What's a Listening Log? Well, the idea is quite simple. It's a weekly segment that consolidates all the mini-reviews Dozens Of Donuts has given on RateYourMusic over the past week, split between the Past and Present. A straightforward grading scale has been put in place, ranging from A+ to F-, with C acting as the baseline average. There is no set amount of reviews per week, just however many I get around to reviewing. And don't expect week-of reviews. I wait one month - with at least three listens under my belt - before I rate and review an album. Enjoy!
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After the desolate woefulness of Dawn: Winter Journal, an album that tested my patience and preoccupation like none other, Phil Elverum returns to The Mircophones' era of deceit and uneasiness on Wind's Poem. Here, there's an amalgamation of styles regarding Elverum's past and his current iteration of Mount Eerie, essentially transporting the summer warmth of his adolescent restlessness as seen on It Was Hot, We Stayed In The Water, The Glow Pt. 2, and the like, for harsh winter fortitude with a maturity aged like wine. Wind's Poem plays with a litany of styles to elicit emotion, which coincidentally was my strongest criticism of Dawn; it's total lack of emotional variability. Though the undulation between weary Avant-Folk and brooding Atmospheric Black Metal becomes a tad predictable (using the soft-hard dynamics frequently), it's still a pleasant surprise that enriches the ambience of winter a great deal.
Prior to the literary references of Twin Peaks filling up 'Between Two Mysteries,' it was obvious that song - with its fantastical, droning synthesizers and slow-moving sway - was paying homage to the David Lynch masterpiece. But beyond that, once I became aware of Elverum's faithfulness, the famed Twin Peaks aesthetic started popping up everywhere; The most obvious of which is Wind's Poem's general misshapen tone, lost amidst the fog and blanketed snow. The 11-minute elegy 'Through The Trees' is a gorgeous Drone that familiarizes itself with the show's moving downward shots of endless forest, while 'Ancient Questions' and 'Stone’s Ode' evokes the scented romanticism of nature and shattered intimacy. Of course, the overbearing trudge of 'The Hidden Stone,' 'Mouth Of Sky,' and '(Something)' reflect the dark, evil mysteries looming within for good measure. Great album and a perfect place to end my walk through Mount Eerie's discography, knowing the uneventful (in my eyes) Singer/Songwriter to soon be rekindled.
B-
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I can see why Katie Dey's Flood Network is labelled a hidden gem for some, lost amongst a sea of mid-2010's Bedroom Pop. Few albums in the intriguing field have done this well at communicating inwardness and equitable empathy. With the way Flood Network flows harmoniously between its many interludes and sugar-injected Pop spikes, Dey herself becomes fully immersed and wholly imbued in the aesthetic she bathes herself in. Ignoring Youth Lagoon's immaculate Year Of Hibernation (which, in some ways, is the older brother to Flood Network), nothing comes as close to materializing an authentic Bedroom Pop style than what Dey crafts here. It's intimate, self-reflective, and wise beyond its years, yet comes equip with a sense of joviality as if Dey herself is gripping to her waning days of adolescence.
Other comparisons can be heard in Animal Collective (namely the fuzzy static of Spirit They've Gone), Why?, Alex G, and The Go! Team at their most melodramatic zaniness ('Fleas,' 'Frailty'). Neutral Milk Hotel and My Bloody Valentine have also been name-dropped, and while those comparisons are a little less tactile, the beam of inspiration - Loveless' blanketed wash, On Avery Island's carefree incoherency - are most certainly felt. Flood Network is an excellent album that fights with the highs and lows of teenage confusion. The linear transformation from dainty fledgling to stagy blossom child is a true sight to behold, marked most prominently by the mid-album climax 'Fear O The Light.'
B
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2001 | Chamber Pop | Listen
A MOMENTARY RESPITE OF PURE SERENITY
There isn't much to say about I'm Waking Up To Us. It's another successful Belle & Sebastian EP, in that no song outliers as an unnecessary release. Sure, much like Jonathan David, this isn't on par with their 90's run - largely thanks to the absence of a sterling standout - but I'm Waking Up To Us is admirable nonetheless. Prosaic? A tad. Predictable and to some extent uneventful? Yeah, maybe. But early 2000's Belle & Sebastian had a knack for quality Pop with an air of sophistication, and that's rife here, namely 'I'm Waking Up To Us' and 'I Love My Car.' Both evoke a rush of nostalgia, the former recalling The Kinks' gaily Pop while the latter, with its swelling of horns and frolicking joviality, seems almost Randy Newman-esque. Only 'Marx & Engels' stumbles, and that's due to its formulated complacency akin to Camera Obscura, a noticeable mark on 2000's Chamber Pop.
C+
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2002 | Indietronica | Listen
TRAVERSING NARNIA DRAPED IN WARM, WEIGHTED QUILTS
The most noticeable difference between múm's debut Yesterday Was Dramatic - Today Is Ok and their sophomore release Finally We Are No One is what also sets it apart; Vocals. Twin sisters Gyða Valtýsdóttir and Kría Brekkan hinted at such an expanse with the debut's second best song - ignoring the outstanding intro 'I'm 9 Today' - 'The Ballad of the Broken Birdie Records.' This time around their presence is much more profound, injecting a human element into múm's otherwise fanciful world. Despite using the English language, certain tracks like 'Green Grass Of Tunnel' and 'K/half Noise' are near-indecipherable, causing similarities to emerge between the sisters and fellow Icelandic raconteurs Sigur Rós and their artificial language Vonlenska. This makes for quite the arousing, whimsical aura, paired wonderfully with múm's soft, blanketed Glitch and Indietronica.
Much like their debut there's a handful of standouts, with rather forgettable periods of atmosphere-lifting thrown in. Finally We Are No One's greatest misstep is that these all happen in the middle, causing the LP to drag before 'Finally We Are No One's' textural melodies and 'The Land Between Solar Systems'' stoic Post-Rock (akin to early Do Make Say Think or Auburn Lull) rekindle that pairing between charm and quality. Elsewhere, the final two best tracks come in the aforementioned 'Green Grass Of Tunnel' - an essential Indietronica cut - and 'Don't Be Afraid, You Have Just Got Your Eyes Closed' which features an adorable, synthetic bounce and innocence akin to Röyksopp. Another entrancing, though not overwhelmingly grand múm album.
B-
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