Admiral Fell Promises

Mark Kozelek has a reputation for unwavering consistency and for being tirelessly downbeat. His music, though generally tinged with melancholy, has grown in depth and maturity through his time with Red House Painters, as a solo artist and now under the Sun Kil Moon moniker.

By my count, this fourth Sun Kil Moon record is the eighth album of original material from Mark Kozelek (spread among twice that many full-lengths), and if you need to hang a story on it: this would be the completely-and-utterly solo-acoustic-record (on the tonally limited nylon-string guitar, too). Before you say, 'So what?' or 'Is that all?', see just how many you can actually name, from the world of US indie, rather than specialist folk music or classical guitar. (That second Palace Brothers record? Surely, something by Songs:Ohia…? Nope. Even Jandek mostly records electric, or with friends, since the late-Seventies.) Unless you assume Mark Kozelek exists in splendid isolation from the commercial world, you might even think the use of nylon-stringed guitar is another hand tied behind the back to show-up the likes of José Gonzalez, with his fancy percussive effects and abrupt twangs; that, and the fact most songs here are twice as long as those on Veneer, and the whole album’s double the length of Pink Moon.

Admiral Fell Promises is Mark Kozelek’s first album under his Sun Kil Moon moniker to feature nothing but his voice and acoustic guitar straight-through, with overdubs kept to an absolute minimum. With this “back to the basics” approach, the focus here is kept entirely on the vocal performances, the songs, and yes, his powerful and unique playing style.

Admiral Fell Promises subverts this, featuring lengthy passages of intricate guitar virtuosity, most notably on Half Moon Bay, Third Moon Seneca and Australian Winter. This is hardly an instrumental album, however, and vocally Kozelek is as reliable as ever; his lethargic delivery characteristically intimate without ever being lugubrious.

This is an odd question to be asking in 2010, after he has spent nearly 20 years making music: What makes a Mark Kozelek solo album different from a Sun Kil Moon album? For most of the 2000s, the distinction was more than just words on a jewel-case spine, as he debuted new material under the Sun Kil Moon banner and then reinterpreted it in live or demo settings as a solo artist. Musically, it always sounded like a matter of electric versus acoustic, full-band versus solo guitar, jammy versus intimate. It's the two sides of a man who has turned himself into a cottage industry through his Caldo Verde label, releasing scores of companion EPs and limited-edition live LPs that keep his old songs alive. But the split between Sun Kil Moon and Kozelek has never come across as merely a sales gimmick. Instead, it's a way to document the complex lives of his songs, which are never quite finished but always hold the potential for rebirth and transformation.