100's of 1000's, Millions of Billions

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Blitzen Trapper had a good run. From their early beginnings as a trippy and somewhat unfocused psychedelic band through their 2007/2008 critical and commercial peak with the energetic, jammy indie-folk of Wild Mountain Nation and Furr, and into the comfortable, slightly quirky take on dad-rock they played up through the time the original lineup split in 2019, the Portland, Oregon, group notched an impressive, two-decade career. And now, they're having another good run. Bandleader Eric Earley resuscitated the Blitzen Trapper moniker in 2020 for Holy Smokes Future Jokes, which was essentially a solo album with contributions from studio players and former band members. That record's warm spaciousness—a sort of crunchy-granola gentility that walked right up to the line of acoustic psychedelia—was clearly in the same universe as Blitzen Trapper's late-period work, but it was also notably quite a bit more consistently mellow than the band had been in the past. That approach continues with 100's of 1000's, Millions of Billions, an album that continues to move this version of Blitzen Trapper (which is now Earley, longtime BT drummer Brian Koch, along with newer members Michael Elson and Nathan Vanderpool) forward on a new path. While it occasionally buzzes with some of the band's early energy (most notably on the bouncy "Hello Hallelujah"), the record largely explores a more ruminative vibe. Earley apparently found twin inspiration from both his recent studies of Buddhism and his exploration of some old homemade cassettes of songs he had written before the first incarnations of Blitzen Trapper. That collision of the emotional intensity of youth and the spiritual peacefulness of middle age provides a bit of tension throughout the record, but, mostly, 100's of 1000's keeps in a solid midtempo lane of warm, analog wistfulness. Thus, you get a track like "Cosmic Backseat Education" that manages to combine echo-ey piano balladry with rearview mirror teen angst, or the sensitive acoustic soft rock of "View From Jackson Hill" that seems nostalgic, but is actually painting a vivid picture of emotional struggle. It's a decidedly mature album—ironic considering the original source of inspiration behind many of the songs, especially one like "Hesher in the Rain"—and while Earley's fascination with Buddhism sometimes gets a little on the nose ("Upon the Chain"), the essence of that spiritual searching is vital to what makes this record's textures so impactful and enveloping. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz