Mirah's recipe for perfection is a mix of hope, difficulties, and integrity

By Laura Leebove
Published: March 10th, 2009 | 4:40am

Mirah’s approach to music isn’t much different than her approach to cooking. “I’m terrible at following recipes,” says the Portland-based singer-songwriter. “I never really follow them. I change all the proportions and half the ingredients. In the end, I end up making my own thing entirely.” But altering a recipe usually means doing it a little differently each time until the measurements are finally just right. When it comes to her music, Mirah says she still hasn’t hit perfection — and that’s exactly what makes the title of her March 10 release, (a)spera (K Records), appropriate: It’s taken from the Latin words aspera, which means difficulties, and spera, which means hope.

Mirah (full name Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn) has always done things her own way, both in business practice and in her music. None of her five solo studio LPs have been recorded in only one location; she booked nearly all of her own shows for the first six or seven years of touring; and while she admits to using more digital technology on (a)spera than on her past efforts, she says utilizing those tools sometimes makes her feel like “a bad kid.”

Listeners were first drawn to the unpolished sound of Mirah’s 1997 debut, Storageland (Yoyo), with its sometimes muffled vocals, raw guitars, and background-noise cracklings. She signed to K Records in 1999; and a decade later, she says what keeps her going is trying new things, retrying old things, and keeping herself interested. “I’m always trying to make [an album] that I can … sit back and appreciate as having no imperfections at all,” she says. “And that desire is what keeps me working because I always find imperfections. … At the same time, I recognize that the rough spots are part of what had made my recordings interesting to people, but it didn’t stop me from desiring to some day be done with the rough spots.”

In terms of production, (a)spera is worlds away from the minimalist approach of Storageland, or even Mirah’s first K effort, 2000’s You Think It’s Like This But Really It’s Like This. The record opens with a burst of strings in “Generosity,” while “Shells” is backed by the harp-like West African instrument the kora, and “Country of the Future” is rooted in Brazilian percussion.

(A)spera’s sonic imperfections are expectedly harder to pick out than in her earlier work, although Mirah says her friend and longtime collaborator Phil Elverum (of Mount Eerie and the Microphones) has often tried to preserve them. “[Elverum] doesn’t like to nitpick over things,” she says. “He likes to get things on the first take, and some of it’s the rougher the better for him: the more raw, the emotion of the first time, maybe the insecurity that you can hear or the unknowingness in a voice or an instrument. … We’ve had interesting times and good times working together because I appreciate that.” On (a)spera, she also collaborated with the Decemberists’ Chris Funk, producer-engineer Tucker Martine, and songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Tara Jane ONeil on several tracks.

But even though Mirah has added instruments, spanned genres, and experimented with different producers and recording methods throughout her career, she’s made these changes without compromising the integrity behind them. Part of staying true to herself has been her long relationship with K Records. While the indie track is “a hard road to hoe,” Mirah says she has no regrets. “It’s a labor of love in a lot of ways, but I believe in love … and I admire the tenacity to see this vision through, to see it to its fruition and to not sort of bend under the pressure of … a capitalist society.”

Mirah’s definitely not in this for the money, and she’s still surprised that she can actually sing and make music for a living. “I’m not that great with money,” she says, and admits that if it weren’t for her girlfriend being her personal accountant, she’d give away most of her earnings. Says the girl who at 12 years old spent her Double Dare winnings on the Great Peace March for Global Nuclear Disarmament: “I mean, some of it I might spend on myself. But, actually, I would just give it away and be really generous. It’d be really fun for a short amount of time, and then I’d have to come up with a Plan B.”

Following recipes might not be her forte, but there’s no doubt that Mirah’s values come much from her family and the natural foods bakery they ran out of their Philadelphia basement while she was growing up. “They were self-employed people and we had a modest but very comfortable, very safe environment. … I had a very well-provided-for childhood, and my parents made knishes in the basement, you know?!” she says. “What I believe is that people in institutions with integrity are worth supporting and being a part of.”

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