It’s an album that revels in interpretation and grows larger and nearly overpowering in its ability to draw the listener into its dense layers of distortion, cascading dissonance, and fleeting moments of stunning clarity.
It’s complex, destructive, and infinite.
It has a facing-the-beast quality of a punishing spiritual quest, as if Elverum steeled himself and left his house at midnight, barefoot, and just kept walking.
It is a profound statement of an artist trying to find a sense of belonging, and it is rather sublime to wander along with this album’s creator and get a sense of one’s own mortality.
Elverum takes the space of Ocean Roar‘s 40 minutes to perfectly capture how it feels to be Phil Elverum, to live inside his head, as it looks out into the ocean’s horizon.
From unforgiving seas to rain-drenched walks through the evergreens, he ropes you right into a very particular, personal experience.
There are definitely points of real quality and interesting experimentation but it feels like it is missing a few more significant moments and would benefit from maybe a little less din.
|# 11 -||Beats Per Minute|
|# 29 -||Cokemachineglow|
|# 34 -||No Ripcord|
|# 38 -||Stereogum|
|# 4 -||Tiny Mix Tapes|
|# 6 -||Nitsuh Abebe (New York Magazine)|