For years they hid from us. Like the hermetic enigma their name conjures, Mountain Man headed for the hills after releasing their hypnotic 2010 debut, Made the Harbor<\/em><\/a>. The siren-like harmonies of Molly Erin Sarle,\u00a0Alexandra Sauser-Monnig and Amilia Meath faded into the mist; Meath resurfaced four years later as one half of<\/span>\u00a0Sylvan Esso<\/a>, bringing folksy sensibilities to Nick Sanborn’s infectious electronic production, and the duo’s runaway success made Mountain Man seem like more of a precursor than a project to which Meath would someday return.<\/span><\/p>\n

And yet, that piercing acoustic music that hits the soul, cutting through the air with no other sound to travel by but the human voice and a casually strummed guitar – the kind of music that hits a mark that the 808s just will never dig into – began to garner a sort of cult following. Mountain Man’s magic was in its stunning simplicity, their songs the kind that easily\u00a0soundtrack languid afternoons, campfire gatherings, wine makings, or family-style dinners with friends. These same<\/span>\u00a0words, moments, and experiences pepper\u00a0<\/span>the much-too-long-awaited stories of the group’s second album, Magic Ship<\/em>, released on the last day of September this year.<\/span><\/p>\n