Sun Kil Moon -
Admiral Fell PromisesPrior to early last year I had never really listened to Mark Kozelek. I'd heard him and had friends who were really into him when I was in college, but what I'd heard never interested me. I can remember a friend playing some Red House Painters for me and just being really bored by it. Too slow, not tuneful enough, I guess. I refused to go see him with one of my friends one time. Anyway, due to reading a lot of anticipation for this release and general praise for this guy's body of work, I decided to finally give him a fair chance. So I started from the very beginning (I think) with
Down Colorful Hill, the first Red House Painters album. At first, I didn't think too much of it. The dated production and very '90s-sounding gloomy chord progressions didn't do a lot for me. But after a while the songs started to dig their way in, drawn out and almost forcibly downcast as they were, and that once unimpressive little album started to turn into a major addiction. Suddenly I found myself looking at two decades of work by a songwriter that I had previously written off completely, and I was really eager to dive in. Rather than just go chronologically, though, I thought it would be a little more enjoyable to go from the outside in, both forwards and backwards, working my way up from the earliest Red House Painters albums and down from his newest Sun Kil Moon releases pretty much simultaneously. And so this album, his latest, is one of the first things of his that I ever listened to.
So far the only other Sun Kil Moon album I can compare this to is
April, and unlike a lot of his longtime fans, I actually like this better.
April is a pleasantly arranged, easy listen, especially compared to some of his more harrowing early RHP stuff, and I can certainly see why a lot of people prefer it. But I love how
Admiral Fell Promises is spare but not stark, melancholy but not cold. It has all the warmth and beauty of
April, but I find it to be more focused, more consistent and enveloping in its mood and atmosphere. Rather than seeming less complete or less deep - as some people have suggested, possibly because it's Mark mostly unaccompanied on finger-picked nylon string guitar - I find it to have greater depth and to have a more definitive sound. To me this is what Kozelek
should sound like.
"Ålesund" is an incredible opener, and it lets you know just what you're in for. It begins with just Mark and his guitar (and remains that way aside from a few subtle background flourishes), but his playing is full and rich, his fluttery finger-picking style a real feast for the ears. This album transports me to a place that I don't want to leave - whenever I'm willing to go there which, I'll admit, isn't always - much like the best and most somber work by Neil Young, Jason Molina, and Will Oldham. In fact, "Half Moon Bay" reminds me a little bit of the kind of stuff Molina has put out under his own name, albeit played and sung more smoothly, or, frankly, a little better. The album drifts on from there pretty uniformly in mood, aesthetic, and quality. Another highlight, in addition to the opener, is "The Leaning Tree" which progresses through three distinct passages, the first probably the warmest and prettiest on the whole record, the second chilly and ominous, and the ending a sort of reconciliation between the two. Then on "Bay of Skulls", after just over an hour, the album ends much like it started, just Kozelek's guitar, intricate, plaintive, and arrestingly beautiful.
It's a fine record, truly the work of an accomplished artist and as whole and satisfying a work as I've yet heard from him. Of course, I've still got more of his catalog to work my way through, and I'm planning to extend the enjoyment of that venture as long as possible. I could certainly stand to spend a lot more time with just this record.
Rating:
8.5/10Here's Kozelek playing "Third and Seneca" from this album at some Norwegian festival:
And here's him playing the title track plus an older song, "Like the River", at some Polish thing: