The end of the world has a way of changing one’s priorities. At least that’s what the Louisville-based Quiet Hollers would seem to suggest in their hauntingly beautiful track “Mont Blanc.”
Situated against the backdrop of a post-apocalyptic landscape, this gem of a song explores the permanence of love in a world where nothing else seems to matter. “I used to worry what clothes I had on,” the chorus begins. But when life gets reduced to mere survival, one loses the luxury of having such concerns. And when that happens, what’s left?
“Mont Blanc” is understated and searching. It’s measured and restrained. It doesn’t give us all the answers we may want, but at least it forces us to ask the questions. Who am I? What really matters? When all else is rendered futile, where will I find stability?
The likely reality is that all of us will sooner or later walk through a season during which our identity will need to be reshaped. The cataclysmic end-of-the-world scenario of “Mont Blanc” serves as a mirror in which to see our own personal crises — crises that will hopefully be less cataclysmic but certainly no less disorienting. And it prompts us to imagine what kind of people we’ll become. What will life look like after the “bomb” each of us will inevitably experience?
It’s precisely at this point that I hear whispers of the gospel. In exposing the emptiness of so many things that occupy the modern American mind, “Mont Blanc” virtually paves the way for that famous question of Jesus, “What does it profit you to gain the whole world and lose your soul?” Truth be told, our “manicured lawns” can’t save us. But all is not hopeless. The vanity of our world teaches us to yearn for another — a world full of purpose and meaning and permanence. And it’s in that world that we’ll find the fullness of what we were made for.
Listen to “Mont Blanc” below and check out the full lyrics here.