I recently began reading Dawn by Phil Elverum, a masterfully printed book accompanied by a CD that delves into his time spent and psyche during an extended winter stay in the barren northern region of Norway. And while Dawn finds Elverum giving a slight nod to the beats and Kerouak, his new one under the guise of Mount Eerie, Wind’s Poem, leans more toward David Lynch. It also finds Elverum straying from the soft guitar poetry that has dominated the more recent work produced in the Mount Eerie name.