

Boy, do I like this album. I'm not sure where the Silver Jews are going next, but they've got me following the whole way. Folks have often compared this band to Pavement (a band I'm not crazy about). Yeah, but the Silver Jews are much better. There is vision here.

For years, since they shared members with the better-known group Pavement, D.C. Berman's Silver Jews have been cursed with the tag of "a Pavement side-project" which, while understandable, is about as fair as calling the Velvet Underground "an Andy Warhol side-project." The Pavement connection has surely brought a fair amount of attention to the Silver Jews' recordings, but the music itself has always been carried by Berman, a non-Pavement member, and one of the most talented songwriters anywhere.

Finally, with The Natural Bridge, perhaps Berman will get his due, because, for the first time, there are no Pavement members involved. It's a Berman showcase on all levels, and it's thoroughly excellent. Over a lazy, country-tinged background, Berman acts as poet and storyteller, with a seemingly limitless supply of bad-luck lines like "When I go downtown / I always wear a corduroy suit / 'cause it's made of a hundred gutters / That the rain can run right through," or the more succinct "The stars don't shine upon us / We're in the way of their light."

Mike Noren

by James Keast

Virginia's Silver Jews may be best known in indie rock circles as a side project for a good chunk of Pavement, but The Natural Bridge is going to change all that. Having ditched his more famous bandmates, David Berman has gathered a new gang, and the plan is to wait till dark, and then all of them are gonna ride in, bust through the doors of that there saloon, take care of that evil fucker what done their woman wrong, and get outta town. The vibe here is definitely low-down filth music, slow, dirgy country tinged songs with bizarre, unconnected imagery that is sharp in the moment, but in the long term means pretty much nothing. It don't matter. The music is enough to pull you through any of these low times you've been feeling, on Sunday afternoons that are kinda pleasant and sunny, but you still don't want to go outside &#8212; you want to dream of the rain, and mud, and the darkness in men's hearts. David Berman's right there with ya. His combination of indie-rock twists, country vibe and simplicity, and the story-telling music of early Leonard Cohen or Tom Waits, make for a lamentable stew of discontent. And sometimes there's nothing you want more.

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