between two worlds

barter faire hacky sack circle vs. reality

I’m still tired from the last tour. I’ve been home for many days now, but still I’m dragging my feet, snoozing through the days, falling on the floor and staring at the ceiling. I’d forgotten how exhausting it is to tour, especially in the spread out American west, especially with a full band with big amps and drums and a gong, especially with the world’s heaviest merch, especially with a kid along, especially the ridiculous way I do it with no hired driver or manager or merch person or van loader or anything. I’m from the cult of DIY with all these inherited stubborn ideals that only evolve creakily and awkward into the changing times. Maybe the shows I’m playing are a little too big for me to take all of those roles on. Maybe I’m too old. Maybe I don’t have to be eye-contact nude-soul available to every shaking person that comes up to the merch table. My tour life exists in a clash between an imagined world I wish I was living in vs. the world the way it actually is.

In my imagined world, I would be capable of remaining super hands-on about every aspect of this music/art/work life of mine. I’d be standing at the door of the show taking money or punching tickets and saying “hi, thank you for coming!”, I’d be serving a snack and a coffee to everyone, something I’d baked in advance. The merch table would be a place for a chill exchange of money for souvenirs, and a friendly “I like this music/oh thank you!”, shared between social equals. Nobody would want a signature because why would you want your neighbor’s signature? Same with a posed photo. In my imagined world the concept of a “meet and greet” autograph line wouldn’t exist. Music shows would be community events that everyone is making happen together, village gatherings, one foot out of the quicksand of capitalism. No celebs, no pedestals. Think Ancient Harvest Dance rather than ticketmaster beatdown at the 21+ bar.

I know I live in this world though, the one where you aren’t actually my neighbor and you subscribe to my internet newsletter. If you like my music, maybe it also comes with a feeling of excitement at meeting me in person, and maybe you have the impulse to capture some kind of evidence of that meeting, a photo with me or my name written down on a thing. I understand. I personally don’t have that impulse, I don’t think, when I imagine meeting even my most beloved artist role models¹, but I know many people do. I accept it, whatever.

There were many times on this last little tour where I said out loud to myself “I can’t do it like this anymore”. I should maybe listen. There’s an important lesson for me in this collision of my dreaming ideals with the actual feeling of being socially and physically drained after living this attempt at radical availability. There’s probably some middle way that honors both me and you.

I guess this is what art is though, right? The artist prepares some form of themselves, some deep exposed version of their raw core, and holds it out for strangers to experience, gawk at, consume. Some artists go too hard and use it all up. They forget that they’re supposed to be giving a synthesized version of their nude soul, not the actual real one. They flame out. It’s tempting to want to flame, to be more real than anything, to burn it all on the big altar… but I want to get old and keep doing this. I might get sunglasses.

---

But mostly, THANK YOU! Thanks to my beloved bandmates Noel, Maria and Jenn for coming along on this punishing and thrilling stretch. I’m so happy we get to do it again in April! (tickets are still available for most of those shows, go get them)

And thanks to everyone who came to the shows! I found myself saying “I love you” to the crowd through the mic, and meaning it. I’m not one of those people that sprays that phrase everywhere, I believe in its potency. My feeling of love was a big gratitude for everyone choosing to leave their homes, come to a crowded dark room with strangers and devote huge precious attention to this music we’re bringing around. I know we had to charge money for the shows, but something in the exchange actually did feel a little connected to my imagined village harvest dance world idea, a pre/post apocalyptic vision that we can start living in now! Thank you!

---

back to the merch table

I have 2 new things to sell you. Note though that if you order them both, one won’t come for a month+ so we’ll probably hold the whole order until it’s all ready.

Night Palace liner notes (zine version)

here’s the blurb:

The Mount Eerie album "Night Palace" has as its cover a ridiculous poster, too big to deal with, too giant to put up on any wall unless you live in an empty barn, too huge to even hold. This is all fine, it's supposed to be that way. It's supposed to be a beautifully giant print of Indigo Free's magnificent cover painting. But on the back of the poster/cover is a whole bunch of writing about the songs, writing that maybe some people would want to read.

Here's a more holdable "zine version", 12"h x 6"w, printed in full color on nice sturdy 100# paper with heavy 130# cover stock. See how my hand holds it up with just a couple fingers? This allows you to have a free hand to alternate between sipping coffee and flipping the record over.

It's basically extended liner notes, with visual references. Old postcards mostly, but some illuminating paintings and local photos. This bonus information isn't necessary to enjoy the music on Night Palace. I just make it available for anyone who's interested in going deeper in.

release date March 4th, 2025
print run: 1000

GET IT HERE.

---

and the second thing is a pre-order:

Night Palace (coffee version)

One time in 2006 I was on tour alone in Toronto and I happened to have a day off and they happened to be holding a film festival. That night was a showing of David Lynch's new movie, Inland Empire. How lucky! So I went. It was in an old movie theater with big red velvet curtains and old world sconces along the dim walls, dark corridors with people leaning in the shadows. Totally perfect. And in the lobby they were selling cups of hot black coffee that David Lynch had presumably roasted himself. WOW! Imagine sitting there in the theater watching an immersive and weird movie about immersing into the great mystery via an old theater, volume cranked, sipping hot coffee that was also part of the whole-sensory experience! The steam in my face held the smell of the artist's world. It was total.

I've come close to selling coffee before. I've always thought it would be nice to be a purveyor of something more tangibly useful than ephemeral music and vague ideas, something like frying pans or tarps. Food. I've come close but it's never quite felt right.

Finally it feels right. The coffee that I drink at home is roasted by Camber in Bellingham, Wash., and this is the coffee that soaks every song on Night Palace. They reached out to me to offer to do a temporary finite collaboration, and I said hell yeah. We went back and forth about the beans, the roast, and ended up with this: single origin heirloom Guji from Ethiopia. It's really good. Not as fruity as the Ethiopias that I think of, more like a fruit that was left under hot mountaintop grass for a couple of nourishing afternoons, ground loam and fresh wind imbued. Free nuts. Squinting in sweet wind.

They come in 10 oz. bags, whole bean.

This is a month-long pre-order, then it will be gone. Quantity is not limited, just the time window that you can order it. On April 4th, 2025 we'll take down this page and roast it all fresh and ship it out to you.

Enjoy!

---

That’s all for this one. I’ve got thoughts still, but I’ll leave it at that for now. Thanks so much for reading everyone!
Phil

1. Nanao Sakaki, Edvard Munch, Björk, Nikolaj Astrup, Gary Snyder, Dracula, Dōgen, Leonardo Da Vinci, Snorri Sturlasson, Murasaki Shikibu, Ghandl, Joni, King Kong, etc.