As In the Aeroplane Over the Sea made its rounds in 1998, it began snowballing into an unstoppable indie force. Somehow, an album based on Anne Frank that made lyrical use of “semen” and “ovaries,” and featured a baffling album cover with a girl’s face replaced by a drum became really cool. While more and more brains were splattered against the wall upon hearing the Neutral Milk Hotel record, the already-converted legions of NMH fans learned that frontman Jeff Mangum had all but disappeared in an eerie bout of seclusion from the public. The subsequent years led to speculation of when Jeff would make his triumphant return (that question still lingers today), and when there would be a follow-up to the now-legendary record. That album contained such an odd and compelling sound, how could anybody but Mangum add to it?

Fast forward to 1999 as a young man releases his first notable album under the name The Microphones, an album which would launch a remarkably understated career.

Phil Elverum may be one of the most interesting figures in indie music. His music is revered by critics, he’s built up a nice foundation in the indie consciousness, yet if he walked away from it all tomorrow, I don’t get the sense it’d turn the world upside-down. Why should it be a big deal? Because Elverum is one of the twenty best contemporary indie artists, and nearly every one of the other nineteen would cause a huge stir if they quit music. For a music community which shakes its collective fist at the sky for allowing Mangum to become a recluse on a daily basis, the lack of praise for a guy who has consistently cranked out quality albums for nearly 20 years doesn’t exactly jive.

The names are different, the vocals are different, the themes are different, but the argument still works: Phil Elvrum picked up where Jeff Mangum left off. Of course, people do like The Microphones and Mount Eerie (a lot), but nevertheless, comparing ‘the god’ to ‘the mortal’ is almost always met with “hey buddy, slow down there!” Why should it be like that though? I’ll concede that there can only be one Aeroplane, but The Glow pt. 2 currently stands as a staple album of the Aughts. (which puts Mangum and Elverum at one widely beloved record apiece). What’s more, it is Phil Elvrum’s crown jewel, a culmination of his artistic talent. Most importantly perhaps, The Glow pt. 2 takes heed of Magnum’s genius, and builds upon it.

The two albums alike deploy the acoustic guitar as the primary instrument, as their strums determine the song’s mood and melody. They wrap themselves in an earthiness that feels very much like a warped presentation of folk music. One of the charms of defining aspect Aeroplane is the fuzzy reverb, which sounds so warm, yet also distilling at the same time. Listen to “The Moon” from The Glow and take note of how the track burrows itself in massive amounts of reverb. Remember how you thought your speakers were busted the first time you heard “Holland, 1945?” “The Moon” intro achieves a similar effect.

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea and The Glow pt.2 together have melodious, noteworthy landmarks that make them singular entities. Aeroplane’s charm lies in its brass section, which has a way of continually blowing people away when they hear how well the horns mesh with the acoustic backdrop. For The Glow it's actually a trivium of instruments: percussion, strings, and piano. Elverum tries to incorporate innovative musical stylings into each album - “I am always trying new things, with every song. For example, every time I record drums I try to do it differently, looking for a deeper, crazier sound.” Both albums sound full and vibrant, bursting with moments of melodic genius. And of course, what were these two albums without their recurring themes? Again and again, Mangum conjures up the spirit of Anne Frank to drive his record, while Elverum embraces nature of the forested Northwest for amazing imagery. Elverum’s album themes are an extension of his own personality: “I am interested in landscapes and wilderness and the big picture. These are the things that I feel like writing about.” The personality of both frontmen, with their steadfast songwriting, descriptive poetic lyrics, and their unique singing-style are powerful enough to captivate the audience. And their documented aloofness permeates their public persona. The interview that this piece is based off of was quite the look into the tucked-away nature of Phil; the off-beat style, the hints of discomfort, and reserved, peculiar answers dominated the conversation. When asked if there was anything he deeply connected with aside from his music and art, Phil responded, “I love aliens. I find their culture and languages fascinating.” Phil obliges the PR he has to do to promote an album, but he doesn’t give away massive quantities of information. I imagine a conversation with Jeff Mangum would be eerily similar.

Now, nobody is going to confuse The Glow with Aeroplane. While the former is dark and atmospheric, the latter is strange brew of tight, catchy songs (God bless Mangum for making tracks with Holocaust themes fun to sing along with). But for those who reveled in the psyche-folk musings of Neutral Milk Hotel, The Microphones have helped keep that aesthetic alive for over a decade. For fans of distorted, passionate versions of folk music that seemingly died as NMH died, Phil Elverum gives us great album after great album, almost as if he’s taken for granted. While many pine for the glorious comeback of Mangum that may never actually happen, there’s been a huge oversight by not hoisting Phil into the elite pantheon of musicians for his work in The Microphones and Mount Eerie. Neutral Milk Hotel blazed a path that seemingly flamed out instantaneously, but a closer look reveals that Phil Elverum has quietly been stoking the fire for an under-appreciated decade.