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Zen and the Art of
Mountain Climbing
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The
Microphones: Mount Eerie
K, 2003
Rating: 4.5
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Posted: January 27,
2003
By
Laurence Station
It's almost too easy to dismiss principal Microphone Phil Elvrum's
music as overly simplistic, or to condescendingly peg it as childlike. His
2000 release It Was Hot, We Stayed In the Water sounds like the
title of an instructive children's book. 2001's The Glow Pt. 2
serves up the following lyrical shared secret: "I took my shirt off in the
yard/ No one saw that the skin on my shoulders was golden." Indeed, Elvrum,
with his quavering, sing-speak vocals (like a pre-teen's voice forever on
the edge of breaking), brings a wide-eyed fascination and near-giddy
hyper-eagerness to his explorations of the nuances and, critically, the
hidden spaces between musical notes. This no doubt is a quick turnoff for
those who simply have little time for Elvrun's presumably neo-primitive,
at times insouciant -- though never precious -- sound.
Big mistake. On deeper listens, Elvrum is all about ideas, wrestling
with profound philosophical issues (Why are we here? What happens to us
when we die?), but never in an obnoxiously dogmatic manner. Elvrum wants
the listener to enjoy the wonder of life with him, to marvel at things
that could easily be taken for granted, and perhaps leave behind a few
burdens. Profundity doesn't equal verbosity; insight isn't equal to the
number of 50-cent words one tosses around (a lesson from which this
reviewer could surely benefit). Elvrum may use the Microphones primarily
as a musical outlet, but it's also a way for him to document his feelings
about life and the beauty (and often sheer terror) of the world around
him.
To that end, Mount Eerie is a five-song story cycle about a boy
(Elvrum) who is born, greets the sun, ascends a mountain, dies, and then
has a massive, post-mortem revelation. There's more to it than that, of
course, and it's in the discovery of the various themes and ideas flitting
about that the album takes on deeper shading and ultimately reveals itself
to be the Microphones' finest work to date. The expressively illustrated
liner notes quote 13th century Japanese Zen Buddhist master Dôgen's
Treasury of the Eye of the True Dharma; the notion of
rebirth/reincarnation (edging ever closer toward Enlightenment) is
prevalent throughout. There's also an unmistakably Sisyphean aspect to the
trial Elvrum must endure in his quest to reach the mountaintop. Is it
better to be reborn closer to the mountain's apex, or does one learn more
about oneself by having to start over again from the bottom? (Just for the
record, Elvrum begins his journey at sea level.)
It's easy to look at the album as straight biography, to associate
Mount Eerie's bucolic imagery with Elvrum's hometown of Anacortes on
Washington State's Fidalgo Island -- the highest point around being Mount
Erie. Thematically, Elvrum incorporates elements from his previous two
albums: the bellowing tugboat that runs the length of The Glow Pt. 2,
as well as that album's concluding heartbeat, open the album's first
track, "The Sun," while It Was Hot's "Drums" returns, refortified,
picking up seamlessly where the heartbeat drops off. The drums rise and
fall dramatically (creation and destruction canceling each other out)
before Elvrum chimes in near the eleven-minute mark. A cowbell and
trumpet, coupled with a white noise washout of a climax make for a
stunning introduction.
"Solar System" offers a peaceful respite, though hinting at the coming
darkness ("Let the flash flood begin/ Wash me down the canyon").
"Universe," with its clattering bone rattle percussion, ponders "How many
times have I died up here before?" while Elvrum admits to feeling
"aimless, alone, and unraveling." That sense of menace takes physical form
on "Mt. Eerie," as Death arrives (courtesy of the basso fury of Little
Wings' Kyle Field), Elvrum is slain and his body is picked clean by
scavenging birds (voiced by Karl Blau) -- followed by a rainstorm that
washes everything away. Mount Eerie concludes with a bodiless Elvrum
confronting the Universe ("Now that I've disappeared/ I have my sight") and
discovering eternity within. Master Dôgen would doubtless be pleased.
Mount Eerie loses its footing at points, flagging noticeably
after Elvrum encounters Death (just because he's dead doesn't mean that
the music has to drift quite so listlessly as well -- why is death in
music always so, well, funereal?). And the encounter with Enlightenment
could be a little more sonically expansive. But these are minor quibbles.
Elvrum (along with his fellow Microphones) has scaled new heights with
this latest release, one that will hopefully enable him to keep making his
unique brand of music until true enlightenment finally arrives.
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