Song Review: “Lazarus” by |elevens|
Breaking free from the weight of the past is never easy. While the future pushes forward, the past continues to weigh heavily, laden with unkept promises and unachieved goals. The familiar saying reminds us that each day offers a new opportunity, yet not all situations can be fully resolved. Over time, these unresolved matters accumulate, distancing us further from their completion. We lose touch with the inspiration that once sparked them, evolving as time moves us away from the person we once were. Reflecting on these unfinished dreams can bring those distant memories back to life, but achieving their resolution? That requires Herculean effort–one that demands not just resolve, but grace and patience.
It is within this mindset that we find the music of |elevens|, the new project from Richmond musician Mike Ferster. With his latest track, “Lazarus,” Ferster captures the essence of this struggle and growth, perfectly embodying the idea of an “evolving solo project” he laid down at the onset of this undertaking. A juxtaposition of visceral power and reflective meditation, the song features a modular approach that builds on the push-and-pull between rebirth and progress, linking them intrinsically in a way that more closely resembles a revival, a renaissance even. It’s a daring entry into a young discography and one that very clearly paints a picture of true experimentation–creation that runs both parallel and perpendicular to the expected norms of songwriting, production, and recording.
The song begins with rhythmic stomps and a vocal outburst that immediately establish a sense of mystery and intrigue. Before long, a shimmering guitar loop emerges, casting a brighter light on the cryptic atmosphere, which is further enhanced by the direct clarity of the vocals. “Coming up from underground / See my face in the dirt,” Ferster sings, setting the stage for a rise from hardship. “Behold what’s been underground / And the footsteps that follow,” he continues, the final breath marking the transition to a new set of twinkling guitar notes, signaling the anticipation of an impending revelation. However, just before the reveal, the guitar falls back into its original pattern, now accompanied by a choral arrangement and thundering drums, amplifying the song’s intensity.
“Wouldn’t be a mystery / To find out what it means to me,” he sings in the second verse, stripping away the song’s enigmatic aura and letting its message ring out, as loud as the swelling storm beneath. A tempestuous guitar solo cuts through, empyreal in tone but primal in its resonance, while the central lyric transforms into an empowering mantra, propelling the song’s rise far beyond the horizon of its origins “(The mark of a memory / The mark of a memory / The mark of a memory).” As the rhythm dulls and the distorted guitar fades, the background vocals linger, resonating with cathartic harmony, reflecting the true ascension that was sought and finally achieved.
This new track offers a stark contrast to “Kindness For Weakness,” the debut single from |elevens|, which leaned more toward straightforward folk-rock introspection. This shift aligns with the fluid, evolving nature of |elevens|, a project Ferster has described as being “told in chapters,” reflecting different phases of his life through distinct songwriting periods. Some of these chapters overlap with his work alongside artists like Lucy Dacus and groups such as FLKL and Dharma Bombs, where certain songs didn’t quite mesh with their collective sound or aesthetic. Others trace back to his early, solitary explorations in music–experiments that not only helped him find his voice but amplify it. “Lazarus” belongs to the latter, with Ferster noting that it was recorded during his teenage years while he worked as a camp counselor. “I was recording in an old cabin that shook and rumbled when you walked around in it,” he stated on social media. “I loved the sound, so I pounded a 4×4 against the floor to get the ‘kick drum’ sound. The big vocal chorus is also part of the original recording and was the result of some early Tascam multitrack experimenting.”
The structure of “Lazarus” is as unconventional as its genesis, distancing itself from bridges and choruses and instead offering a set of verses that culminate in an extended coda. This approach allows the song to feel like a true ascension, one that doesn’t revert back into itself multiple times for the sake of melody or catchiness, but instead follows a more organic, upward progression, reinforcing its thematic journey and emotional depth. “Kindness For Weakness” offered a similar approach, though with its rootsy sound, felt originally more aligned with traditional folk expressions that made classics out of songs like “The Times They Are A-Changin’” and “The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald” and cult favorites of modern tracks like “Walking Far From Home” and “One Sunday Morning (Song for Jane Smiley’s Boyfriend).”
“Lazarus,” however, offers deeper insight, revealing Ferster’s artistic intent to move beyond the boundaries of traditional song structures and norms. While “Kindness For Weakness” demonstrated that this ethos could still remain accessible, “Lazarus” pushes these limits further, creating a space where convention takes a backseat to a more introspective, almost spiritual journey. This break from tradition not only complements the song’s thematic richness but also highlights Ferster’s growing commitment to experimentation, carving out a fresh sonic territory for |elevens|. “Lazarus” defies listener expectations and genre conventions, revealing more about a dynamic soundscape that evolves with every track–one we’re eager to explore further in his next single, or perhaps, Chapter Three.
“Lazarus” is out now on all streaming platforms. To learn more about |elevens| and to stay up-to-date on future releases, make sure to follow him on Spotify and Instagram.
