Review
"A Crow Looked at Me" by Mount Eerie is a haunting release that feels as raw and impactful as a shard of obsidian. In the wake of Phil Elverum's personal tragedy—the loss of his wife, Geneviève Castrée—the album unfolds with a stark, lo-fi aura. The songs reflect a diary-like account of his sorrowful journey, with honest lyricism intertwined with minimalistic instrumentation that ensures you can hear each emotional note echoing, much like the grounding properties of smoky quartz.
Phil Elverum, renowned for his more experimental past works, strips everything down in tracks like "Real Death" and "Ravens." There's no sugar coating or evasive metaphors; similar to the clear-cut edges of a labradorite, which encourages truth to emerge, the songs confront mortality in its most naked form. The echoes within the album's title, "A Crow Looked at Me," hint at fleeting significance observed in mundane experiences—a challenging concept, much like the mysteries locked within the depths of a moonstone.
Although this journey through grief is draining, the process serves a purpose, much like the energetic purification of amethyst. The music forces acknowledgment of life’s inevitable moments, touching a spiritual chord for both the mind and soul. "A Crow Looked at Me" resonates profoundly in Mount Eerie’s discography not only for its courage to stand in sorrow but also for the raw emotional connectivity it fosters in the crystallization of grief. Considered a touchstone of genuine expression, it’s an emotive and necessary exploration for listeners navigating the tides of loss. - Marina
