Review Summary: The spirit blows where it will
I’ve become a fairly dedicated fan of Andrea Von Kampen’s music over the past few years. My interest began with the release of her 2021 sophomore LP,
That Spell, which bewitched me despite being, in some ways, a rather dime-a-dozen indie folk release. Von Kampen’s style on that album (and elsewhere, now that you mention it) is disarmingly simple - her angelic voice either singing generally simple lyrics or wordlessly vocalizing over gentle backdrops. Frankly, when I ponder the appeal, it’s rather hard to pin down what exactly makes Von Kampen’s music stand out amidst the sea of artists swimming in similar waters, but perhaps the biggest factor is its unadulterated “return to the basics” approach - captivating, pure, and elemental in its power.
This feeling was doubled from the experience of seeing Von Kampen live. She played a short set, opening for my old favorite The Tallest Man On Earth, but managed to decisively win over the crowd, most of whom I expect were previously unfamiliar with her music. By the end of her routine, there was a feeling of hushed reverie during her playing, and of raucous applause between songs. In short, that wondrous impression imparted by her studio recordings also carried over into a live setting. And her genuinely funny banter between tunes didn’t hurt either.
All this leads us to
Sister Moon, Von Kampen’s third full-length. It’s not expressly a concept album, but certainly leans that way, focused on a set of intertwined concerns: climate change, environmental degradation more generally, the naturalistic mysticism of Francis of Assissi, and the importance of trees. Even more specific, Von Kampen was greatly influenced here by Richard Powers’ novel “The Overstory”, which, while I’ve never read it, apparently involves trees and their relationship with humanity and the world at large. Yes, if you’re looking for tree-related musical content, you’ve come to the right place!
I’ll stop right there to observe that I’m basically in the perfect demographic for this kind of record, given I’m a card-carrying member (literally) of the Arbor Day Foundation (yes, that’s a thing) and (like Von Kampen) I grew up with a much-loved cottonwood tree in the backyard. But, nonetheless, I found the wider pretensions of this album to be a worrying prospect. In particular, I wasn’t sure that the ample strengths of Von Kampen’s prior output would be well-suited to carry this kind of album - her lyricism is generally less poetic than charmingly straightforward (although the “
please don’t hesitate, for time only takes” line from “Wedding Song” has always hit me very hard). Basically, her style seems much better suited to vague and amorphous paeons to love and nature than carrying some kind of grand narrative.
Indeed, during initial listens to
Sister Moon, I remained firmly unconvinced. There are a few clunky moments which make my initial concerns feel valid - the opening lines to “Mimas” are pulled directly from the text of “The Overstory” and read as unusually wordy, while “Such Love Does” pulls from a Franciscan prayer and similarly seems stretched. Then, there’s the occasional lyric which feels at once over-simple and over-wrought, like “
why can’t we see the trees for the woods just once, not worrying how to use it all” from “Juniper” or “
Robin, your mom named you for her favorite bird” from “Robin”. But, even upon first glance, this record displays a whole ton of beauty to digest as well, and I eventually learned to stop worrying and love the trees - that is, to appreciate this album in all its glory.
As usual for Von Kampen’s music,
Sister Moon is thoroughly unassuming, despite its more sweeping vision. The ten songs here barely pass the thirty-one minute mark, but are gorgeous throughout - perfectly balancing polish and rusticity. Von Kampen’s oft-transcendent vocals are always in the lead, but the musical backdrops deserve note as well. Perhaps surprisingly, there’s only one track here (the pristine closer) which is truly a “voice plus guitar” solo venture - every other tune sees delicate but essential contributions from other instrumentalists. Fittingly, given the album’s wholesome feel, with a good chunk of those credited musicians bearing the last name “Von Kampen”- it’s a family affair.
In the final analysis, I don’t think
Sister Moon quite measures up to its worthy predecessor as the defining statement of Andrea Von Kampen’s young career - after all, I described
That Spell back in 2021 as a “sweet summer breeze of an album”, and I stand by that, as it’s held up very well in the intervening years. This newest effort is a little bit of a different beast, though, still providing the kind of blissfully beautiful mood music you might expect, but with a darker undertone which is often highly successful. The forthright emotion of “Cottonwoods” or the textured combo of rich nostalgia and looming fear for the future which pervades “August” stand out in that regard. The closer, “A Fox, A Bird” deserves an acknowledgement as well - standing as a fervent dedication to a passed-on friend, it’s a thoughtful piece about living life the right way, and casts a hopeful note to leave the listener with - “
I think the world began in love”. A little cheesy? Sure. But I’m ok with cheese when it comes bundled with this much heartfelt sentiment, delivered gorgeously. Folk fans,
Sister Moon is worth a try.
