This is the first installment of a reoccurring feature highlighting albums that have slipped through the cracks when initially released but have since been resurrected from the dead.
I must admit that I was unaware that Mount Eerie existed as a band before a week ago, so I regret to inform you that there will be no comparisons or allusions to the group’s prolific past with this piece. Thankfully, Wind’s Poem, the latest LP from founder/band-leader Phil Elverum, is a brilliant enough composition that one doesn’t need background information just to fill an editor’s word count. Already cropping up on a number of Best of ‘09 lists (most notably former Sleater-Kinney guitarist turned NPR blogger Carrie Brownstein’s single album year-end census), this 55 minute epic masterfully strikes a balance between the noisy and the serene and skillfully uses audio to paint a naturalistic scene Robert Frost would be proud of.
You don’t have to be Robert Langdon to realize how meteorological events play a huge role in anchoring the album (track titles named “The Mouth of Sky”, “Wind’s Dark Poem”, and “Wind Speaks” only require eyes and half a brain to figure this out), but Elverum takes this motif past superficial nomenclature and reinforces it with his music. If one were to glance at my notes, words like “deluge”, “thunderous”, “atmospheric” instantly pop out of the page and are present on almost every track. Take the opener “Wind’s Dark Poem” for example: opens with earthquake guitar rumblings / torrents of fuzz drown out the delicate vocals / briefly subsides just enough to provide a clearing for lyrics.
If you didn’t know better, it’s easy for one to interpret the above as a Sunn O))) analysis (which at times, Mount Eerie does have the bass to match), however, instead of bombarding you with harsh song after harsh song, Elverum understands the importance of resolution. Seldom is there a sonically whirlwind track that isn’t immediately followed by a melodically calm song. After “Wind’s Dark Poem”, the clouds break with “Through the Trees” and, as the lyrics suggest, “you can see the light of dawn / through the trees”. But this serenity is more equatable to what is experienced in the eye of a hurricane: just when you think you are in the clear, you are thrown into the backside of the storm. It’s not long (only two songs in fact, with “The Hidden Stone”) before you are whip lashed around with dischordant noise again.
This rough/soft duality is expressed countless times throughout the album, and not just from song order. Although “The Hidden Stone” is a stormy Black Mountain-like song with guitar crashing from all sides, Elverum pairs it with delicate vocals reminiscent of Horse Feathers Justin Ringle’s voice. This is part of the appeal of the band — Elverum’s singing is like a life preserver on top of choppy waters. In fact, the only time Elverum belts out some truly terrifying lyrics is during “Lost Wisdom Pt. II” when he exclaims “I think the screaming wind said my name” which is sung during a lull in Raveonettes-esque (a la Lust Lust Lust) chaotic distortion.
And just like all nightmarish thunderstorms which are destined to slowly fade into just a sprinkle, Wind’s Poem last track “Stone’s Ode” is a fitting conclusion to this mentally taxing album. A brightly composed indie-rock song, “Stone’s Ode” would be viewed as just another above average track that would be forgettable within a week in any other setting. However, after the tumult that is Wind’s Poem, it provides a nice transition to whatever you have next alphabetically on your iTunes.
Here are some tracks from Wind’s Poem that you can check out:
