Mount Eerie
A Crow Looked at Me

“A Crow Looked At Me” is not a musical album, it is an unrestrained and quiet release.

“A Crow Looked At Me” is a husband and father in mourning, it is a grief suffocated by a guitar in hand, soothed by a few chords, consoled by microscopic percussion, and sweetened by occasional touches on the piano.

It could be the new (2017) beautiful work by Mount Eerie but it will never be for me. It is a little voice that, with difficulty, manages not to break into tears, it is a long soliloquy worth paying attention to. Its words are everything, they are the life of his wife who has left, they are death that presented itself with notice in a family like thousands of others, they are a child without a mother. It is pure tragedy elevated to art, an intimate and collected suffering to which we approach timidly, respectful and silent as when entering a mortuary. It is a work that deserves respect because, at certain moments, we can only come closer offering our compassion, not a word misplaced, not a senseless gesture. Perhaps it is the most anti-commercial work I've ever had the chance to listen to, it is music only for Phil Elverum. It is death come to life and has the form of a crow looking straight into your eyes.

I imagine it is not easy, after these lines, to approach such a work. Those who will feel inclined will not find “music” but only a man who, perhaps as happened to me, might become almost a friend. Who knows, maybe when he was closed in his room recording this album, he hoped to find many friends like me. And I am sure he will also find them here in Deb.

Hey You, remember, together we stand, divided we fall…