No Flashlight

Once in a pink moon I become aware of an artists work that affects me in such a way that all of my personal creative ambitions are left flat. Phil Elvrum, three years ago, put all my inadequacies into perspective. Then recording under his “The Microphones” moniker, Elvrum created a world of his own with The Glow Pt. 2, only to outdo himself a little over a year later with the release of one of my all-time favorite albums, as well as the first album I reviewed for whatzup, his Mount Eerie LP.  

The Glow Pt. 2 was a long album comprised of 20 tracks full of immeasurable ideas, while Mount Eerie was the contrary, a focused, non-stop musical work, Mount Eerie was an oddly cerebral rock opera of sorts about both worldly and personal discovery. Eerie received mixed reviews and thus, Elvrum slowed his productivity, releasing only a live album and an online EP in the two years since. After changing over his artistic handle to Mount Eerie, Elvrum (also changed his last name, now spelled Elverum) finally released his follow up album, No Flashlight.

Available in the States exclusively through his recently established P.W. Elverum and Sun record label as a LP/CD combo pack, Flashlight‘s presentation is the work of an art school over-achiever, featuring not only beautiful white vinyl, but a six-by-five-foot fold-out poster that doubles as an extensive set of liner notes. In the text, Elverum begins by explaining each song in detail, going on to contribute photos, poems, lyrics and drawings that he believes enhance the overall Flashlight experience, thus leaving anyone who attempts to review the album with almost too much information, and anyone who buys the album with no reason to read reviews. Elverum’s liners are an interesting read that offer a peak into a true musical eccentric that, for the first time in his career, seems to inhabit the common desire to be fully understood by his listeners.

The album’s opener “I Know No One,” works as an introduction to Elverum’s “story of the night,” singing “what does Mount Eerie mean? I’ve tried to explain, through difficult song,” over washed out accordions, gently plucked nylon-string guitars and a slew of rhythmic percussion in classic Eerie style. As the story begins, Elverum opens with the great line, “your love swells and pounds me, and I know nothing now that I know you. / My face goes blank, my eyes go open gates.” It’s clear right off that Elverum’s focus, while once that of musical textures and experimental compositions, has made room for his newfound penchant for high lyrical quality and storytelling grace.

So as not to ruin the surprises, I’ll leave the details of Elverum’s latest riddle a mystery. As quickly as his cryptic cuts slip in, so do Elverum’s customary musical flourishes. Elverum’s production style could be best described as a “left of the dial” version of current hot-shot Jon Brion, with Phil playing an uncountable number of instruments, many of which you aren’t likely to hear on your everyday rock album. Those familiar with The Microphones’ past work will unquestionably be contented with No Flashlight, while those who aren’t should find it a good preparatory listen for Elverum’s quickly budding catalog.

Sounding as if it should have fallen somewhere between The Glow Pt. 2 and Mount Eerie, No Flashlight incorporates the general format and approach of The Glow while continuing on with the earthy progressive direction of Eerie. As much as I loved The Microphones and Elvrum, Elverum’s Mount Eerie seems to be working out just fine. With two more releases on the horizon, things should be getting interesting for P.W. and Sun, and certainly exciting for his followers, few as they may become. Next up: Eleven Old Songs of Mount Eerie as well as Elverum’s long-labored Singers project.    8.5/10

Written by G. William Locke