Our stubborn belief in the permanency of the Internet is often shown to be off the mark. Every so often, when I marvel at the lyrical prowess of David Berman (Silver Jews), I think back of a certain article I once read. A website had put out a call for favorite lines from songs, and when the results came in half of them were lifted off of Silver Jews songs. It is the ultimate tribute to a fantastic songwriter. Yet every time I try to trace my way back to this article, I end up empty-handed.
Let me put the limelight on a song of his that is not among his most-lauded. Black and Brown Blues. There is a definite sense of where-do-we-go-now-but-nowhere in this one, a desperation that Berman manages to make poetic and comical at the same time.
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
But a lonely man can't make a move
If he can't even bring himself to choose
Between a pair of black and a pair of brown shoes
