Review Summary: Not all is silent in the desolate grasslands of Xinjiang, China.
There I was, at my local Newbury comics, aimlessly walking around the store with nothing better to do on my dull Saturday night. I walk by the new releases, quickly glance over all the covers, and I see simplistic, symmetrical lettering: Mamer /Eagle. I had money to waste, so I took a shot in the dark and purchased the album simply because of its luscious, arid beauty displayed on the album cover. As the old saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover"; I guess this is one of life's finest exceptions.
I knew nothing of the artist. First listening, I assumed it was Native American due to the baritone humming and flutes, but I actually took listen to the lyrics and noticed it was sung in an Asian dialect. After the first three songs which echoed alienating tranquility throughout my truck, I ejected the disk, and listened to the radio.
I picked this album up again a couple months later, just out of curiosity to hear this rejected album once more. The first track, “Eagle”, was not the albums best way of representing itself. The repetitive, baritone pitch produced by the Chinese native’s voice struck me as subtly annoying, but I let it pass. The song all together felt like a tease to what was to come. I continued to listen.
Following “Eagle”, the album charged into my ears and shout out its surprising eloquence. In the second track, "Lligai", Mamer brought forth ragged beauty from his baritone vocals, which were backed behind an array of harmonizing acoustic instruments and flute. In "celebrations", Mamer shows off his instrumental creativity and pushes aside his unique vocal allurement. The song commenced in painting me a picture of the unnoticed, desolate china with its folk melodies. "Man" and "Blackbird" also shined Mamer’s elegant harmonization, which was joyfully apparent throughout the Eagle. The album did not once stop being consistent with its unique, beautiful musicianship.
Once the last track came to its end, I returned to reality. I was completely bewildered by the rush of this unexpected gem. I realized I would have never discovered this foreign musician if I didn't attempt to drive out to Newbury Comics for no good reason at all. A part of me feels like this album will only pertain to my liking because of its unlikely chance of stumbling upon my eyes. Regardless of its nostalgic effect upon my life, I don't see why anyone else would not grasp the same subtle greatness that I experienced from this album.