By SoDak
In August, I spent a week hiking in Glacier National Park—fortunately
before all the fires started. For road trips, I usually bring along a stack of
CDs that I have not heard, in order to have time to really listen to a record. On
the third day, we took the Going-to-the-Sun Road from the westside of the park
to the Many Glacier area. For the drive, I selected the newest record by the
Black Lips, Satan’s Graffiti…or Is It God’s
Art. My wife and I drove along Lake McDonald, then followed the river,
before starting the climb to Logan’s Pass. Periodically, we stopped to walk
through fields of wildflowers, to sit by waterfalls, and to watch mountain
goats climb up cliffs. We were excited to see two grizzly bears, swimming across
a river. Once we arrived at the trailhead, we hiked in fog and rain to
Ptarmigan Tunnel and then to Iceberg Lake. We counted the piles of fresh bear
scat that we passed on the trail. Wildflowers abounded in the high meadows. This
astonishing day was just one of many in these mountains. Wait, it seems that I
forgot to mention anything about the Black Lips record. Well, this is because Satan’s Graffiti…or Is It God’s Art is
forgettable. To be fair, someone might contend that the experience and beauty
of the national park served as a distraction and did not allow me to appreciate
the record. For me, music has the potential to diminish or enhance an
experience, just as the place can influence how I feel about music. Throughout
the week, we listened to music that complemented our experiences and that is
woven into memories of these days. This is not the case with the new record by
the Black Lips. It seems uninspired. It sounds like the band just showed up
tired and fucked around while making the record. This is unfortunate, as I have
very much enjoyed several of their previous records. Fortunately, for us, we
had many other great records that satisfied us on this trip.
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