Mirah C'mon Miracle

Mirah C'mon Miracle
Like the first red buds on the tips of the nude spring trees, Mirah returns with her third solitary record; it’s a tiny burst that makes a big impact through small gestures. Her voice has always held that soothing quality that makes listening to Mirah play feel as familiar and easy as slipping into a pair of slippers and sipping on a cup of tea. And this time around, she’s polished the china impeccably. Opener "Nobody Has to Stay” sets things up slowly; it’s relaxed and pretty, with Mirah’s smooth voice towing a lazy string section. "The Light” matches delicate imagery delivered blatantly with a catchy stretched-out chorus that could rope most anyone into sing-along the first time around. Other tracks, most notably the harp-accompanied "We’re Both So Sorry,” follow Mirah’s common ground — her blatant relationship themes are softly genuine and nourished with a dose of frankness that skips sappy and goes straight for endearing. But since her You Think It’s Like This But Really It’s Like This debut, that habitual topic has dissipated and on C’mon Miracle, Mirah widens her contemplative borders. When she speaks politically, as on "Jerusalem,” it’s out of necessity and nature and with a strong voice. Her anti-oppressive sentiments come across as personal and important to her as the sighing whimsy reflected in her earnest love songs; just two simple peas in a pod.

Why is Phil [Elvrum, the Microphones] your favourite person to work with when you're recording? Phil is like the wild man of all times in the studio and I've always been somewhat of a naturalist myself. It's like foraging for sounds in a wild and comforting jungle with him and I like how this feels more than I imagine soundproof rooms and standard techniques would. I think it works well because we're friends, because we're comfortable with each other.

What was it like recording in Argentina? It was really hot hot hot. I was working with another of my favourite musical friends, Bryce Panic, and we always come up with good recordings together. It was great to be in Argentina but we left the house so rarely it was almost like I could have been anywhere, except for all the sounds floating up to the rooftop patio, and getting dulce de leche ice cream delivered from the back of a moped.

Would you prefer to be mostly artistically isolated or part of a big musical community? Not even just a big musical community but a big artistic community of every fun kind. Sometimes I feel like I can hardly even do anything completely all by myself. Even if I'm working on something alone, I like knowing that just next door someone is writing a rock opera and down the street my friend is hanging an art show and then we all go run around in the marshes and shoot a music video. (K)