David Bromberg

The very first song on David Bromberg’s very first album is one of the wryest, most raw-nerved breakup notes in music history. The drumless tune is propelled only by an elongated R&B bass riff, which lets listeners get close to Bromberg’s gentle guitar touches and his incongruous voice. “Oh yes I know alright, how much I’ll watch you at night,” he yelps in the final verse. “Good god, I’m not made of stone!” “The Last Song for Shelby Jean” set the tone for Bromberg’s career, which is defined by beautifully crafted folk music subverted by a warped wit. “The Boggy Road to Milledgeville” and “Lonesome Dave’s Lovesick Blues” show Bromberg’s unironic affection for purebred bluegrass playing, but that’s only half of who he is. “Sammy’s Song” (which features uncredited harmonica playing by Bromberg’s pal Bob Dylan) is like a Raymond Carver short story set to Woody Guthrie music. Therein lies Bromberg’s charm. Rather than impersonate the bluesman he admired, the Ivy League graduate from Westchester reformed American roots music in his own awkward image. The results are at once impeccable and deeply self-deprecating.