|
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Clear Moon By Ben Harsel QuailBellMagazine.com  Phil Elverum, the Washington state musician most known for his work with the indie rock project The Microphones, has been up to much new work as Mount Eerie. His fifth LP release under this new name is titled Clear Moon, and he released it on May 22,2012 through his own record label P.W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd. Clear Moon starts with “Through the Trees Pt. 2,” which I believe is certainly one of its standout tracks. Lyrically, the whole album has a lot to be admired, but in particular this opening track proves to be Elverum’s most successfully succinct effort. About a minute in, he gives us the thesis of Clear Moon with his opening line, “Misunderstood and disillusioned, I go on describing this place and the way it feels to live and die.” He continues “… And it’s hard to describe without seeming absurd. And no there’s no other world, mountains and websites,” giving us an honest look into how he feels as a citizen of Anacortes, Washington. “Though the Trees Pt. 2” slowly but surely picks up layers of reverb drenched instruments as the song rolls on, eventually resulting in an appropriately dense garden of sound, giving us a pleasant preview of what is to come for the rest of the album. Production-wise (and more recently genre-wise), Elverum has always worked under the “Lo-Fi” tag, starting with his days under The Microphones moniker. But I would not necessarily describe Clear Moon as a “Lo-Fi” album. Sure, the production is not something you would hear on a popular radio station but it is somewhere between low and high quality. In fact, it may even be a mix of the two, a technique I have always been fond of. The album is experimental in this way. For example, there is nothing “Lo-Fi” about the quality of the vocals; they seemed to have been recorded with high quality microphones and an appropriate amount of compression for enhancement. But on the other hand, the listener can tell that the drums were not recorded with the same standard of quality, likely having to do with the fact that drum sets are among the most difficult of any live instrument to record precisely without professional studio equipment. But this juxtaposition works and gives Mount Eerie’s music it's undeniable character. In the same vein, the various guitar and keyboard sounds throughout the record are heavily transformed and modulated through effects and editing. Again, their sound qualities may not be technically accurate in the traditional aspect of the recording process, but Elverum’s use of analog equipment and good mixing gives the music a certain poignancy achieved through creative timbre technique. In general, Elverum seemed to be married to a few haunting synth tones throughout the recording of Clear Moon, which can be heard distinctly in tracks like “The Place I Live,” “Clear Moon,” or the appropriately titled outro track “(Synthesizer).” These tones are refreshing to hear in addition to traditional songwriter rock instrumentation, which is usually limited to guitar, bass, and drums. “Lone Bell” is a track that grew on me after a few listens. There is something creepy about this track, yet the way it is able to unnerve the listener is done in such fascinating form. The trippy bass lines in the background hide behind walls and walls of synthesized orchestration, including hooky horn arrangements that harken back to sounds of old spy movies. “House Sound,” another standout of Clear Moon, puts Mount Eerie into the category of modern bands that have delved into the magical abyss of Krautrock (i.e. Deerhunter, Woods, Lower Dens). “House Sound’s” motoric intro consisting of simple syncopated drums, mysterious ambience, and droning electric guitar drives on for the first half of the song. When the cryptically layered vocals come in, the song becomes instantly danceable, containing more accessibility than any of the other tracks on the album. Appearing about halfway through the album, this song, serving as Clear Moon’s primary single release, rewards those listeners who may not want to hear a seemingly lonely guy pour his feelings out into a microphone for 40 minutes. Having said this, the album does run into problems when it drags on, not seeming to change pace enough to keep the average listener enticed for the entirety. The title track, “Clear Moon,” crawls along for over seven minutes at a rather startlingly slow pace. I admire the cinematic drums on this track, made up of sparse booming tom rolls and washy cymbals, but on the other hand I don’t care much for the auto-tuned vocals chanting in technologically enhanced unison. And in the next song, “Yawning Sky,” I found Elverum’s flat vocal style to be a bit distracting. It’s as if his vocals can’t get any quieter, throwing traditional vocal projection technique aside. “Yawning Sky” is a pleasant song, but I do remember beginning to feel a sense of sameness amongst some of the songs when reaching this late point in the album. Of course mixture and variety is not too big of a priority for a project like Mount Eerie, especially within a single album, but at points during my listen I would feel myself being pulled away from the music, resulting in more of an ambient or background music listening experience. However, this lack of song variety does give the album a consistency that I believe was desired conceptually. This cohesion, however dry it may present itself at times, is worthy of praise. Elverum had a message that he wanted to give his listeners via Clear Moon. It’s as if he wasn’t concerned with breaking new grounds musically but rather interested in carefully arranging his words and his instruments into songs that could evoke the certain cry of a modern individual in this world. 
CommentsComments are closed.
|
|||
© Quail Bell Press & Productions, 2024. Founded by Christine Stoddard. Based in Brooklyn. Contact us.
