from the fruited plain and the rusted carcasses of ohio's industrial sea comes the fresh-faced, doe-eyed white mountains. "this timbered choir will sing our collapse" is a pinecone-laden excursion through the soft underbelly of decaying forests and greying thickets. white mountains employs washes of feedback and hum to navigate through the dense tangles of acoustic scree. cool blasts of treated field recordings fill in the gaps. by the end of the albums 41+ minutes, your leaf-covered body will feel all at once exhausted and rested. oh, to be 15 again.. 100 copies