El año pasado falleció la cantante e ilustradora Geneviève Castrée por cáncer en las pancreas y fue entonces que su esposo, Phil Elverum, decidió pasar un tiempo grabando un disco en el cuarto de ambos y con los instrumentos de ella, siendo el resultado el disco A Crow Looked At Me y que saldrá a la venta el 24 de Marzo bajo el nombre Mount Eerie.
Este contendrá 11 temas y pueden escuchar Real Death en la parte de abajo, la cual les prometemos que los pondrá a llorar a más no poder.
Tracklist:
01 “Real Death”
02 “Seaweed”
03 “Ravens”
04 “Forest Fire”
05 “Swims”
06 “My Chasm”
07 “When I Take Out The Garbage At Night”
08 “Emptiness pt. 2″
09 “Toothbrush/Trash”
10 “Soria Moria”
11 “Crow”
También les dejamos una carta que escribió el músico.
Why share this much? Why open up like this? Why tell you, stranger, about these personal moments, the devastation and the hanging love? Our little family bubble was so sacred for so long. We carefully held it behind a curtain of privacy when we’d go out and do our art and music selves, too special to share, especially in our hyper-shared imbalanced times. Then we had a baby and this barrier felt even more important. (I still don’t want to tell you our daughter’s name.) In May 2015 they told us Geneviève had a surprise bad cancer, advanced pancreatic, and the ground opened up. ‘What matters now?’ we thought. Then on July 9th 2016 she died at home and I belonged to nobody anymore. My internal moments felt like public property. The idea that I could have a self or personal preferences or songs eroded down into an absurd old idea leftover from a more self-indulgent time before I was a hospital-driver, a caregiver, a child-raiser, a griever. I am open now, and these songs poured out quickly in the fall, watching the days grey over and watching the neighbors across the alley tear down and rebuild their house. I make these songs and put them out into the world just to multiply my voice saying that I love her. I want it known.
DEATH IS REAL could be the name of this album. These cold mechanics of sickness and loss are real and inescapable, and can bring an alienating, detached sharpness. But it is not the thing I want to remember. A crow did look at me. There is an echo of Geneviève that still rings, a reminder of the love and infinity beneath all of this obliteration. That’s why.
