Mount Eerie // A Crow Looked At Me
Phil Elverum pours out his feelings in an unadorned, spartan acoustic recording.
A Crow Looked At Me
P. W. Elverum & Sun
A shockingly open portrait of a person in mourning, Mount Eerie's eighth studio album is a striking one. Phil Elverum pours out his feelings in an unadorned, spartan acoustic recording similar to Sun Kil Moon, a style glimpsed at on a handful of tracks from Elverum's previous band, The Microphones. Lyrically, Elverum provides incredibly specific details regarding his personal experience following the death of his wife, musician/cartoonist Geneviève Castrée. Passing away in July of 2016, Castrée fell victim to pancreatic cancer at the age of 35. Death is a difficult subject in all instances, and songwriting is no exception. A death in the family consumes your entire existence for a time. An honest and cathartic documentation of this critical time can be helpful for not only the documentarian, but also the audience. Everyone goes through grief, and many people don't have the firsthand experience required to deal with such a shattering event. This album has the ability to help others who've grappled with loss. The raw, quivering open nerve that is A Crow Looked at Me won't be for everyone, but it might just be the perfect thing for someone.
– Nick Warren