Running Up That Hill: 5 Songs About Mountains

This week's songs are from Levon Helm, Peter Matthew Bauer, Jamie Branch ft. Jason Ajemian, Fust, and Iron & Wine ft. Andrew Bird

Songwriters draw from a lot of the same symbols in order to tell a story or communicate an idea. Mountains are amongst the most common. They can be the setting for an entire way of life, establish the emotional or physical distance between two people, or serve as a metaphor for something to be conquered by personal progress. They are challenges to be reckoned with, and can be framed as idyllic or treacherous. They can be used for ominous warnings, pure—if unattainable—joy, or to set a scale for one’s feelings for another person. Mountains can be a setting for nearly anything. Mountains can celebrate some late period gems from rock legends, shine some light on a few artists worth your time, and a beautiful live performance. In one way or another, all of them make me want to get outside.

Here are 5 songs about mountains.

“My interpretation of Levon’s musical being is that it comes out of the woods, the dirt, the mountains. It doesn’t come out of bricks and mortar, or a Hollywood script. There’s nothing manufactured about it. And from the producing side of this thing, you have to take what a person is naturally and really let that live.” - Larry Campbell

Levon Helm - “The Mountain”

Levon Helm grew up on the flatter side of Arkansas. As The Band took hold of its own musical destiny, out from serving as a backing band, they famously settled in Woodstock, New York among the Catskills. Even after The Band fell apart, Helm kept Woodstock his home base the rest of his life. One of his neighbors in Woodstock was Steve Earle, who wrote “The Mountain”. Earle’s version appears on the 1999 album of the same name, which is a tribute to Bill Monroe, and he counts it among one of his best songs. Along with the Del McCoury Band, he plays it as a plaintive Bluegrass Waltz. I don’t mean to cheapen it, but it kind of reminds me of the song Lisa Simpson sings supporting Homer’s strike. Helm’s version keeps the weight of the narrative, but adds some uplift. It’s still an elegy for a difficult way of life, but it’s theirs and they wouldn’t change a thing. I’d give all credit to the fiddle for that, but Helm’s weathered voice, which he clawed back after completely losing it to throat cancer in the late 90s, sounds like the song needs to get out of him.

The story in this song is basically The Giving Tree. Helm is singing of the Mountain as the only thing the singer has known, as a home, as source of income. It’s stripped for everything it’s worth—lumber, coal, shelter, sense of security, lives—but like hell is Helm going to walk away from the memories and the ghosts he’s living with. Coal Miner is a role Helm played, as Loretta Lynn’s father in Coal Miner’s Daughter, and he easily steps back into that in “The Mountain.” But the mountain can also serve as a symbol of a life’s work, especially when sung by a man who put everything he had into his own.

“Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal
Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood
By all, but which the wise, and great, and good
Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel”

- Percy Bysshe Shelley, ‘Mont Blanc’

Peter Matthew Bauer - “Mountains on Mountains”

Stick around here long enough and we’ll probably get around to every single member of The Walkmen’s solo efforts. It might sound like overzealous praise, but hear me out: one could make the argument that The Walkmen are like the Indie Rock Beatles if only because each member has a unique sensibility that is present in their work as a band, and also expressed, explored, and expanded upon in their other work. Put in less grandiose way: they are just as interesting apart as they are together, kind of like The Beatles.

Peter Matthew Bauer, a multi-instrumentalist with the Walkmen, has put out three solo albums, 2022’s Flowers being the most recent. There’s no narrative or symbolism established in “Mountains on Mountains,” its appeal is the pulse of the song, there for the listener to pick up on. It’s a tone poem. I’m not sure of the exact drum, so I’ll just call them bongos give the track a fluidity that ripples below the acoustic guitar floating on the surface. The thumping guitar effect that comes in about halfway through is a cool texture. All together, the song creates an expansive feeling, like being on a summit and looking out in all directions. It’s sunset—because he tells you that—but whether this some post apocalyptic moment, the middle of a journey, or reaching the peak is left up for you to decide.

Out here by myself as the sun meets its death
Mountains and mountains are all we have left

Oh, I can hear you, but I can’t say.

“It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves” - Sir Edmund Hillary

Jamie Branch ft. Jason Ajemian - “The Mountain” (Meat Puppets Cover)

Originally released by Meat Puppets as “Comin’ Down,” this version is from trumpet player Jamie Branch’s final album, released after her unfortunate death in 2022. It’s an interesting choice, and none of her other work with Fly or die sounds anything like it. As a band leader, Branch released four Fly or die albums. I highly recommend the first, which is some incredible, lively modern jazz. There’s some shimmering trumpet playing, and some chaotic hip-hop energy, plus cello. This selection has none of that. It’s just a whimsical vocal harmony delivered with charm and a child-like optimism about being on the other side of a challenge. Humbled, a little bit wiser, even if the wisdom is in knowing one’s limitations. They’ re heading home to rest, aware there’s only more obstacles and challenges ahead. Rest easy, and know you can always give up!

Pickin' slowly up the rocks, like
One thing always seems apparent
If the climb becomes too much
I can always turn around

“The south is where the past and present seem to always be in conflict and the tempo of everyday life has a kind of song and dance to it… I’m looking for characters that become more than what they say or do, places that slip between what they were, and are. ” - Aaron Dowdy

Fust - “Mountain Language”

Out of Durham North Carolina, Fust makes the type of country-rock/indie country/not-really-country-but-definitely-Southern music. Their latest, Big Ugly is a perfect next album to put on after MJ Lenderman’s Manning Fireworks. It’s a swings a little lighter, but that’s kind of the point. In addition to “Mountain Language,” the mountain is a setting for a few songs on Big Ugly, including album highlight “Gateleg.” It’s porch music, just in time for porch season. So grab a cold beverage and enjoy the hang.

I’m familiar with the notion of bilingual people dreaming in different languages, and how that relates to the information they’re processing, or a sign of a deeper immersion in another language or culture. Here, singer-songwriter Aaron Dowdy uses that to establish an affinity for his “mountain friends,” but register their differences and distance; they have a shared language, but he still dreams in his own. The singer is something of an opposite from that of Levon Helm’s in “The Mountain.” Despite how much he loves being up on the mountain with his buddies, he’s left and moved on. The mountain isn’t a place they want to stay, but they’re happy to return every now and again, maybe to hang out on the porch.

But if we can make it up the mountain again
We'll be back with country friends
And there'll be language on the mountain again

“It has pretty things and scary things, kind of like life in general, which is both surreal and poignant. You try to describe the beautiful and the strange, the scary and the comforting; try to wink and say 'It's all for fun'. We can acknowledge that life is heavy, and also have a good time.” - Sam Beam

Iron & Wine ft. Andrew Bird - Upward Over the Mountain (Live for Blogotheque)

“Upward Over the Mountain” is the tale of a prodigal son fleeing his religious upbringing. The mountain here is the obstruction and distance between the parent and child. There’s a suggestion of hope and repair, but the outlook is not promising. It’s a very understated song, but also quietly tragic. The way it’s sung, it sounds as if the last glimmers of hope are fading.

So may the sunrise bring hope
Where it once was forgotten
Sons could be birds, taken and broken up to the mountain

The mountains also make for a perfect setting for the pairing of Sam Beam and Andrew Bird for this Blogotheque performance filmed in Yosemite. Also, Iron & Wine’s “Call It Dreaming” is tagged on as a nice bonus song. Beam is able to get an incredible tone from his guitar and keeps good time too. Bird’s quiet mumble of the harmony is a particularly effective choice to catch just a touch in the audio. If you’re not familiar with Andrew Bird, he is appropriately named, adding a touch of his powerful whistle (yes, whistle) during a whistling duet (yes!), until it fades out into the sounds of actual birds. I think “ethereal” can be a silly word, but it’s fitting for things like being in the mountains with the warm sun on your face, or listening to this and the birds.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy the listening.

Full playlists of songs featured in 5 Songs:

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