Through The Bottom Of A Glass: Misty Mountain’s Forgotten Country Gem (1975)
Let’s get one thing straight—Misty Mountain isn’t exactly a household name. But their 1975 album Through The Bottom Of A Glass sneaks up on you like an old friend with a flask tucked in his back pocket. Released via Westwood Recordings in the UK, this folk-country stew feels like a warm hug from someone who might’ve had too much whiskey but still knows how to tell a good story.
Now, I’m not gonna lie, when I first popped this record on (okay, it was streaming—I’m no vinyl purist), my expectations were low. Folk, world, country? That screams “hippie road trip” or “dusty barn dance,” right? But Misty Mountain pulls off something special here. It’s raw without being sloppy, heartfelt without being sappy. And while all 14 tracks deserve a nod, two songs stuck with me like syrup on pancakes.
First up is "Your Cheating Heart." Oh man, this cover of Hank Williams’ classic hits different coming from Misty Mountain. There’s something about the way they lean into that melancholy steel guitar—it’s like listening to heartbreak through a smoky haze. You can almost picture some poor sap sitting alone at a bar, nursing his third pint while muttering, “Yeah, buddy, she done me wrong.” What makes this version stand out is its restraint. They don’t try to out-Hank Hank; instead, they let the song breathe, giving it space to break your heart all over again.
Then there’s "Snowbird," which sounds like what would happen if Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash collaborated on a lullaby for lonely mountain folk. The harmonies are tight enough to make your ears perk up, but loose enough to feel real—as if they’re singing just for you. Every time that chorus rolls around, I find myself humming along, even though I swear I don’t know half the words. Something about those fluttering melodies gives me goosebumps every dang time.
The rest of the album keeps things moving nicely. Tracks like "Streets Of Baltimore" and "Silver Wings" showcase Misty Mountain’s knack for storytelling, painting vivid pictures of love lost, highways traveled, and dreams deferred. Even the title track, "Through The Bottom Of A Glass," has a boozy charm that’ll have you reaching for a drink—or at least imagining you’re sipping bourbon by a campfire under starry skies.
But here’s the kicker: despite its undeniable charm, Through The Bottom Of A Glass never blew up. Maybe it got lost in the shuffle of the mid-’70s music scene. Or maybe Misty Mountain just didn’t care about fame—they seemed content crafting tunes that felt personal, almost private. Either way, this album deserves more love than it ever got.
So, next time you’re looking for something to soundtrack your existential crisis—or just wanna hear some solid country vibes—give this forgotten gem a spin. Who knows? You might fall head over boots for Misty Mountain. Just don’t blame me if you start craving moonshine and flannel shirts afterward.
