Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore got together some months ago — with the help of Yim Yames — to record Dear Companion, a project drawing attention to the dire consequences of mountaintop removal mining. In addition to letting us stream the record, which is out Feb. 16 on Sub Pop, Ben and Daniel have been kind enough to take over posting duties for the day.
Hello, friends and neighbors. And thank you Buzzgrinder, for having Ben and I as guest editors today, and for streaming our new record! Here’s a picture of us making it:

Going from left to right, we’ve got the father-figure himself, Yim Yames (who produced the record and, if I may say, is an all-around excellent role model for anybody who may be looking for one); then Justin Craig (the multi-instrumentalist from the band These United States who lent his extensive talents to play guitar, drums, banjo & electric organ); then the one and only Ben Sollee; and then me.
We were working on the song Wilson Creek here, which is named for the place (and creek) in Floyd County, Ky. When we visited some friends there around this same time last year, they were embroiled in a court battle to have the land declared unsuitable for strip mining. Their argument was that it was too precious and long-standing a home place, too sensitive an environment, and that the damage to the watershed and land and the round-the-clock blasting from the mining would make the surrounding area unlivable and the water unfit to drink.
I’m willing to venture and say they were right, and unfortunately, time will tell. A partial permit was granted, and much of those beautiful mountains will be detonated and much of that beautiful creek will be buried — like the nearly 1,000,000 acres to date already lost to mountaintop removal mining in central Appalachia.
To explain a little further, I’d like to quote a description written by the great Kentucky authors Silas House and Jason Howard for the liner notes of Dear Companion. Silas and Jason recently collaborated on a book called Something’s Rising. It’s filled with the plain-told stories of folks from across central Appalachia who are dealing with MTR day in and day out. Seek it out, please. It’s an important and beautiful work. Here’s their description:
MTR is a radical type of surface mining where an entire mountain is blown up, and often for a relatively thin seam of coal. The resulting “overburden” — topsoil, dirt, rocks, trees (almost never harvested for their timber so that the coal can be extracted as quickly as possible) — is then pushed into “valley fills,” massive earthen dam-like piles, burying the streams, forest and wildlife. Since 1985 more than 1,200 miles of streams have been impacted by this practice. And each year, the explosive equivalent of 58 Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs is detonated in the region.
MTR and its associated pollution hurt Appalachia in every way, poisoning the water, the land, the air and the people. Although supporters claim that it provides jobs, government and industry statistics prove that mining jobs have actually decreased since the advent of MTR, and the largest coal producing counties are among the most poverty-stricken in the nation.
The rate at which mountains are being leveled increases every day. Dissenters are simply asking for mining to be done with respect and responsibility, treating the place and its people with dignity. So far the coal companies have refused to listen to that request. Government officials refuse to require them to do so.
But a small, committed group of people are fighting back against mountaintop removal. They are speaking up in speeches, editorials, songs and books. They are speaking up in the halls of Congress and in little mountain churches. They are speaking up for all of us, because we all live downstream. When something happens to our neighbors, it happens to us.
We encourage you to find out more at ilovemountains.org
I also urge you to visit ilovemountains.org. It’s an amazing resource for finding out how we are connected to MTR — and what steps and actions we can take to help get rid of this practice.