Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains (Album Review)

 

Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains

(2019)

My copy: 2019 press by Drag City

Traumatic albums such as David Berman’s Purple Mountains can be very difficult to review. For those who don’t know, David Berman was an underground icon known for blending his sardonic and clever lyricism with alt-country, folk and pop-rock in his main project Silver Jews. Berman committed suicide shortly after completing his work on Purple Mountains essentially confirming that the album is more or less a suicide note that delves into the severe depression he had been experiencing in his final years. 

As a huge fan of Silver Jews, this loss was significant and reshaped my interpretation of the entire album. You’ll notice that Berman simplifies the writing process and tone of the album, opting for a more straightforward take on country-rock, folk and honky tonk. In spite of the uncomplicated songwriting, a litany of instruments join the compositions ranging from sighing harmonicas and mellotrons to powerful trumpets. Berman is also accompanied by female vocals on some tracks to wonderful harmonic results. If you aren’t a fan of alt-country, the instrumentals may not entice you completely but I implore you to listen to the lyrics and read along if you chose to explore this record. 

Yes, Berman’s words on this album can be chilling to the core and extremely depressing but he also retains his sharp wit and cunning sense of humor and employs both to craft an album that is so painfully bittersweet. Tracks like “That’s Just the Way I Feel Inside,” “All my Happiness is Gone” and “Storyline Fever” have soul wrenching lyrics about depression but are sung in happy keys while instruments jingle along; In a way this is one of Berman’s dark jokes about the nature depression and its relationship with music. The album is not without incredible hooks and grooves: “Margaritas at the Mall” is a grimly relatable shuffle with an addicting chorus and triumphant horns, which fits hilariously with it’s lyrical content. 

Some tracks touch on Berman’s divorce, a huge catalyst for his condition, but perhaps the most heart-wrenching track is “I Loved Being My Mother’s Son,” in which Berman is so obviously brimming with love for his late mother than it’s difficult not to tear up when reading the lyrics along with the music. “Nights That Won’t Happen” is the highpoint of the entire record, and does away with the sometimes too bright choruses of the other tracks in exchange for an intimate, reverb soaked guitar and mellotron deut in which Berman delivers an excruciating truth: “When the dying’s finally done and the suffering subsides, all the suffering gets done by the ones we leave behind.” It feels as though Berman knows he’s hurting those left in the wake of his suicide, and the serious tone of “Nights That Won’t Happen” is his haunting way of facing this truth and choosing to end his own life anyway. “Nights That Won’t Happen” feels like Berman is telling us “I’m sorry, but It’s just too much” and that is a truly difficult sentiment to swallow. 

The album’s only downsides are that the instrumentals sometimes are a bit too honky-tonk and bright during choruses, but one could argue that this plays into Berman’s dark sense of humor. If you are a fan of genius lyricism or alternative singer-songwriter music I beg you to look into Berman’s catalog or check out this record. American Water by Silver Jews is a great place to start if you’d rather not jump into such a sorrowful record. 

Purple Mountains is still widely available and if you want to grab it you can probably find it at a nearby FYE or Newbury Comics.