Elephants...Teeth Sinking into Heart

Writing about it is only a selfish excuse to return to Rachael Yamagata’s double album Elephants…Teeth Sinking Into Heart. Unlike most albums that I am nostalgic for, this one doesn’t transport me back to a single moment. My journey with it unfolded over years. Perhaps it started with Duet, an aptly named song that I first encountered in high school. Later in college, I discovered Horizon, a song I deemed worthy of sharing with my first girlfriend. A 7 minute long epic, I wonder if she ever made it to the heart breaking bridge.

After Elephants served as a soundtrack of maturity and shallow emotion connections, I started the second disc, Teeth Sinking Into Heart. My only memory of that side is a friend telling me how much he hated the song Don't as we listened to it while playing FIFA 24. I can see how the first half would have more appeal than the second, but songs like Sidedish Friend and Pause the Tragic Ending are confrontational anthems that display Yamagata’s versatility as a songwriter.

But beyond the Yamagata's songwriting, what stands out is the tone of the album shaped by Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes. On Don’t, Yamagata's deep voice, melts into atmospheric washes of reverb-drenched guitars, alongside the album’s signature round piano melodies. Songs like Sunday Afternoon would have fit perfectly next to Roslyn on the Twilight soundtrack. I can’t quite understand why this album didn’t hit harder commercially especially after her first album, Happenstance, positioned Elephants...Teeth Sinking into Heart positioned herself to be a key figure in blossoming indie landscape of the 2000's.

As I write this, I’m listening to What If I Leave, one of the few tracks led by electric guitar instead of acoustic or piano. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the emotions I once associated with this album. The warm melancholy has now been replaced by a sharp awareness of this being my last year of college. The uncertainty in Yamagata’s voice, singing about the end of a relationship, feels very different from the uncertainty I feel about my future, and yet, somehow, it resonates in a similar way.