Translucent green + black swirl vinyl LP.
Includes exclusive bonus 12″, pressed on translucent red + yellow vinyl.
Numbered.Nach ein paar harten Jahren mit Tourneen, Beziehungen, die begannen und endeten, und einer Blockade des Autors, beschloss Cronin, eine Änderung vorzunehmen. Er packte zusammen und zog sich nach Idyllwild zurück, einer kleinen Stadt in den Bergen Südkaliforniens, wo er einen Monat allein in einer Hütte verbrachte. Die Einsamkeit erwies sich als fruchtbar, wobei der Großteil von „Seeker“ in diesem Zeitraum geschrieben und aufgenommen wurde. „Es war so ruhig und friedlich. Ich bekam seltsame Blicke, wenn ich im Laden einkaufen ging. Ich habe Insektenstiche bekommen, die monatelang nicht verheilt sind“, sagt Cronin. „Ich bin ein paar Mal um einen kleinen See herumgelaufen. Ich habe geschrieben und geschrieben. Es hat funktioniert.“ Nach einer Reihe von Bränden, die von einem Brandstifter ausgelöst wurden, musste Cronin evakuiert werden. So kehrte er einige Tage früher nach LA zurück und begann mit der Aufnahme in den Palmetto Studios. Dort halfen der Ingenieur Jason Quever und eine Crew enger Freunde, das Album zusammenzubringen. Die Platte wurde von Ty Segalls Freedom Band unterstützt. Die Natur noch frisch vor Augen und im Kopf, hatte Mikal Cronin die Idee, organische Klänge zu verwenden. „Jason und ich haben beim Platzieren von Mikrofonen viel über das White Album der Beatles gesprochen“, sagt Cronin. „Ich habe einen verkohlten Kiefernzapfen aus dem Wald ins Studio gebracht, nur für den Fall, dass es hilft. Feuer – vor allem dieser Zyklus der Säuberung und Neubepflanzung der Landschaft – ist ein zentrales Thema des Albums. Tod und Wiedergeburt.

Mikal Cronin releases Seeker, his fourth and finest full-length to date. Recorded live with a crew of close friends and engineer Jason Quever at Palmetto Studios in Los Angeles, it finds Cronin pushing his often devastating power pop into darker territory—from the isolation of “Show Me” to the desperation of “Fire” to the unadorned heartache of “Sold.”

It comes with a backstory that feels like fate. Cronin writes:

I was stuck. I’d had a rough few years. Relationships end, begin, and end again. I had to stay active, tour with other bands, make music through various other avenues—writer’s block is real and it can crush you, scratching at an itch you can’t quite get. I needed to clean up, to stop leaning on external crutches to get through the anxiety. I needed to grow the fuck up.

I needed a change.

I went to the woods, to Idyllwild, a small town in the mountains of southern California. I spent a month in a cabin there, alone with my cat, Ernie. It was so quiet and peaceful. I got weird looks at the store. I got bug bites that didn’t heal for months. I walked around a small lake a few times. I wrote. I took literally something that’s usually a hypothetical, something every artist thinks about doing. It worked: A large majority of Seeker was written and demoed there.

But then I had to go, immediately. An arsonist had sparked a series of fires and the woods exploded. I saw the flames coming up the hill as I packed up all my instruments and recording equipment. Ernie hid under the bed and was the last to go. I got him in the car just as the police came up the street to help with evacuations. I ended up home in LA a few days early; a small blessing because I was losing my mind a bit.

Once I was back, I was ready to make something. I needed help. I found Jason [Quever] and his studio. I collected as many friends as I could and brought them in to record live with me. I needed the energy of a group of people in a room playing together—a simple concept but one that I had never tried with my own songs. Most of the record is backed by Ty Segall’s Freedom Band. I play bass in this band. We had been touring and playing together for a long run over a few years, so it seemed natural to stick together.

I aimed for nature. I wanted organic sounds. I wanted to bring you into the room. Jason and I talked about The Beatles’ White Album a lot when placing mics. I brought a charred pine cone from the woods to the studio, just in case it would help. Fire—specifically its cycle of purging and reseeding the landscape—is a central theme to the record. Death and rebirth.