Feature Review: Okkervil River The Stage Names
Okkervil River The Stage Names (Jagjaguwar)
Like a knight clad in frail, antiquated armor but with precise and impeccable form, Okkervil River have proven on their latest release they have what it takes to awe a crowd that has come to expect so much from them. The Stage Names makes good on all forecasts calling for Will Sheff’s shaky, vulnerable vocals and sturdy indie folk songs with a eye for infection. They deliver a little something extra in the way of astutely woven cellos, mandolins, organs, and others giving the tracks a little thicker crunch. This, their fourth full-length for Jagjaguwar, is perfect for those who have outgrown emo but are still carrying around a messenger bag full of feeling and unanswered questions of meaning. The mix of earnest, acoustically sullen songs and occasional bursts of brightness makes it the perfect soundtrack to sulking mid-afternoon or dancing in front of the mirror using a comb as a makeshift mic (not that anybody does that). These Austin natives didn’t deviate much from the formula of previous album and indie cult favorite Black Sheep Boy. With a nigh unstoppable mold, why would they need to? They once again employed Brian Beattie as producer, who did the last three as well, and brought in Spoon drummer Jim Eno to mix the record.
One of the only noticeable differences is the lack the occasional cracking shout that seemed to be so painful to belt out that punctuated songs on early albums so sharply. Also, Sheff’s breathy whisper that accompanied some of his more delicately somber tracks is in short supply here. It’s featured in “Savannah Smiles,” however, which is a tender lullaby with instrumentation as airy as a wisp but with weighty lyrics about a father’s troubled relationship with his daughter that makes the listener feel like a voyeur in an intensely personal situation. It’s like watching someone you hardly know cry. The character in the story reads his daughters diary by accident, discovers some unsettling information, and then asks “Is she someone I don’t know at all? Is she someone I betrayed?” all while sounding on the verge of tears.
There’s a silver lining though, depending on how much of a Beach Boys fan you are. “John Allyn Smith Sails,” the final track and a tune about the suicide of American poet John Berryman, turns all of a sudden from softening folk rock into a cover of “Sloop John B.” Alright, so the beginning of the song is still pretty bleak with Sheff singing “From a bridge on Washington Avenue, the year of 1972 broke my bones and skull, and it was memorable.” But the song switches gears from sub-zero chiller to a sing-along almost seamlessly. “A Hand to Take Hold of the Scene” is constituted of an undying dance-off beat, a touch of a trumpet straight out of Tijuana and sporadic strings, and it’s one of those mirror songs. It’s a more lighthearted tune providing a brief respite between heavy-handed songs. “A Girl in Port” picks back up with Sheff’s seriousness and introspection. He uses a sailor’s life out on the sea as a metaphor for his own feelings toward life out on tour. He sings, “These several years out on the sea, made me empty, cold and clear, pour yourself into me” while piano and organ gently grace the background.
And then there’s the artwork. William Schaff, not to be confused with Will Sheff, creates a cover as enticing and raw as the music within. Schaff has made artworks for bands such as Okkervil River, Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Songs:Ohia. Many of his non-music related projects focus on inhumanity and particularly the Holocaust and acts of terrorism. These grim topics make him the perfect artist for an album that is similarly dismal. There’s something about drawn cover art instead of band photos or slick graphics always makes the album a little more human and passionate, and Okkervil River always delivers.
Okkervil River "Our Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe" (mp3)
Okkervil River Official
Okkervil River Myspace
