Musk Ox asks for a contemplative listener. The pace is mostly slow, or rather, gradual—the sound is low-slung and accommodating, focused but unrushed, and the instruments are understated: a piano, an acoustic guitar, a voice saying “Ah” with a kind of extended, rising groan, as if the sound is trying to detach itself from the earth at a shallow diagonal angle. Sometimes we hear the wind sweeping across a landscape that, from the sound of the size of it, is probably similar to the one on the cover. Nature is evoked. There is a slightly formal, medieval feel. A note is struck and allowed to decay as it likes: this seems to sum up the album. Those who enjoy Musk Ox will probably find themselves wanting to return to it. “Beautiful—thoughtful—an album like a piece of land art sculpture. I hear new things in it every time I put it on.” Those who hate it will find themselves with plenty of ammunition. “Can’t he play more than one note? Can’t he sing any other syllables?”
- Multiple songs MySpace
We all know how critical it is to keep independent voices alive and strong on the Internet. Please consider a donation to support our work as independent cultural critics and historians. Your donation will help PopMatters stay viable through these changing and challenging times where costs have risen and advertising has dropped precipitously. We need your help to keep PopMatters strong and growing. Thank you.