The Volcano – Mano Sinistra (2025) – Album Review

“a loveletter to Mt. St. Helens or Lawetat’la

made possible by the Mt. St. Helens Institute Artists in Residence Program and the US Forest Service”

It was a very interesting evening the night I met Mano. We were at Portland’s monthly event “Live in the Depths #92”. I didn’t know at the time that I would be given the chance to give a review of the album. It unfolds organically, like a stop-motion dream that shifts between sleep and awaking.  Each piece seems to emerge from a landscape that’s both desolate and full of abundance. A place where streetlights have gone dark (what will the moths do?)  and only the hum of consciousness remains. 

After listening, it felt like I was landing on a distant planet, only to realize it’s the planet I’ve always lived on. I got a sense of a stage production, where the early tracks establish emotional landscapes. Pleistocene swells between clarity and confusion, creating a calming tension. lawetlat’la & Timber bring moments of peace,  like hearing a lonely piano in an airport terminal. While Awaken & premonition build a sense of unease, with subtle piano motifs keeping time as everything trembles toward transformation, like a mountain finding its own consciousness. With Cataclysm, the piano holds the rumble steady and tremors as if to say that “even destruction has a rhythm”.  The tracks feel telepathic, as if the artist is communicating directly through sound. They flow into one another with quiet intention, with an ongoing conversation between the artist and listener.  

In the final acts, Moonscape & Fireweed bring warmth and reflection. The use of vocal samples over ambient textures draws you closer to something deeply human. The closing pieces become gestures of gratitude, loss, and renewal. Return ends the journey, leaving us feeling weightless in a collection of memories that are immersive, emotional, and endlessly playable.