In this recent period of my life, I've taken the time to fully immerse myself within the realm of Phil Elverum's works, and it has truly changed my perspective on what the singer-songwriter genre can be and what it can accomplish artistically. His production that feels almost natural in its roots. His personal lyrics that paint a vivid image into the listener's psyche, never holding back punches into the truth of Phil's own personal torment or elation. And most importantly his acoustic guitar playing that hypnotically burns its soul into the heart of the audience. Like many, The Glow Pt 2 was my introduction to Phil's world of distorted bass spiritually in the warm blanket of natural acoustics. It is a truly heartbreaking album, following the dreams of a man who has been struck by heartbreak and its effects. Truly an album I come back to to feel alone. Finally, that brings me to the final microphones album (or song): The Microphones in 2020.
It Was Hot and Mount Eerie introduced me to the further ideas of what Elverum could produce. It Was Hot gives a warm underwater lofi trip through a relationship characterized by the central "Glow." In contrast, Mount Eerie finds a man fearful of death, yet ultimately yearning for it, slashed with cold booming trumpets and an anxiety filled attack on an individual's connection with those all around them.
Under the Mount Eerie moniker, A Crow Looked at Me. One of the most heartbreaking albums I've ever heard struck me at a time when my panic had reached its peak, plagued by the prospect of moving onto adulthood and what those changes can bring. An album that puts into perspective what one has, appreciating it while it lasts, before it is ultimately and suddenly pulled from them. Crow puts the listener into a cold familiar home-like anguish that is unparalleled in its depiction of images. From a chair leading to the sunset, bloody tissues, old photographs, or the omen of ravens above, this album puts the listener straight into the emptiness of grief and loss.
As I mentioned in the Crow, Phil's work has hit me at a transitional point in my life where I must move onto a new chapter of my life. A chapter that feels disconnected from the experiences of my past, yet so deeply rooted in those connections I've built within myself and the others around me. Roots that have set themselves into the deeper aspirations of my soul, making me question what I am, who I want to be, and what I want to ultimately achieve with the small amount of time I hold left (Whether that be the time I hold left in my spot now, the time I hold with those special to me, or the time I hold as an individual).
Phil captures the same reflective values that I've held in my own life in a brief snapshot. He reflects by allowing himself to breathe and live a previous life: a life as The Microphones. In the single song on the album, Phil creates a panning trance-like line reminiscent of his work on the "The Pull." This line acts as the ground for the listener to stand on, the heartbeat that allows the words to breathe. Phil's singing starts about 5 minutes in, structuring the framework for which the heart can live in. He somewhat chronologically speaks on the vents through his life, referencing specific dates, ages, shows, ideas, and emotions that have shaped the world for which Phil roots himself in, vividly calling back to the gentle imagery of the Crow. And much like the Crow it's easy to hear the people around him speaking through his word. Whether that's his wife, past partners, past contributors, or just the amalgamation of his own soul, Phil pulls the listener into his own world, letting their hearts beat with his own. This is a stark progression from the Glow Pt 2 and Mount Eerie, which, while very immersive, present a less down-to-earth moment of Phil's life.
This progression from the times of the early Microphones doesn't stop Phil from losing the meaning or life that drew from those moments. With constant references to "taking my shirt off in the yard" and "being carried away by vultures" Phil allows his past self to speak through his heart now, although through a new lens.
This musically speaks through the familiar distorted bass that shines through the significant moments of his life, with the distorted bass being one of the many added layers that find their way ebbing in and out of the heart of the piece. Other elements that can be found include a simple bass drum beat, chordal vocal melodies, twinkly piano flourishes, and droning synth pitches that pan with the centerpiece. These can be interpreted as the different lyrical ideas sonically finding themselves familiarly coming in and out of Phil's life, almost feeling like they were always there to begin with.
I would finally make a very strong recommendation to experience this piece with the accompanying video, which displays a wide arrange of photographs taken throughout Phil's life. This flurry of images helps enhance the nostalgic, home-yearning emotions that Phil hopes to draw out of the audience, while giving greater context to the sometimes abstract musical and lyrical setting.
The Microphones in 2020 is a culmination of Phil Elverum's work and it is a summation of Phil's life up to that point. It is a masterpiece that is unafraid of pushing the singer-songwriter genre even further, moving the beautiful lofi production of previous records into another retrospective perspective. It draws feelings of nostalgia for better times, drawing heavily from the work of the Microphones and Mount Eerie in the past. It reaches out for a greater future, creating a droning heartbeat that feels like it may never end.
And perhaps, as long as the heart may never end, the pain may never end as well. And perhaps when moving onto a new chapter, someone can retain what marks their individuality or throw it all away to move onto a distortion of their past. And perhaps, this individual struggle never ends. And perhaps fear is around every corner, engulfing loved ones who may already feel miles away. And perhaps, the glow is gone and may feel like it can never come back. And perhaps, the struggle for the glow may never end.
It never ends.
And that's okay.
