Hi everybody!
I wanted to get some way up on the web for folks to share their thoughts about our friend, that AWESOME bluesy-jazzy guitarist Dave Bernstein, in time for Tuesday's service.
For now, until someone comes up with a better way, you can just post thoughts about Dave as comments to this post. If anyone wants to be invited to be a co-author, go back to the Dave Bernstein Tribute Page, www.cobaltrhythmkings.com/Dave_Bernstein.htm, e-mail me and I will set you up.
Dave, I'm going to miss you bigtime -- even though we only saw each other every few years in recent years. You taught me a lot -- even if I wouldn't always admit it at the time!
For the rest of you, I'm stuck out here in New Haven, CT., unable to get in to SF for the service because of work commitments. I've been a friend of Dave's for 25-plus years since we were both students at UC Santa Cruz playing together in my second band, which was variously known as "Big Duke and the Blues Machine," "Big Duke and the Blue Members," "Big Duke and the Blues Brokers" or whatever "Big Duke and . . . " we collectively felt like being at the time.
Dave could hardly play guitar back then -- who knew he would some day become the AWESOME guitarist he eventually grew to be. But even then, Dave always had deep, deep feeling for the blues and a wonderful love for -- and knowledge of -- the music.
Both then and as we grew older, Dave was always one of my favorite people to argue with -- and we sometimes did so deep into the night (or well into the morning on my Chicago or East Coast time.) I mean, who ELSE could I call at 4 a.m. in New Haven, knowing that they would SURELY be up and into talking when it was 1 a.m. in San Francisco?
But Dave wasn't just about talking -- boy could he eat! He was a man after my own heart. I have to say I think I enjoyed some of my best meals with Dave, most of them in San Francisco -- but also years ago when he was living in Boston -- in obscure Peruvian or Korean or Malaysian or Mexican or Chinese restaurants that as an out-of-towner I would never have stumbled across without him!
I wanted to get some way up on the web for folks to share their thoughts about our friend, that AWESOME bluesy-jazzy guitarist Dave Bernstein, in time for Tuesday's service.
For now, until someone comes up with a better way, you can just post thoughts about Dave as comments to this post. If anyone wants to be invited to be a co-author, go back to the Dave Bernstein Tribute Page, www.cobaltrhythmkings.com/Dave_Bernstein.htm, e-mail me and I will set you up.
Dave, I'm going to miss you bigtime -- even though we only saw each other every few years in recent years. You taught me a lot -- even if I wouldn't always admit it at the time!
For the rest of you, I'm stuck out here in New Haven, CT., unable to get in to SF for the service because of work commitments. I've been a friend of Dave's for 25-plus years since we were both students at UC Santa Cruz playing together in my second band, which was variously known as "Big Duke and the Blues Machine," "Big Duke and the Blue Members," "Big Duke and the Blues Brokers" or whatever "Big Duke and . . . " we collectively felt like being at the time.
Dave could hardly play guitar back then -- who knew he would some day become the AWESOME guitarist he eventually grew to be. But even then, Dave always had deep, deep feeling for the blues and a wonderful love for -- and knowledge of -- the music.
Both then and as we grew older, Dave was always one of my favorite people to argue with -- and we sometimes did so deep into the night (or well into the morning on my Chicago or East Coast time.) I mean, who ELSE could I call at 4 a.m. in New Haven, knowing that they would SURELY be up and into talking when it was 1 a.m. in San Francisco?
But Dave wasn't just about talking -- boy could he eat! He was a man after my own heart. I have to say I think I enjoyed some of my best meals with Dave, most of them in San Francisco -- but also years ago when he was living in Boston -- in obscure Peruvian or Korean or Malaysian or Mexican or Chinese restaurants that as an out-of-towner I would never have stumbled across without him!
I have other things to say -- and maybe I will sometime soon. But let's get this up!
Rest easy, Dave Bernstein . . . I know that I for one will miss you deeply . . .
Your friend,
Mark Zaretsky
12 comments:
Hello Mark, first of all I have to say thank you for doing this; I don't think I know you but feel as if I do; I've told numerous people in the last week that I feel like a member of a cult- those of us who knew Dave and "got" him are spread around the country or even globe and share something. Your stories sound so familiar; I've know Dave since about 1986 when we met over the blues bins at Rhino Records in Westwood, CA. He told me which T Bone records to buy and before I was done left with a $100 stack of records- all of which turned out to be incredible. Then I heard him play some Charlie Christian stuff for me at my house and my jaw fell on the floor. We stayed friends ever since; I had the honor to be the best man at his wedding.
About eating BBQ and asian food, it will never be the same again, about late night phone calls discussing jazz records, guitar amps, or harmonic concepts there will never be another, and I'm quite sure I'll never know another person to put so much time and patience into his work on the guitar. The music speaks for itself. May Siobahn & his family know that he is loved and missed. One Of A Kind.
Alex Schultz
Hey Alex!
Thanks for responding -- and thanks for being the first Friend of Dave besides me to take the plunge! No, I don't think we know each other, but I know your work -- and have since I picked up my copy of "Blowin' Like Hell" -- and Dave has mentioned that you were friends; and, frankly, the idea of you two musical encyclopedias bumping into each other over a stack of records at Rhino Records tickles me to no end! It sounds like something we might see in a movie some day, don't you think? But -- key question -- who would play Dave??? Have to think about that one! It's such a Dave Bernstein thing, though, for him to be telling you what records to buy! It's also such a Dave thing for them to have all turned out to be great! I forgot about Dave and barbecue -- as with everything else, he had very strong opinions on the subject! I also forgot about hanging out with him at Doggie Diner in Oakland. (Are there any Doggie Diners still left actually open? Somehow, I don't think so.)Anyway, thanks for sharing some thoughts that made me laugh! Best, Mark Z.
Mark,
So glad you started this. I hope others will share some thoughts and memories here -- there are so many people who Dave touched and influenced over the years.
A friend once suggested that in life, there are two kinds of people: "high impact" people, and everyone else. Anyone who knew Dave knows which category applies to him.
My friendship with Dave goes back to 1984 when Dave was my roommate at Berklee. I was a green (as Dave liked to remind me) 18 year-old kid from New Jersey, and here was this intense, wild-haired (yes, Dave still had a lot of hair) 21year-old guy, born in Queens, raised in southern California, already a cultural ambassador, obsessive record collector and burgeoning musical talent. Musical and culinary exloration (funny how THAT theme has emerged!!) ensued, and Dave became Dean Moriarty to my Sal Paradise! I left Berklee a year later with an armful of blues records and a few Freddie King and Magic Sam tunes under my belt. Dave stayed on and applied himself tirelessly to developing his craft as a guitarist and musician. We stayed in touch and, in my eyes, Dave became like the big brother I never had.
Over the years, that relationship evolved into a close friendship between two middle-aged guys. One of the great thrills in my life was being there for his marriage to Siobhan. It gave me great comfort that years earlier Dave had found a soul-mate in Siobhan and that someone so charming and lovely got Dave-- understood his soul and his heart and loved him for the beautiful cat that he really was.
All who knew and loved Dave will remember him as a fighter. He fought for his deeply felt convictions on a range of topics, which could be engaging and even enraging at times -- though the harder he fought, the more correct he usually turned out to be!! Most of all, he stood up for the aesthetic, stylistic and harmonic principles that informed his music. Dave's final fight was the heroic one he waged over the last three years. He inspired me to the end, and I'm going to miss him, always.
Andy Riedel
I first met Dave when going to the Mighty Flyers gigs. Dave would be there hanging out with Alex. We'd end staying after the gig and sit around gossiping about musicians. I hadn't seen him for awhile when he called my then boyfriend /now husband for a Fluffer gig. He didn't remember me and I kept quiet. It wasn't until he did a couple of gigs playing guitar for John Nemeth, that he came up to me and apologized that he didn't remember me sooner. It was a good laugh. I'll miss his good humor.
Back when we were both students at UCSC Dave and I frequently regaled each other with opinions of musicians we liked or disliked. I remember once telling him about a blues piano player I'd heard named Joe Turner. Dave listened to me for a few minutes then stated I was wrong about Turner, he never played the piano; he was in fact (according to David) a great jazz/blues vocalist. We proceeded to argue for a long time about whether Joe Turner was a pianist or a vocalist. The conversation eventually ended, neither of us giving in, each insisting the other was wrong (a typical conversation between me and Dave). Many, many months afterwords, he phoned to tell me he'd just heard Joe Turner playing the piano. In fact, there were two Joe Turners, one the great blues shouter and the other a great piano player.
The second memory - the last time I saw Dave was a late Saturday night in Tower Records on Columbus Street in San Francisco, about twelve years ago. I was rooting around in the "World Music" section looking for recordings by Astor Piazzolla. Dave was there browsing on the other side of the bins. We both agreed Piazzolla was the best composer of tango music we'd ever heard. He recommended I pick up the recording of Zero Hour (a great CD as it turns out) which I did and has been a favorite ever since.
Conversations with David Bernstein were always lengthy and I enjoyed every minute of every one of them. Although it's been many years since he and I last spoke I'll miss him.
Eric Mendelson
Hi, Friends and Loved Ones of Dave,
This post chronicles what a strange, small world it is.
I'm Debbie's neighbor--we moved about 4 doors down from Debbie and her family in 2004. Our kids play together from time to time. Yesterday, I ran into Debbie at SFO, and rode back to LA with her. On the plane, she told me about Dave's death. As it happens, I went to UC Santa Cruz with Dave.
Is your mind boggling? Mine is.
David and I both lived in A Dorm at College 5 from 1981-82. My room was on the adjacent hall from David's, but I was a big admirer of the Ceiling Meal David created.
(Except that I knew Dave as "Bernstein!" Because, usually when I heard his name, it was someone yelling at him doing something obnoxious.)
Bernstein's Ceiling Meal (my name for it these days) was actual food nailed to the ceiling of the dorm hallway, right near the stairs. Every Saturday night, SAGA (the cafeteria; some awful corporation, I guess) served Grade F steak, and you had to turn in your Steak Night ticket to get your slab. One ticket per week, per student. Bernstein took his steak one Saturday night and nailed it to the ceiling. Which was probably healthier for him.
Over the next few weeks, he added a baked potato, more vegetables, bread, dessert (what was it? Pie or something? Can't remember) a napkin, even a Steak Night ticket. It was all arranged as though it were on a table in front of you, ready to eat. Except that it was hanging overhead, getting older and older.
I loved that smelly thing. When I wanted a pick-me-up, I'd walk down the hall and gaze upward at the wondrous shriveled stink that was the Ceiling Meal.
After a few months, the authorities removed it. The odor had gotten really offensive, after all.
I heard tell of, but did not actually witness, another of Bernstein's legendary acts. My friend Elizabeth Merwin hung out with David on occasion. One time, he had the idea to grab a tape recorder, some friends and a bunch of musical instruments and jam in the big ol' dorm bathroom. He turned on the tape recorder, the "band" members all flushed toilets, then they played Free Jazz till they ran out of steam. Then they all traded instruments and started over. None of them necessarily knew how to play any of the instruments. That was beside the point. Apparently, Free Jazz went on for an hour or so.
I wonder what ever happened to that tape recording of it? Was there ever another session?
Bernstein was also known for the ease with which he'd toss out unconscionably crass comments and questions, to anyone that happened to be around. A common question, when being introduced to a pretty girl was, "Do you swallow?" The reaction it got apparently made that one a staple for awhile. I told Debbie I thought he'd used it on me, but I think I actually made THAT part up, just wanting in on the Bernstein legend.
I have often wondered what happened to David Bernstein. He was one of the most memorable guys I ever met, a guy who stood out even in UC Santa Cruz' hotbed of freakiness. Bernstein was hilarious and came off as unafraid and bursting with a love of life. Or at least a love of getting attention for totally batshit crazy hijinks.
Rest in Peace, David Bernstein. I'll always be glad I knew you, even a little bit. And I know there have to be untold people out there who were touched by your unwaveringly original style.
XO,
Abby Cohen
Wow, How sad. I shared a dorm-suite with Dave and Andy my first semester at Berklee. I remember Dave practicing with his metronome, giving both Andy and me a fine example of how it's s'posed to be be done. I remember Dave playing his red '62 reissue Strat through a red-knobbed Super Champ. He called it his "mini Mesa Boogie." I remember Dave turning me on to Freddy King. I remember Dave telling me to give up blues altogether and just stick to classical... lol I wasn't that close to Dave while we were in the dorm. In fact, I chuckled when I read Abby's comment about shouts of "Bernstein!" echoing in the dormitory hallways... Dave was a frequent practical joker, and it took me a while to understand his sense of humor. Eventually we declared a mutually respectful detente, and it wasn't until the following summer that we actually became friends. After I left Berklee we lost touch, but I never forgot Dave's quarky personality, his caustic sense of humor, his confident, self-righteous indignation, nor his powerful love of music. I'm glad to know that he had a family and friends who loved him. Keep the Faith.
- J. Cole, Dallas TX.
I am devastated to read this news. I was searching for Daves website to see if he would be gigging when my family and I visited SF. I met Dave in 1994 when I responded to an ad for guitar lessons. I was a cocky 25yr old who was an accomplised guitarist and thought it would be fun to learn some jazz. The next 3 years I was a weekly guest in Daves apartment on California St. He tore me up and made me realize how little I really knew. Dave charged $25 for and hour and a half, I frequently left writing him a check for 60, even $70! We spent hours listening to records of people I never heard of and peoples whose music changed my life. Dave and I would talk Hank Williams, Funkadelic and Danny Gatton all in a few sentences. I grew up on old country but never looked back and Dave played things I never dreamed of - we listened to Speedy WEst, Jimmy Bryant, Joaquin Murphy. Amazing stuff. He had me relearn the guitar and really GET jazz. Charlie Christian, Charlie PArker, Wayne Shorter, he taught me to think like a horn player. IM almost 40 now and still an active jazz player. When I left Dave, I told him that it was because he had given me a lifetime of things to learn and I had to start working on it! My entire cd collection ( I actually remember in 95 or so when he got a few cds as gifts and they were his first, he still was an album guy) is made up of the DAve Bernstein influence. One time he took me to a party at a guys house that collected country music footage,he ran about 10 errands on the way and dragged me along for the ride. He was a character. I remember Christmas Eve at a club I cant remember on Filmore seeing Dave play blues with an organ player. He was mostly playing blues then but was working hard on jazz. I did not stay in touch and would ocassionaly check on the web to see if he was up to anything. I was so happy a few years ago to stumble on his cd and read the great reviews. I played the cd 1000 times and was so blown away by his playing and how he evolved. I could hear his teaching through his playing. I was really waiting for the next record. My wifes family is in SF and I wanted my kids to see Dave play. Dave Bernstein is a major influence on who I am today. He was a unique guy, taught me about BBQ, BLues, Jazz and many other things. I am very sorry to hear of his loss and will keep his family in my thoughts. Dave - thanks for the music and many memories.
I spent many years as both a student and teacher in various subjects. So, I came to Dave for music theory lessons with very high standards for what I expect from an explanation. Dave was very impressive. His explanations of harmony were of the highest quality. Concise and complete. In short, gems. Excellent, excellent understanding and excellent ability to proceed perfectly logically plus historically in laying out that understanding for others. Every time I pick up my guitar, Dave's musical wisdom lives.
It’s midnight, and there’s a yellowfull moon outside my window. I’ve been reading thoughts about Dave. Earlier this evening, I finished watching Alton Brown boil and eat crawfish and I once again was reminded of Dave. We enjoyed a platter of crawfish in a roadside shack in Louisiana after watching our sister, Debbie and her husband, Nick graduate from McNeese State. This was one of the best meals of my life. Dave and I gorged ourselves on. Wait a minute. I can’t recall if Dave was even there. No matter. Dave was always there in spirit, especially when it came to music and food. Dave is still there and here in spirit. Dave taught me too much. Dave was a teacher. Dave was a student. Dave was an expert. Dave was a novice. Dave couldn’t really care less about the full moon outside my window, although one night while on mushrooms, Dave said something truly wonderful to me: “Go be with the tree.” So, I went with the tree. And we saw that it was good. In 1991, I was working at Bison Brewery in Berkeley. I was managing the music there. I asked Dave for a list of CDs that I should get for the bar. He gave me a great list. Astor Piazzolla, T Bone Burnett. Dave told me to get Tango Zero Hour. I loved it. I still love it. Most customers didn’t. No matter. Piazzolla played on. Dave played too. And so very very well. Dave got music and food in a way that so few do. I watched and listened to Dave while growing up. I looked up to Dave. But what a prick he was. What amazes me most is how many people loved Dave. He was an asshole. But he was honest and true and called the world on its bullshit. For that, he was loved. For that, he set the bar so high for all else to try try try. Little Train listened ceaselessly to Coltrane. Little Train could. Little Train did. Little Train taught us all how to be more honest. I miss my brother, Dave. Are you sleeping, Brother Dave? He who gave me Smile and will make me smile for the rest of my life. He who loved life so much. Earlier this year, I walked along a river that was beautiful. I thought of Dave. I thought that Dave didn’t care much for the outdoors. But he cared more for life than most will ever care for anything. Goodnight, Dave.
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