The Many Faces of Greydon Clark

I’ve always avoided the Silver Jews. I have a good reason. A semi-reprehensible college roommate was notorious for listening to Silver Jews records for hours on end—naked, while lazily masturbating. After ejaculating, he would wander into the kitchen, have a bowl of my Apple Jacks and organic soy milk (without permission), and ramble on about the brilliance of the Silver Jews. How could I ever like the Silver Jews if a twat like the Lazy Masturbator loved them? I couldn’t. Until I read this Pitchfork interview with David Berman.

Generally, reading an online interview with a minor-league indie rock celebrity is one of the less interesting exercises one can undertake. However, the David Berman interview broke that mold into a million pieces. He was interesting. He was honest. He was angry. He made me want to purchase his records. I was especially taken by his candor and willingness to discuss his religion, his finances and his addictions. He also gave the self-anointed online punditocracy a very large and extremely extended middle finger. Because of this, I’ll keep my editorial comments on merits and weaknesses of Tanglewood Numbers brief:

As an album, Tanglewood Numbers won’t change your life. You won’t spend hours stroking your cock fantasizing about the day you match its brilliance. But you’ll be happy that you own it. You’ll enjoy listening to it. David Berman is a poet and you’ll enjoy the pictures his words paint in your head.


On to other things things that I like, www.teddybearcrisis.com. Kris Ostness is back in the ski film game. Thank god. He definitely makes the most creative and visually appealing ski movies. Also, you don’t have to turn down the sound on your TV because the film scores are respectable—deep cuts from the electro-pop underground. But onto the meat, A.K.A., the skiing. Apparently, a rabid pack of neon clad Swedish midgets is roaming the intermountain west and the Alps. They are committed to skiing backwards and front flipping the largest, most ridicocklous, jumps you’ve ever laid eyes on. Apparently, Mr. Ostness was able to capture most of their antics on film. Their stunts are tastier than pickled herring.