Old Rag Mountain: A Box From The Field – An Ode to Rustic Reverie
If you’ve ever wondered what it’d be like to sit cross-legged in a sun-dappled meadow, letting the world hum its unpolished tune into your ears, then Old Rag Mountain: A Box From The Field by Rag Lore is your ticket. Released back in 2012 under Poor Farm Editions Press, this little gem doesn’t just play music—it spills open like a box of secrets whispered straight from nature herself. And yeah, it’s one of those albums that makes you question if "music" is even the right word for it.
Let’s get real here: this isn’t your Spotify playlist filler. It’s field recordings at their rawest—a blend of folkish vibes and earthy grit. Everything about it screams DIY charm, from Matthew Russell Boteilho’s triple-threat role (designer, photographer, recordist) to the stripped-down tracklist. Two tracks, really? Yup. But trust me, they’re enough.
Take Sounds From The Field, PT I. This piece feels like stepping barefoot onto damp grass early in the morning. There’s no grand crescendo or flashy instrumentation—just wind rustling through leaves, birds chirping their tiny hearts out, and maybe the faint creak of a wooden fence post somewhere off in the distance. You can almost smell the dirt as you listen. It’s not polished or perfect, but that’s exactly why it sticks with you. In a world obsessed with Auto-Tune and synth drops, there’s something grounding about hearing life as it happens, unfiltered.
Then there’s Sounds From The Field, PT II, which hits different. While still rooted in the same vibe, this one leans more mysterious, almost haunting. Maybe it’s the way the cicadas buzz louder, or how distant footsteps echo like ghosts wandering through time. It’s less “picnic in the park” and more “stumbling upon an abandoned barn.” Listening to it feels like uncovering a hidden chapter of some forgotten story.
What ties these tracks together is how effortlessly they transport you. You don’t need lyrics or beats; the soundscape itself becomes the narrative. It’s messy, beautiful, and kinda magical all at once.
So who’s this album for? Honestly, probably not everyone. If you’re looking for chart-topping bops or bass-heavy bangers, keep scrolling. But if you dig stuff that’s weirdly meditative and deeply human, give this a spin. Hell, throw on some headphones and take a walk outside while it plays—you might start seeing your own backyard in a whole new light.
Here’s the kicker though: after listening to Old Rag Mountain, I found myself wondering…what would happen if we stopped trying so hard to control art and instead let it grow wild, untamed, like weeds breaking through cracked pavement? Maybe that’s what makes albums like this special—they remind us that sometimes, beauty doesn’t need permission to exist.
