Zephuros

Over the last month or so, I have been trying to settle my opinions of a lone singer/song-writer from Athens, Ohio named Kevin Meyer, known to the music world as Zephuros. He makes no secret of his man-love for Chicago musician Andrew Bird; and I can't say there isn't a sort of apprentice quality to Meyer's newest release, The Drowned Coast. The album unabashedly revolves around the animal kingdom. Every song lauds the bucolic life of feathered critters among or some other doey-eyed tree or sea dwellers. It is as if Zeph imagines his arranged flutes, clarinets, and strings have the ambiance of Peter and the Wolf. I am left with the impression that he wanted to produce something intrinsically beautiful. The album is segmented by instrumental movements meant to melodically capture the soft pink shades of sunrise, sunset, and all the waking life in between. This grandeur is only reinforced by comparisons from friendly home media.

"By the impression left by his music, Meyer comes off as the type of person who, despite eye-rolling annoyance from certain friends (read: the articles author), would just feel wrong setting up mouse traps or squashing a bug.

Perhaps what feels wrong above all, however, is that The Drowned Coast's seemingly simple acoustic songs about animals can, and at some point probably will, bring listeners to tears. The reason for this is simple: Zephuros' wildlife lyrics reflect more insight into human nature than those of many young singer-songwriters today."

Hyperbole permeates every letter of the above review—and I love hyperbole. However, this does a severe disservice to Zephuros' most attractive attributes. Zephuros doesn't need another review that explains to the C.S. Lewis reading, coffee house egos why they should listen to him.

This record says very little about human nature.
This record will never make me—or any of you—cry.

The lyrics are interesting, ranging from nondescript platitudes to observational non sequiturs. Seeing a snowflake on a leopard's spine is an image of novelty; it is one among many that work to create a folksy sense of Earth-as-Art. Oceanic emeralds and tender touches from the brisk breeze exemplify a body of lyrics concerned more with aesthetics than content. But that is the extent of Mr. Meyer's troubles. If only the rest of us were lucky enough to be flawed only by an absurd obsession with form.

Zephuros' collection of crystalline melody is near perfect. The orchestration is at once humble and gigantic. The opposing forces of The Drowned Coast underscore Zephuros' most exceptional quality. He is able to write and arrange with depth and charisma, while maintaining an aura of wonderment and innocent ambition. When I hear this man and his band, I am reminded of Schroeder, or an unsure, unsteady Nick Drake. The likeness comes not from any obvious influence, but from an underlying spirit of contemplative adventure. All of Zeph's worth is invested in that spirit—what is unknown and inquisitive to human nature. The Drowned Coast does not reveal anything to us. Rather more descriptively, it comforts our lost and inextricably incomplete sense of self. His words are not experiential, they are observational. Zephuros does not write about wildlife, he writes about the most mundane and beautifully banal humanlife.

-FF

6/9 - Frederick Foxtrott

by Jillian Mapes

The crowd at Zephuros' August 23, 2008 CD release show at Donkey Coffee roared in unconditional acceptance of the singer-songwriter's latest work of musical wonder, titled The Drowned Coast. The show would be his last and the album his local swan song.

As local musician Zephuros, AKA former OU student Kevin Meyer, played through his album track-by-track, the same mood of acceptance set by his audience rang true to his latest musical effort. With its often melancholy orchestral lines and delicate acoustic finger-picking, The Drowned Coast is an album of open-minded introspection that examines an unassumingly beautiful world. But don't let the beauty in Meyer's songs fool you – there is a subtle ache in his words and emotional strings to frame them.

It becomes clear that whether entirely purposeful or otherwise, Meyer draws most of his inspiration from nature, specifically animals. Ducks, egrets, whales, flies, squirrels, leopards, foxes, grizzly bears, meadowlarks and roebucks (a European deer, to be exact), however, can be found roaming throughout The Drowned Coast as freely as they would in a meadow. Those mythical meadows where land-locked whales aren't fantasy and the grizzly bears would respect the roebucks enough not to consider them dinner's main course.

There is only one song that Meyer claims is not directly about the animal species on The Drowned Coast, the album's final track, titled "Mount Rainier." The nearly 9-minute track features lyrics that describe the natural environment surrounding Mount Rainier, all in a plea for the real-life volcano to stay dormant. A sweeping symphony crescendos just slightly as the song builds up to its solemn chorus, providing the track with a sense of give and take.

At his CD release show, it was expected that at the beginning of each track, meek-voiced Meyer would say something along the lines of, "This is a song about a fly who wanted to meet a whale." It is this exact introduction that Meyer uses to frame "Thousand Eyes," a sweet, strummy tune that displays Meyer's vocal range as his singing moves through higher tones.

While it is a gentle voice similar to Ben Gibbard (of Death Cab for Cutie) that sings Zephuros' songs, Meyer's musical style is comparable to those of Sufjan Stevens (sans the bizarre public persona) and Andrew Bird, a multi-instrumentalist with whom Meyer has shared the stage.

It is here on The Drowned Coast that Meyer's multi-instrumentalist background and Andrew Bird affinity seem to surface. There is a full orchestra of OU students at the helm of Zephuros' musical departure from his first self-release effort, The Black Gull. Providing an interlude between each song and accompaniments throughout every track, the orchestra's high-flying flutes, meandering clarinets and thoughtful piano parts provide the musical variation needed to set The Drowned Coast apart from other acoustic albums.

After one Zephuros album, however, one may be left yearning for a bit more edge, perhaps a touch of abrasion, in addition to the orchestral variance that aids in establishing instrumental depth. The track "Emerald Sea," which tells the story of an immigrant deer attempting to make his way to the U.S., provides a more climatic ending to the album. As the song progresses, it becomes clear that it is more about a family separated by distance than an antlered mammal. The subject of family, which is addressed on "Emerald Sea," is one that Meyer often references, always focusing on the importance of loved ones.

Meyer is, above all, a lyricist who uses adjectives and descriptive phrases to paint vivid portraits of the world outside his window. Beyond the obvious fuzzy animal bit, however, the whimsical stories Meyer tells lyrically are not storybook tales. On the track "Winter Solstice," Zephuros tells the heartbreaking story of a young fox that loses his parents and nearly freezes to death. "I will protect you/And I will embrace you," Meyer croons as the song's lowest point, which comes just before the fox is saved by a pack of grizzly bears. "We will protect you/We will embrace you," the grizzly bears tell the fox, a gesture that represents the kindness of strangers.

By the impression left by his music, Meyer comes off as the type of person who, despite eye-rolling annoyance from certain friends, would just feel wrong setting up mouse traps or squashing a bug.

Perhaps what feels wrong above all, however, is that The Drowned Coast's seemingly simple acoustic songs about animals can, and at some point probably will, bring listeners to tears. The reason for this is simple: Zephuros' wildlife lyrics reflect more insight into human nature than those of many young singer-songwriters today. - Speakeasy Magazine

by Kelly Vormelker

It feels like Zephuros magically can help melt away snow from hillsides and rooftops, revealing the life that lives beneath the frozen blanket. Zephuros' songs, backed with real and often dark meaning, are worth warming up with this bitter winter.

Zephuros, which signifies the god of the west wind, is the ethereal nomenclature attached to sleepy guitar picker Kevin Meyer. Meyer, a senior at Ohio University, has successfully and permanently branded the name Zephuros with his first CD, The Black Gull, released to the masses in spring of 2007.

The Black Gull is like taking a long, winding walk on a Sunday afternoon. One foot slowly glides in front of the other, gently passing over the path beneath them. Clouds lazily drift away, and sunlight warms the cheeks as Meyer sweetly sings the wanderer into a state of complacency.

Complacency slides into delirium as images of lonely spiders, parental polar bears and weeping egret birds run across the path in front of the methodical feet.

Then an unexpected root emerges. A scuffling foot is caught under the impostor, and the complacent wanderer trips across the deeper meaning that is inherent in each of Zephuros' tracks.

"When I first started writing music, it was the typical brokenhearted thing," Meyer said. "Then I wrote a song about an animal, and people seemed to like that, so I started and kept writing songs about animals and nature. People have said that they have fallen asleep to my music before, which I take as a big compliment because it is very chill and relaxing."

On the surface of the layered path that is The Black Gull, Meyer appears to be singing and calmly strumming purely of furry animals and lovely scenes of the outdoors. However, even the vainest listener will hear the deep, dark undertones that sink into the wet, gooey tar below the surface and convey a greater meaning.

Meyer's music is not all sunshine and cobblestone paths. Lurking around each winding turn is death, loneliness and real meaning that is universal and pervasive.

Meyer casually connects greater meaning and human emotions to animal characters. This is a technique he calls "anthropomorphism," attaching human characteristics to nonhuman things.

When asked if this cynicism is a reflection of Meyer's personality, the answer is no. "Not at all," Meyer said. "It is strange. I like to think I am pretty outgoing, but musically it is pretty dark stuff. Lots of dying animals."

One such example is in the song "Mr. Squirrel's Family": "He thought about his family and smiled about how he couldn't wait to get home to his wife and son / On his way back home he thought he heard a cry come from his tree / As he got closer he saw the villain by his nest and his wife dead in the ground / A tear fell from his face." A simple song about a squirrel becomes a tale of pain and loss, a feeling that is palpable for people and squirrels alike.

Each and every song on The Black Gull has a similar buried meaning that emerges as the listener calmly walks through each track. Meyer explains the song "Arctic Winter": "That particular song is about a mother that wakes up, and she doesn't know where her son is, so she is freaking out because she can't find her son. Turns out that he is just out playing. The song is not just about polar bears. I tend to typically try and put these animals in human situations."

On this compilation Meyer was joined by Michele Bartos on cello, Bruce Dalzell on upright bass and Dinah Berkeley on vocals. Nathan Zangmeister initially approached Meyer to record an album. "It was a really fun experience," Meyer said. "I hadn't really done this before. To be in such a nice studio with Nate, it was perfect. I only spent, like, 20 hours on it. I am really proud of what it is, and I made my money back, so that is a good thing."

Zephuros has seen success in Athens with The Black Gull. The serene tracks fit snuggly into the valleys of rolling hills in Athens and effectively reach its often jaded students.

Meyer is currently on a trek to create a second album that will be enhanced by a chamber orchestra. Moving forward on this latest journey, Meyer is working with Zangmeister again. This CD is expected to be ready for release in April. Fans can expect to hear the same kind of anthropomorphic melodies, weathered with time and experience and enhanced by new instrumentation.

"Mike Evans is the composer," Meyer said of his next album. "He has an oboe, flute, bassoon, string quartet, piano and French horn. He has a couple of songs already done, and I heard them on the computer. They blew me away, so I'm really excited to hear what it will sound like with actual instruments and not just computer instruments," Meyer said of his next album.

Meyer will continue to write songs that feature images of nature backed by real issues and meaning, but soon he will be writing far from Appalachia, the place that first sparked his inspiration.

"There is - Speakeasy Magazine

by Amber James

Dressed in a suit and tie, Kevin Meyer of Zephuros means business when he takes the stage. Leaving relationship woes at the door, Meyer focuses on the tragically beautiful essence of nature instead.

The Ohio University senior began writing three years ago and became enamored with the wildlife in Athens. Using animals and insects as his "gimmick," Meyer decided to create an entire album of mellow, entrancing music to reflect the circle of life.

Meyer released The Black Gull in June. The 11-song CD takes listeners on a journey, waking with the birds and eventually falling asleep with the stars. Meyer uses nature and animals as inspiration for his album, but most of them die by the song's last chord.

"It's pretty dark, but I think people can find this new emotion that they wouldn't expect to get from my music," Meyer said.Meyer became inspired to write about nature and tragedies as he walked to class one day.

"As dark as it sounds, I saw this dead squirrel on the ground and this hawk in the tree and put two and two together and wrote about it," he said.

The song "Mr. Squirrel's Family" set the concept for the rest of his album. While Meyer is the solo mastermind behind Zephuros, his album includes musicians Michele Bartos (cello), Bruce Dalzell (bass) and Dinah Berkeley (vocals).

But Meyer's haunting music is only a façade. Off the stage, he is upbeat and friendly. When he is not performing, he participates in the Lost Flamingo Company and maintains the group's Web site.

"Entertaining people, whether it is acting or singing, is something I love to do ... and it's definitely more fun than going to class," Meyer said.

Tonight, Meyer will share the stage with Denison Witmer and Marla Hansen.

"[Witmer] is an influence of mine, so it just blows my mind that I get the chance to share the stage with him," Meyer said. "This is going to be huge." - The Post

"... Zephuros is a truly gifted singer-songwriter who should be demanding more of our attention."
- Sam Oches, The Athens Messenger

"The narratives that he weaves with his surprisingly delicate voice always seem to have dark overtones, but are tempered by the promise of at least a bittersweet ending."
- Clay Flaherty, Athens News

"Zephuros spoke meekly to the audience most of whom were completely enamored with the Ohio University senior, listening to his subtle, but often eerie, songs about polar bears and egrets. His surprising amount of stage presence actually lies in the fact that he has such a unique personality. Each song flowed through the singer with the kind of earnestness often lost on young adults."
- Devon Antonetti, Athens Messenger

"Solo singer and songwriter Kevin Meyer is the man behind Zephuros, a band whose songs possess brilliantly sleepy lyrics that rival poetry, disguising hauntingly dark undertones with bright images of nature’s creatures. Influences from Sufjan Stevens as well as Iron & Wine are clearly heard through his gentle crooning and guitar-picking."
- Melanie Barnes, Speakeasymag.com - Athens News

by Isaac Smith

With his gently-sung lyrics accompanied by his finger picking style of guitar, Zephuros (who is really Kevin Meyer, an OU student) has truly put together an excellent, relaxing album that is The Black Gull.

The Black Gull is an album by OU student Kevin Meyer, going by Zephuros on his album, where he is joined by many of the other amazing musicians of Athens. Meyer starts out his album with "Awake with the Birds," a lovely instrumental song that transitions beautifully to the second track, "Flesh and Blood."

This second track, in which Meyer describes his family, is just as beautiful as the one that he chose to start his album. With his beautiful voice, and lovely guitar, it's hard to believe that this is an OU student. Michele Bartos adds a lovely touch to the album with the cello that continues in the background, in essence smoothing out the song.

"The Black Gull" breaks away from the smoothness of the two prior tracks, instead opting for a much more oriental tone. Once again, Meyer's skills are astounding. It's not until roughly 45 seconds before this almost three minute long song is over do vocals and the rest of the group come in. With the few words sung, and an overall lulling tone to this song, Zephuros continues with the beauty of his other songs.

Once again, he ties songs together. "Eagle and a Mouse" follows without so much as a gap after "The Black Gull." Meyer's music is perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon — or morning, for that matter. I can't help but sing along with the last minute of the album, though. The repeated

Thank you for saving my soul
Thank you for saving my soul

is just amazing. It's so gentle, and so pretty. For some reason, this seems to be so rare right now. It seems so hard to find that perfect Sunday morning music.

"Quiet Flame" is the fifth track on this album of 11. One thing that should be noted about Zephuros that you might have noticed already is that he is absolutely in love with nature. His song, "Quiet Flame," proves this even more. A song about a nature walk written as it were to his greatest love, this song is once again amazingly beautiful.

It's so hard to start paragraphs with this album. Everything is always about how beautiful each track is. "A Dove Lullaby" is the next amazing track on this album. This and "The Black Gull" are my two favorite songs on the album so far. They have a more obvious "finger picking" feel to them, and the lyrics move much faster. Meyer is as good at instrumental tunes as he is at the ballads he has put on this album. Being a lullaby, as stated in the title, "A Dove Lullaby" is beautiful, lulling, and relies on the lyrics just as much as the beautiful guitar behind them to be beautiful.

"Arctic Winter" is gentle, and comes after one of the few gaps between songs on this album. What a beautiful song this is. The cello returns. And we have another flawless segue (which is the technical term for a musical transition) into the next song. "Lonely Spider" is an absolutely lovely ballad. I must admit, though, it will probably make the sensitive cry. Being very lyrically based with the gently played guitar of Kevin Meyer, this song is just written to be sad. But, that's what makes it so beautiful. I honestly find parallels with "The Little Girl and the Dreadful Snake." Both songs are tragic.

The poison ran through her veins
And her chest began to hurt

She walked to the light
As her father held her body

It's somewhat unclear as to whether the girl in the song who friends the lonely spider, only to be tricked, survives. That doesn't take away from the beauty of the song.

Of course, Meyer follows "Lonely Spider" with another tearjerker of a song, "Mr. Squirrel's Family." Yet again, it relies heavily on the beautiful lyrics, which are written much more as prose than as a poem, and the gentle finger picking guitar by Meyer. Once more, the lyrics contain a tragic twist. It's time to break out the Kleenex — or Puffs, or whatever — because Meyer has put one tearjerker right after the other! I must say, were I in the right mood, these songs would make me cry.

On this album, I must say that Meyer has three styles in which he writes his songs. He has the very gentle and relaxing song, which many of the songs toward the beginning of the album fit into. Then, there are the tragedy songs, which are definitely "Lonely Spider" and "Mr. Squirrel's Family." You'll notice that I haven't brought up "The Black Gull" and "A Dove Lullaby." They both fit in the third category, along with "Adelies and (sic) Emporers." These seem to have a different type of gentle to this. Here, Meyer plays accompanied by the mandolin, with the lovely (and I must say circular) finger picking he does on his guitar. They are played higher up on the neck, up on the small frets. A more minor key seems to be found in these songs as well.

"Asleep with the Stars" is the final song on the album. It falls into the first category o - Triangle Music Reviews