{"id":12248,"date":"2022-08-24T09:07:31","date_gmt":"2022-08-24T14:07:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ckuw.ca\/stylus\/?p=12248"},"modified":"2022-08-31T20:36:30","modified_gmt":"2022-09-01T01:36:30","slug":"album-review-the-secret-beach-songs-from-the-secret-beach","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ckuw.ca\/stylus\/2022\/08\/24\/album-review-the-secret-beach-songs-from-the-secret-beach\/","title":{"rendered":"Album Review :: The Secret Beach :: Songs From The Secret Beach"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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by Noah Cain<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The opening track and lead single of Songs from The Secret Beach <\/em>by The Secret Beach is called \u201cThe Secret Beach.\u201d So, what (and who and where) is The Secret Beach? If this were a murder mystery, \u201cMicah Erenberg in the Interlake with the Tascam 388 Recording Console\u201d would be an accurate, albeit inadequate answer. The Secret Beach contains multitudes. It is the evening behind the wind and a cat pawing at static on a TV screen. It is looking for a way out while knowing it needs to be there to be the one for everybody it will become. It is Existential Interlake Psych-Surf.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

Rather than seeking detached perfection in the album\u2019s production, Erenberg\u2019s analog approach has given Songs from The Secret Beach <\/em>a raw presence and intimacy reminiscent of The Band\u2019s recordings at Big Pink. At various points (most powerfully on \u201cGod is\u2026\u201d), my attention was drawn to the act of recording, the specificity of the moments in time that Erenberg has captured on this album. A screen door swings shut, fingers squeak on strings, objects move about the room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Above this sonic landscape, Erenberg\u2019s lyrics float like clouds. They are precise (\u201cyou know the edges of every broken plan\u201d), sweet (\u201clike a bee loves honey, a tree loves rain, I miss you again\u201d), funny (\u201cGod eats a paella some cool kid made all wrong\u201d) and profound (\u201chard days, bad ways, I have always been the same\u201d). Operating from a posture of intense acceptance and sincerity, Erenberg dwells in tension and uncertainty, rejecting worn-out dichotomies and materialistic solutions to the questions of death, love and livelihood. The questions that Erenberg asks on Songs from The Secret Beach <\/em>don\u2019t require answers. They require contemplation. It is fitting, then, that the album\u2019s final track, \u201cHow Many Times,\u201d is composed entirely of questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even as it explores weighty topics\u2014the no-win bargains of our economic present (\u201cGet a job, oops, too bad, that didn\u2019t work\u201d), grieving in the wake of death and heartbreak (\u201cit don\u2019t make sense when good friends die so young\u201d), and hidden mental health issues (\u201cI become manic though I appear serene\u201d)\u2014this album never feels bogged down in negativity or naval gazing. There is a great sense of wonder and appreciation for these mysteries and suggestions of hopeful ways forward through openness, mindfulness, and, most of all, \u201cLess talk, a lot more rock and roll.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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