Music Review: Elephant Micah, Where In Our Woods

By Melissa Bratcher

Elephant Micah’s (Joseph O’Connell) songs on Where In Our Woods sound archaic and primal, but in a quiet kind of way. They’re hushed and spare, connected to the earth and the air and the migratory patterns of birds. Where In Our Woods haunts and moves me, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

On Where In Our Woods, the silences are as important as the notes played. Elephant Micah doesn’t shy away from moments that let the music breathe. The songs are dreamlike and languid; they’re so muted (with the exception of the slow waltz of “Demise Of The Bible Birds,” in which O’Connell is joined by Bonnie Prince Billy) that it’s arresting.

Where In Our Woods is a lo-fi affair with sparse instrumentation. Acoustic guitar is a delicate thread through the album, intimate enough to hear fingers on the strings. The drums, when used, are low and cavernous. When another instrument appears, it’s almost shocking.

Lyrically, Where In Our Woods is full of evocative turns of phrase and stories. There’s a very distinct time and place running through the album, which is steeped in nature. In “No Underground,” he sings “These are not our winter clothes/these are only costumes” and goes on to elucidate “sequined shoes/golden robes/all of them embroidered with roses.” O’Connell’s voice is is soothing and resonant and, again, the spaces between the notes are so important. You have to admire an artist that doesn’t feel it’s necessary to cram every moment with sound.

The sonorous drums of “Albino Animals” creates an interesting juxtaposition with the graceful acoustic guitar. The drum is tribal and the flute that comes in reflects the Native American themes (“Our hunters have murdered a rare white deer”). The song builds quietly in intensity. O’Connell can fit things in lyrically that on first glance wouldn’t work with the rhythm of the song, but because he sings so ponderously (in a very good way), these things work. He creates a mood. He tells a story and that story feels timeworn.

The sounds of the vastness of space are wound through “Light Side,” a song of rooftop space searching. It’s both grand and restrained. The guitar on “Monarch Gardens” is gorgeous and delicate, apropos of the subject matter. Lovely flute flits through like the titular insect.

“Slow Time Vultures” has a low-key buzz that feels subconscious, like an unplugged amp. The rhythm of the guitar feels like an appropriately ancient heartbeat as O’Connell sings about the vultures, “Ours are the spoils and the things that we can find in our own time.” It’s haunting.

Haunting the the word I keep coming back to. Not eerie, but the kind that stays with you in your brain and nestles in and makes itself at home. Where In Our Woods is such an atmospheric, moving record. Elephant Micah has made an album that breathes and is organic, and that feels sacred. Where In Our Woods is truly wonderful. It feels like a fantastic secret.

Where In Our Woods was released January 20 from Western Vinyl.