Bright Stars and Acoustic Guitars

Living in the city means limited trysts with nature. Perhaps Chicago based Mean Sea Level feels just as confined by breaking out and offering something most bands dare not extend to their audiences: folk meets psychedelic - old-school surrounded by contemporary beat. There’s nothing traditional about their self-titled EP, the predecessor to the band’s full-length album due out in the fall. Mean Sea Level expresses band leader Brett Barton’s emotions, watching the sun set and the sky edging into darkness before illuminated by stars. Barton develops a fantastic concept, and the time line of the EP allows us to follow his thought process as he rendezvous with life.

Barton and percussionist Don Ogilvie blend two genres of music together to recreate this experience for their listeners. Barton’s guitar work is influenced by modern folk greats, but the ambient noises, multi-tracking, and small bell accents littered throughout Mean Sea Level is more comparable to the psych-folk of Nick Drake or Elliott Smith. Though both of these artists’ work contained their murky emotions and experiences, Barton’s seemingly prides itself to not follow suit. ‘Somehow, the Rivers Rising’ has a similar melancholic tone; Barton’s voice drowning in distortion and Ogilvie’s drums distant and washed out. They say the night is darkest before the dawn, and thus offers the darkest point of the EP immediately followed by its brightest and brilliant point, ‘Come Up Sun, Come.’ Even the EP’s construction parallels the night.

Though the EP does have this intricate imagery within its sound and lyrics, Mean Sea Level still reflect the city lifestyle - watching it slowly plunge to sleep and the drunken clubbers stumble to their dwellings for that evening. Chicago’s night may be a tad different than a typical quiet campground, however the time between dusk and dawn is the same everywhere. Every place needs to sleep, and Mean Sea Level is there to tell you about it during your waking hours.

Amy Dittmeier