The Microphones - Microphones In 2020 (Album Review)

 

The Microphones - Microphones In 2020

(2020)

My copy: 2020 press by P.W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd. 

The last time Phil Elverum released a full-length under The Microphones namesake, it was to shed the identity via the long-form, conceptually diverse Mount Eerie album. In 2020, Elverum reawakened his Microphones persona with another transitional masterpiece - consisting of just one all-encompassing track split into three distinct movements. The structure is captivating, with a focus on executing the album’s concept through the instruments. As the cherry on top, the lyrics are perhaps his greatest work to date. 

The first side opens with the hypnotic strumming of mysterious chords that build the foundation for the entire 40-plus minute piece. The rhythm is just slightly uncomfortable, which furthers the anticipation in the atmosphere. Elverum’s last three to four albums as Mount Eerie were gentle, haunting and seemingly formless with Phil seeking answers in the wake of the passing of his wife Genevieve Castree. On Microphones In 2020, the mood is more focused - the emotional whirlwind he has chronicled has now begun to settle into a fierce, partly cynical but largely philosophical energy. When the chords shift and Elverum’s voice finally appears, his tone is tired but sharp. His poetry is delivered through soft singing though there is a rawness between the lyrical honesty and Elverum’s borderline monotone delivery that utterly demands you read along with what he has to say. 

Elverum muses on the relationship between life and death, creation and destruction and the ultimate truth that everything in existence is cyclical. We are led through an intensive history of Elverum’s musical career, through hazy vignettes of his childhood and serene bouts of introspection. Other instruments subtly clamber as if from another other room, before booming drums reinforce Elverum’s vocal cadences. The instruments battle through their own self-contained cycles; drums and distorted guitars rise and retreat, like ocean waves, until the first movement fades away with dense, sludgy bass. 

If the album were compared to film structure, part 2 would contain the climax: and Elverum delivers spectacularly. The acoustic guitar continues endlessly as the vocals mix in harmonies and added layering. Elverum is penning a love letter to creativity, his stream of consciousness unearthing what is essentially the culmination of years spent pondering art and life. His professions are more than just rambling; the lyrics are poetic and thematic and thoughtfully arranged here. As more distortion creeps in, the song begins to sway and breathe as if it were self aware - its disposition sours as it recedes to dark, droning ambiance. The musical nihilism is softened by pinpricks of bright piano, and suddenly we realize that the initial strumming has been missing for several minutes as it slowly returns. The guitar releases its tension with open strums before a beautiful collage of warm drones absolves Elverum of all responsibility, allowing everything to bask in this peaceful reward for just a little while. The catharsis is unrivaled.

Though the album peaks at the end of part 2 with what is probably the most impressive pay off in any of Elverum’s releases, the artist still has sentiments to express as the original guitar picks up again for one final movement. This final section is the most layered, with instruments and sound effects again appearing and fading ritualistically. While part 3 is long past the instrumental peak, it features some of Elverum’s most poignant pieces of lyricism yet. Nature sounds quietly emerge as Elverum notes that he will “...never stop singing this song,” as it is the ultimate expression of all his work. Things gradually slow as the lyrics mull over everything they’ve touched on, threatening to dismiss their reminiscing as “embarrassing.” The song perfectly ends without resolving because as Elverum says himself: “There is no end.” 

Microphones In 2020 might be his best work yet, though it is undercut only slightly by the third part which takes some of the gravity away from the peak that is the second part’s resolution. Still, these are some of the most engaging lyrics out of an “alternative” artist in years, and the record should be heard with a lyric sheet at the ready. It’s rare that music really and truly physically affects us, and in the warm, soothing tones at the end of part 2, it truly felt as though the song were an entity of its own that wanted desperately to be hugged. But I suppose such ideas could easily be dismissed as overly romantic.