With such a seemingly testosterone-fueled blog name like Bearded Gentlemen Music, it seems peculiar that we would choose to start the year off review-wise with such a low-key, very introverted album like The Man Who Died In His Boat. Its not as though 2013 in its few short weeks hasn’t seen its share of more bludgeoning releases. Yet personally, in spite of its subtle, barely-even-there approach, this is the album that has been able to captivate me the most over the past few weeks as the long nights of a new year dominate my waking life.

Grouper’s music exists in a fever dream, though the induced fever may not always be such a bad thing. Grouper is the stage name for Liz Harris, a woman who truly shares the ethos that less is more. Her minimal, ambience-based approach to otherwise straightforward folky songwriting has set her apart from the rest of the dream pop crowd that she often seems to have been lumped in with over the years. Last year, acts like Laurel Halo and Holly Herndon sought to demonstrate isolation as a result of digital disconnect in a processed day and age. Isolation is also the theme of this album, yet Harris’ take on the subject feels a lot more personal and based on a more human level. As with all of her work, the hissing of the tape delay acts like an instrument in and of itself, and furthers the very organic solitude of Grouper’s quiet, hazy soundscapes. This analog approach solidifies the notion that what you are hearing is really just Harris and her guitar or Wurlitzer, and this adds power to her lyrics of loss and loneliness in songs like the title track and “Towers”. Don’t expect to parse much of what is being said; Harris loves her reverb and applies it thickly to everything, especially her voice. Yet god damn, does this woman ever know how to emote. As cliche a term as it has become, Grouper’s music is held captive by feeling, and this drives the album more than convention or structure.

Its difficult to discern much of anything the first few times through the album. About a third of the songs are pure ambience, and the remaining tracks definitely blur the line between songcraft and drony experimentation. Yet after a while, you begin to pick up on the worlds of the individual songs and how they contribute to everything as a whole. Underneath all of the reverb, Harris actually has quite the knack for songwriting, as seen on standout tracks like “Towers” and “Cloud in Places”. In fact, despite all of its purposeful distancing, The Man Who Died is arguably her most accessible record to date. This is accentuated on the last track of the album, “Living Room”, a two minute long verse-chorus-verse-chorus song with clearly sung lyrics and melody that is easily the most ‘conventional’ song that Grouper has released to date. Its appearance after the album’s most obscure track seems to be a small scale representation of Grouper’s career at this point. After almost a decade of releasing some of the most difficult, beautiful music out there, The Man Who Died is a glimpse at a possible new future for Harris. As with her previous record, 2008’s Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill, The Man Who Died sees Grouper inching ever closer towards the light with increasingly positive results.

Apparently The Man Who Died is a collection of b-sides for Up A Hill, but this record in no way ever gives off the impression of being in any way subpar or leftover. I honestly didn’t even know it was a collection of b-sides until a few days ago, and I’ve been listening to this record for weeks. I’d even go so far as to say that this record is better than its predecessor, at least in terms of its therapeutic quality. For it is the meditative elements of this album that truly make you return again and again to the haunting beauty of Grouper’s music. For a woman that sings about being “busy pretending to relate” on “Living Room”, the empathy she is able to conjure in these tracks is astounding. Slipping into the darkness of this album is comforting, like dipping into a dimly lit bath, or a warm bed on a winter’s night. Harris may not be able to cure you of your loneliness, but she will join you in it.

Ridiculous Made-Up Musical Genre Of The Day: ambient no-folk