Mount Eerie – The Dome, London 17/11/08

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Olympia-based lo-fi singer-songwriter kingpin-musician person-type thing – Phil Elvrum is looking slightly nervy and awkward. He’s plugging his fender strat and adjusting his pedal settings, prepping for the gig to begin in an odd venue. I had never visited The Dome before tonight and you half expect a wedding entourage to burst through the doors for a night to drunkenly dance the night away to Wet Wet Wet and Bryan Adams. It’s true. But it contains a charming non-conventional element, especially for London, which lends itself to Phil’s Mount Eerie tonight for a night of electric aural goodness.

I didn’t quite know what to expect leading up to this show. I’d seen him on previous occasions and this, the fourth, was the first where he’d been playing with his electric guitar. The previous occasions he’d either been solo acoustic, or backed with a band (Herman Dune) or playing his Casio-themed songs … so it’s always a mixed bag. I love that. I really do. There are too many bands that come around too often who seem to perform the songs exactly the same, and sometimes in the same exact order. The only difference being the venue. Usually larger. And usually higher ticket prices. So it’s nice to be surprised and feel like you’re getting a new experience sometimes, rather than see an exact carbon copy.

So it’s Phil, alone with an electric guitar, a stereo set-up with a distortion and a delay with a reverse delay built in with a looping function. He’s got his little set list all folded nicely into the breast pocket of his red checkered shirt which he reads intently after each song. He rolls through ‘Flaming Home’, an updated version of his song ‘Let’s Get Out Of The Romance’ theme, from the new ‘Lost Wisdom’ release in conjunction with Julie Doiron and Fred Squire which sounds exquisite. Later, ‘You Swan, Go On’, a song I’d been listening to over the summer since I first heard it under it’s guise of ‘As Good As It Got’. It sounds delicately harsh with it’s underlying descending chord sequence but with words like “With your hand down my throat, you held on to my heart and pumped blood through”. Mmm sumptuous. He ends the song with an almost metal-like outro, complete with some subtle guitar shredding with harrowing feedback.

The personal highlight of the evening for me was Phil performing the very rare and rather fantastic ‘The Boom’. Initially available on the Live In Copenhagen triple vinyl set and later recurring in themes on later releases (‘Stop Singing’ from No Flashlight and it’s Casio incarnation on ’11 Old Songs of Mt Eerie’). It’s achingly brooding, but just magnificent as it soaks in a swarming dreaminess and majesty. Phil delicately singing about singing songs, writing books of songs, growing his hair, walking like he was an ancient man and marrying the moon while being drenched in a pool of harsh layered guitar noise. It hurts it’s so good. I’m serious. ‘I Hold Nothing’ drifts along almost aimlessly lost, intentionally, as Phil reminisces about how the power of love can resort the whole world and it’s earthly possessions, irrelevant. (“So I hold nothing, now that I hold you”) as he hones and tames his wailing guitar like a wild horse… before finding direction on a sweet, wonderful and memorable guitar riff refrain as he lists how in generous way he gives long walks to the dogs, and puts commas in songs. He sings so assured and confident and cements the song down by its feet.

Later on ‘With My Hands Out’, Phil finds release in starting over. “Though I am soaked, and I am cold, I will be clean… I want to come out of this robbery with my hands up…”. His sense of relief and resignation in voice on making this declaration is both resolute and tentative. I think I get the chills. And it’s definitely not due to the draft coming in. ‘The Bottomless Pit’ turns into a pulsing upbeat pop song in electric form, with its humorous lyrics. “I have actually seen it, the bottomless pit on the end of the trail. It’s not that far from here, I can give you precise directions, I have seen it. But you don’t have to go there, it would be pointless because I have seen it…”. People around me laugh the kind of laugh where they are too afraid to laugh out too loud as to ruin the song but to laugh just loud enough to let the musician know we appreciate them. I think one thing I am certain of, is that Phil knows just how much he’s appreciated as he finishes his set, exits the stage and makes his way to table by the doors for merch duties to a rapturous applause.

Mount Eerie on MySpace