Every three years (since 2019 and give or take a few weeks) we get a new Am Fost La Munte Și Mi-a Plăcut album and you know what? I love that. Never heard of Am Fost La Munte Și Mi-a Plăcut? No problem, you have a bunch of links above and even more of my ramblings to check, but on their previous record, right here. If you read in the meanwhile my review of La Vale, my excitement for this record will make a lot more sense, if not, that’s fine, you don’t have to understand, you just have to believe.
I Went To The Mountain, aside from being the closest we’ll get to an eponymous record from these guys, is definitely a step in a direction. That may sound obtuse, however, I definitely had all my expectations turned on their head upon listening to the album. While La Deal and La Vale saw Am Fost La Munte Și Mi-a Plăcut grow into a refined version of itself, exploring sweet and engaging nuances in the world of post-rock with various influences, I Went To The Mountain doesn’t exactly ditch this foundation, but it doesn’t exactly refine it any further entirely either. It took the if-at-first-you-don’t-succeed-you-need-a-bigger-hammer approach, by simply dunking a finished record into heavy riffs and grooves, which are more reminiscent of post-metal and stoner doom metal and then shaking the excess off vigorously.
Obviously, in terms of songwriting, things stay true to themselves and feel more than solid – that’s a given. It’s just that, I guess, I expected something more… well, I actually have no idea, more… what? See, this right here is a classic case of I’m fucking spoiled, that’s what. I wanted the moon off the sky and I got it and now it’s not enough. For real though, I think it’s more that I had a certain set of expectations, some of which were met, and while others weren’t. It’s kind of funny in a way, because I always felt like the band could benefit from being heavier – and they did exactly that!
Now I’m over here trying to argue it feels more like a lateral step than one ahead, like the pretentious snob that I am. It’s definitely a forward motion, just not performed as I saw it in my pretentious dreams – how dare they, am I right? What’s more, if the record turned out to be an extension and refinement of the fundamentally post-rock sound established previously, I’d have found a way to complain about it not being heavier. It’s like with everything in life, every time you try something new, you get fucked in a different way.
The added weight of the riffs and grooves, the moods showcasing more introspective and contemplative qualities, the imagery bordering on something more monochromatic, but very well-defined and shaded all show a different, more raw side of the process of musical maturation. Like before, there’s a winding, but consistent narrative thread, which leads us through an interesting journey, rife with all sorts of worthwhile sights. This time though, interestingly enough, it’s uncannily reminiscent of a mountain trail which you see unfolding on fast forward before your eyes from the fields all the way to the summit. I’d say quite fitting and appropriate though, given the title of the record. Maybe it’s something that has been drilled into me subconsciously by the band name and now more by this album title, but I’m definitely feeling it.
The picture – it’s not a romantic trail, that’s essentially a brisk Sunday walk, with nothing else tacked on for flavor. It’s the raw, bare, and unabridged path which will tear you down. It’s more real than you would have ever hoped for. As you ascend, through glimpses of the eternal beauty of mountain foliage and vegetation, your feet are getting sore and you’re aware the hike is still many hours away from over. As you drudge through the exhaustive climb, fueled by fresh spring water, whatever you thought was a good idea to pack, and hardly the appropriate equipment or condition for this ascent, you eventually make it to the top. You essentially collapse on a nearby patch of tattered grass and stare into the distance. The view, good God, the view – it’s so beautiful, it’s breathtaking (like the climb literally wasn’t already), it’s mesmerizing in a way that evades words. The meditative trance of absorbing that view, the pain of getting there (nevermind the pain of the return trip), the stark silence, the greatness of it all – it’s all somehow neatly encapsulated in the songs of this record.
I don’t know what else to tell you, to be perfectly honest. Go listen to the record, go to the mountain as often as you can, and remember, in the words of the illustrious John Muir, ‘The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.‘
