Fans and critics have long struggled with favorite artists maturing, but Portland singer-songwriter Mirah has traced a mostly upward trajectory with all manner of aging-artist-things: increasingly assured vocals, more poetic and less overtly personal lyrics, moving the studio out of the bedroom, a remix album. The granddaddy of them all, 2007's Share This Place: Stories and Observations, was a publicly commissioned multimedia art project recorded with orchestral ensemble Spectratone International, single-handedly covering nearly 19 maturing stereotypes. The Old Days Feeling, then, is appropriately named: an odds and sods collection of obscure material that hews closest to the tumultuous, typically K Records sounds of her debut, You Think It's Like This But Really It's Like This.
Of course, as anyone familiar with the debut knows, Mirah uses her bedroom for more than a studio, and her funny, brash, coffeehouse (no pejorative) sexuality is a theme throughout Old Days. Mirah's pillow/microphone talk isn't shockingly explicit so much as refreshingly direct: "Hey how 'bout some of that lubrication?/ 'Cause this motor's getting ready for some fornication" stands out during "Dreamboat", but feel free to apply your most "That's what she said"-inspiring interpretations to lines like "you're as big as Texas" and "take me out riding." Mirah examines how sex changes relationships, so while the latter part of a line like "what ever happened to the sweet young chick/ Who fell for the babe with the strap-on prick" um, pricks ears, "What happened?" is the substantive sentiment. "Lone Star", though nominally about a large penis, sees Mirah willing to fall for anyone who "drops his pants" but then "drops out of school."
Old Days also functions as a tour of Northwest indie rock. Phil Elvrum appears as a collaborator and recording partner throughout. Calvin Johnson lends his Dub Narcotic studio to several tracks and pens the gushing and thoughtful liner notes, despite Old Days release coming by way of Minneapolis' Modern Radio records. "Slighted", a swaying, horn-fed jaunt, originally appeared on the Microphones' Blood, features Elvrum, Karl Blau, and Jason Anderson, and "Lonesome Sundown" was written by Johnson and Built to Spill's Doug Martsch. It's a community comp, with songs originally appearing on albums like lovetapelove that return zero Google hits.
As expected, Old Days by and large features less orchestration than even You Think It's Like This, but these aren't acoustic guitar demos: "Location Temporary" (when Mirah is not talking about sex she is often talking about spatial relationships) features stringy piano chords and buried cymbal work. On "Heat Gets Hotter", Mirah treats her voice with a quivering chorus effect and sings over a tissue-thin electronic beat, creating what could be a haphazard High Places single. The rattling percussion and affecting, overdubbed vocals of "The Place" suggest strange, collegiate psychedelics. "Don't!" is a near revelation and likely responsible Johnson tabbing the Ronettes in the liners: Mirah supplies both stridently confident, sassy lead vocals-- "There's no-o-oo sense in breaking up with you/ But it's what I've gotta do"-- and got-her-back "whoo-o-oo"'s.
Old Days hardly feels comprehensive at just over 30 minutes, but they are 30 minutes of Mirah that disappeared quickly in the face of cleverly orchestrated left-field pop records like C'mon Miracle and Share This Place. Collaborations, compilation appearances, odd arrangements: Old Days features all the objective elements of useful rarities disc, but it's doubly valuable for reminding us of a Mirah that might've grown up too fast.
