During these early years in my career, no one offstage was more instrumental in helping and supporting me than Ellen Cavolina Porter. She booked Fez, the best room in New York City. It was on the corner of Lafayette and Great Jones, and to get in, you had to find the stairs at the back of a Mediterranean restaurant and bar. Once you descended, you were in an incredible new universe with cabaret tables and low ceilings and the 6 train rattling nearby and the most artist-friendly staff ever assembled. Ellen booked amazing acts in that space, and she let me open for a lot of them. Rhett Miller, Gary Jules, Ed Harcourt, Grant Lee Phillips, Hem, Amy Correia, Ben Lee. The list goes on and on. Ellen claims she liked me upon first listening to The Confluence. I think it took a lot of badgering on my part. But I like her story more. Ellen became a great friend. She put me on that stage in front of new audiences, introduced me to so many great performers and songwriters, booked me in other rooms, and more than anything, just respected the music I was writing. I don’t think I could have continued without Ellen.

Sadly, we learned that Fez would close in February of 2005. We booked one of the final nights at the venue. I think we did an early and a late show. I wanted to preserve the feeling I had playing there, and I wanted to give something back to Ellen for all she had done. So we recorded and filmed the shows and ultimately made Live from Fez. It’s a mix of the songs on The Confluence, After the Wrecking Ships and Strange Light, which I would release next. It includes a little three-song DVD.

It’s the only real live record I’ve released, and it includes some of my stage ramblings that around that time were becoming a big part of my live show. I love this record, mostly because I love Ellen and Fez and the musicians I played with at that time. I’m not really performing with any of them anymore, though we’re all still close. And, as mentioned, Fez is no longer. So this really is a piece of lost time for me, a time I am very grateful existed.

LISTEN

LYRICS
Jefferson

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

When you come down…Jefferson, I heard your tears fall down, over the fall of the rain. Why is it you and I were never that much the same? Rain on the road across the Delaware, nearly washed us away. How come philosophy folds in the light of the day? And how come the leprosy ate everything away? A piece of the West broke away.

Chorus: We are worn like the river stones.

Lay your bones on the river stones. Washed up like the river stones. In Bethlehem a baby boy was born, born to build the bomb. What was the fighting for, and who remembers his song? The boy was king. He was a prodigy, in love with everything. Why did the kingdom come and spill on every one? And why the confusion son the closer we cling to the gun? The fall of the West’s begun.

Chorus

In Pennsylvania there’s a bridge that broke. The water washed it on by. Why is it you and I buckled under the tide? Jefferson we should have listened, We should have answered the call. But what did you want from me, now the West will fall? And who did you hope to be, now the West will fall? Yeah, now the West will fall. 

Chorus.

The Matador

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

This was not your choice. It wasn’t yours to choose. We may lose it all. We might have lost it all.

Recall the empty page, the first words on the page. This is the age of thieves, the age of misbelief. Round up the bulls, enter the matador.

Make up the rules; it’s what we’re fighting for. Don’t you come near, don’t tell me anymore. Through the fear, oh Sarah spring is here.

Oh, tell me please, what do you believe? We’ve been overthrown, outnumbered, overgrown. Alone against them all, it’s us against the world. And girl, how we age. This is how we age.

Round up the bulls, enter the matador.

Break all the rules that we are fighting for. Turn down the song don’t play me anymore. All along, there’s something going wrong…

Shiloh

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Hear Buell’s brass band play war songs for me, for you. April ’62, the kids in blue and gray. Hear Buell’s brass band play so low, so true. Oh, for the gray and blue, so low, so long, war songs, war songs.

Ma, the cannonballs are coming down. No one told us where to run or how. Oh the general is bleeding now. 

Shiloh.

Ma, I didn’t even know his name. Moving through the mud, the scream the pain. Bloodstained, the blue and gray look just the same.

Shiloh.

After Shiloh, Tennessee turned blue. After Shiloh, blood’s on me and you. After Shiloh, oh let me go home. After Shiloh.

Boxes

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Now the kids have all grown old, no more grass stains on their big dreams. Now we pack it all it seems in these boxes, all these boxes. All these boxes they are all I see, and our big dreams. Where will they go? Remember when you said hello in your blue jeans and your long hair?

We went walking everywhere, by the river. You were trembling. You were trembling when I said to you, let me kiss you and your big dreams. Twenty years, or so it seems, that’s a long time. What a long time. And now you hold it all inside like those boxes. All those boxes.

All those boxes they get in my way, like our big dreams, like our old bones. Lately there’ve been ghosts I know. I can’t see them. Help me see them. Well, I guess we’ll pack the ghosts as well and move on now, and move West now, with our big dreams all in boxes. Oh our dreams they aren’t quite as big as our boxes.

Red

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Red left Cleveland on the 8th day of July.  She said, “this town could burn for all I care.” Drove like hell until the smoke filled the sky, “God damn car won’t get me anywhere.” You got me in pieces. Baby it just increases. I think I’m going crazy.

On the side of Route 80 they say wisdom comes for free. Oh Jules you know I miss you terribly. God, I hope you hear me. Wouldn’t you agree? This is an old song. This is an old song. Wouldn’t you agree?

Well, he saw her throw her sandals down the road, And he wasn’t too sure of what to say. “You know the sunset in Ohio makes me mad, but something feels different today.” I’m all in pieces. And baby it just increases. Where did you come from baby?

Oh Jules, I like the way your eyes shine when you smile, But Cleveland’s not a place for you and me. Why don’t you believe me? Wouldn’t you agree?This is a love song. This is a love song. Wouldn’t you agree?

Well, we got to get away from this town. How ‘bout Georgia? Watch the leaves come down. A Greyhound heads southbound maybe three times or more. Yeah, this time, this time, I swear. You got me in pieces. Baby it just increases. Where did you come from baby?

Wouldn’t you agree? This is an old song. This is a love song. This could be our song. Wouldn’t you agree?

Red

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

She’s lost in Times Square, and everywhere the air is bright. The moon rose tonight, rose despite the lights the sound. Don’t hold me down. The moon’s come unwound. String is found hanging from the trees. Say what you please: That we’re green, that we’re mean, then we’re bound.

Chorus: Don’t hold me down, now that the light’s on me. Turn down the lights, I can’t see. We’re lost in Times Square, not prepared to sacrifice. Don’t ask me twice. It isn’t nice, but we’ve lost the round.

Chorus

Watching you rise over Times Square. Quiet the Earth. Quiet the air. And as the churning tides of your soul settle the boy, settle the girl. And as the wrecking ships sail away, stay for the night, stay for the day. And as you rise up over Times Square, child of the moon, smile from up there.

All the Weight

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Corner of 9th and Avenue A, postcard arrived in May. I knew by the lick of the stamp it would say, you are resilient, we’ll be okay. But all the weight of that day, and the price that we pay. Things that just won’t go away and the things that won’t stay.

Sign of divine intervention we found. Sign of the times, God flipped it around. Watch what you wish for, you pay by the pound, if you’re in New York and don’t make a sound. But all the weight of this town, it’s bringing me down. Trying to lose what I’ve found or just set it down.

If the streets snap out of time, if the world tilts ‘til you fall, If the only words that rhyme, don’t mean anything at all you have to do, Is come back home, I’m missing you, come back home, I’ll sing for you, this song.

All the weight of this town, it’s bringing me down. Trying to lose what I’ve found, or just set it down…

Fire Sign

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

You should have told me.
Seemed like an ordinary day
Everything seemed to be okay

Did it hurt you?
These are the scars you never show.
She is a fire sign, you know
One day you’re near and then you go

Here is a photograph, what do you see?
Sorry it’s just me.
Oh in the aftermath, it’s hard to breathe
And harder to believe

They deceive you
There is a wall you have to climb
The echoes in your mind

You surrender
These are the lessons that you learn
nobody hears no one’s concerned
One day it’s clear and then you burn

Here is a photograph, what do you see?
There’s nothing there but me.
Oh in the aftermath, it’s hard to breathe
And harder to believe

Even just a sound. And all your cards are down.
Even just a sound.
Let me lay you down. Don’t have to make a sound.
I would lay you down

It surrounds you
These are the scars you never show.
There was a warning sign, you know
One day you’re near and then you go

Little Fists

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Well, it’s closing time. It’s Christmas and your country calls on you. “What would Jesus do?” reads the billboards driving south from Baltimore. You’d think we’d gone to war. The army trucks are in the passing lane.

We’re asking the rules to change.

Well, in a field of grain, liberty stands with an open hand.  Outside Birmingham, blues man on the corner shares the news. He says we cannot lose. The beggars on the street they disagree. They’re asking the man to change.

Well, the painter’s hands are chained. The poet’s tongue is tied. The wizards all have died. You must choose your side. Politicians pick the pleasure and the pain. And in the pouring rain, You clench your little fists against the world. You’re screaming. Asking the leaves to change.

Chicago

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Take anyone at all on any day, let’s say the day before the fall. Strike up the band and maybe load the cannonball. Strike up the band before the fall. You couldn’t be more wrong than this.  “I got to get away.” 

“How ‘bout Chicago, you could be there in a day?”
“What’s in Chicago that the wind won’t blow away? What’s in Chicago after all?” You couldn’t be more wrong than this.

The wind it blew before. But not like this, it was much easier before. You left me standing in front of all the open doors. Come back before too long.

You couldn’t be more wrong than this.

Bushwick

Words and music by David Berkeley
Straw Man Publishing ASCAP 2002

Twelve years old, by now you see that the world was meant for me and not for  you grow so fast, you grow so bitterly. Soon you’re not who you need to be who you’ll be, you notice that the signs are contradicting all the time.

Chorus: Why does it look better in black and white? I disagree. So try me. Be bigger this time.

There’s a rule on Bushwick Drive, that you keep your eyes cast down on your own lives go on like that I guess, but in the end there’s more that you should really get  off the bus, get off the subway car find out where you really are.

Chorus

So, it’s fame that clipped your wing. How did that go on? So, the rain can’t make you sing. How did that go on? So you’ve let them fence you in. How did that go on?

Chorus.