The late, esteemed poet Mary Oliver once wrote about her connection to nature: “In the beginning I was so young and such a stranger to myself I hardly existed. I had to go out into the world and see it and hear it and react to it, before I knew at all who I was, what I was, what I wanted to be.” For Oliver, nature was very much a reflection of the self—if not a window into her psyche, a mirror of it.
These themes are embedded throughout singer/songwriter Evelyn Eng’s debut single, “Run with the Eventide”: a tranquil masterclass on finding oneself both in and through nature.
This song, which feels at home in the soundtrack for a 21st century reprise of Titanic, carries an undeniable ethereal quality. As she muses about the ocean’s influence on her emotions and perspective, Eng is the siren drawing listeners into her oceanic dwelling. Yet, contrary to the cruel intentions that sirens often obscure behind their entrancing vocals, Eng’s mesmerizing serenade takes us on a beautiful journey into her mind. The qualities of the ocean-side are but a reflection of her inner psyche.
There’s a wall wrapped around me
A sea of glass, so high
Oh the waters try to climb
Then they’re gone into the deep
They return into the heart of the sea
Throughout “Run with the Eventide’s” runtime, Eng shows off the finesse of her mezzo-soprano vocals which with layered harmonies of weightless high notes and rounded, soulful low notes, create a beautiful symphony. It is with these melodious notes that Eng vocalizes her disparate feelings toward the ocean, viewing it as both a representation of the tumult and worries in her life yet simultaneously a place to be soothed by the oscillating pattern of the tides.
I come here at night
To run with the eventide
Oh the winds might howl at me
You tell them to hold their peace
Then the waters fall asleep
While promoting “Run with the Eventide” on her Facebook Page, Eng wrote that, “the unpredictable ocean currents used to frighten me, but then I remember the times it’s been completely still and it gets me to thinking that even the ocean, in all its might, is submissive to a higher power.”
When listening to “Run with the Eventide” in this context, the ocean takes the form of Eng’s role model. It is an entity with its own moods and troubles in which Eng can find solace and confide in. Like Mary Oliver, it is through visiting the ocean and finding its qualities relatable that Eng finds out who she is, what she is, and what she wants to be.
This personal narrative about contextualizing one’s tribulations as existing within a broader purpose rests above an equally intimate backbeat. With constant currents of soft percussive elements and a light piano that crescendo alongside a beautiful string melody, Eng manages to sonically recreate the peaceful majesty of the ocean for her listeners, only further drawing us into her relationship with nature.
Ultimately, Eng’s intimate portrait of herself as represented by the components of the ocean is a pensive, Squirrel Flower-esque must-hear that cultivates an utterly infectious calming ambiance that I’d like to sink into indefinitely. The combination of her intimate lyrics and vivid translation of the sonic qualities of the ocean-side into song makes listening to “Run with the Eventide” feel like a virtual reality experience— all-encompassing and incredibly compelling. After repeatedly listening to this beautiful debut, I feel as though I have gained an insight into Eng’s mind. In watching Eng her find herself through nature, I am inspired to do the same.
