That’s what Berman was thinking about when he approached the front desk. “Give me the Al Gore Suite,” he demanded. He must’ve been a sight in the lobby of Nashville’s nicest hotel, overdosing on crack and pills. But he was wearing a Brooks Brothers suit, and they gave him the room. Riding the elevator up to the eleventh floor, Berman laughed at the bellboy. “I want to die where the presidency died!” So he stumbled down the hall, opened the doors to the Al Gore Suite, and did just that.
I originally read “Dying in the Al Gore Suite,” Nick Weidenfeld’s brilliant profile of David Berman’s 2003 suicide attempt when I was an undergrad in Chicago. I was on a huge Silver Jews kick at the time, and I was still reeling from Berman’s incredible poetry collection, Actual Air. This is a piece of music writing that has stuck with me over the years, primarily because of how deeply personal it is. Weidenfeld does a great job at providing an intimate glimpse into Berman’s incredible mind. He’s still one of my favorite songwriters. I’m happy I was able to see him perform before he retired, and I hope he continues to write in any capacity. This piece isn’t online, but can be found in Da Capo’s Best Music Writing 2006 collection.