Last night, I attended the sold out Mount Eerie (Phil Elverum) show at the Rickshaw theatre in Vancouver— and it was my first time listening to his music. As I shared this somewhat vulnerable piece of information with the people around me, I garnered varied reactions that only amped up my anticipation for the opening night of the Night Palace tour. Some were in disbelief that I’d wound up at Phil’s show without any sense of what I was in for— especially considering that the average Mount Eerie fan adores him with such a heartfelt tenderness, some referencing his musical world as a central pillar to their own creative inspiration. But mostly, my fellow attendees were brimming with excitement if not a tinge of envy that my first exposure to Phil’s mind and sounds would be live in real time: in a room with him, his band, and a whole bunch of people that sincerely admire him.

As the Rickshaw theatre filled, fans lined up eagerly for merch. Phil was seated at the table, talking to each person buying a t-shirt, vinyl, or coffee beans, and returning immediately after coming off stage. Ragana opened the show with a set of emotionally charged songs, later supporting Phil with drums and bass for his performance.

As the first song commenced, it started to become clear as to why his fans hold him in the glowing light that they do. There is an eccentricism present in his demeanor and performance that is unparalleled, and at times enthralling. Phil’s hand floated alongside his vocal melodies, almost as if to aid the stories in coming out of his heart, only to crash down and release a distorted, whirring chord on his guitar. The set was primarily composed of tracks from his latest record, Night Palace, which explores themes of fatherhood, nature, war and violence, love and healing.

One of the most moving moments of his performance was the delivery of his spoken word piece, Demolition, commenting on all things from the colonial wounds of his hometown to the night breeze outside of his tent on his meditation retreat. His poetry stays grounded while he contemplates the troubles of his, and all of our existence. While every line he delivered affirmed his worthiness of the unfeigned praise I would later come to know, he performed with such humility.

After the show I asked my surrounding peers to describe their reaction to the set, or to attempt to convey what Mount Eerie’s music means to them:

“There are such strong mental images, it’s like I’m watching his world through his eyes as he’s describing it.”

“I was transported. It’s paralyzing, you just sit there and observe.”

“That’s the one. He is the one. That’s all I have to say.”

Phil’s performance served as a reminder of the power in such a singular artistry, cultivating a remarkably intentional and spirited group of listeners, devouring every word and sound and leaving discernibly rifted.

Words by Atlin Lester-Serafini
photos by Ethan Rebalkin

Order tickets for Mount Eerie HERE