SHEARWATER - The Golden Archipelago

Shearwater make epic music, but not in the sense that so many contemporaries do. These aren't the heart-swelling crescendoes of an Explosions In The Sky or the wide-screen cinema of a Sigur Ros—it is epic not so much in sound, but in concept and gravity. Ever since leaving Will Sheff's Okkervil River to focus full-time on Shearwater, Jonathan Meiburg has made it clear that this music requires one hell of a stern emotional commitment. Whether through a fragile croon or thunderous bellow, Meiburg sings with the confident, beguiling strength of a preacher. He declares and testifies. It is a stance that, when combined with the always tastefully and patiently presented arrangements of his band, threatens to bog things down in a samey soup of midtempo sombreness. But, Meiburg has a style about him that lets Shearwater carry the day, and quite successfully, too. He is a man out of time, both in his chronological placement (he is definitely a classy old soul), and also in his perpetual sense of desperation. It is this desperation that provides the necessary bite to elevate The Golden Archipelago from navel-gazing dramatics to truly affecting human music.

Complementing the occasionally uncomfortable nakedness of their singer's delivery is a band whose direct approach never lets a song overstay its welcome. For all of their emotional weight, they wisely sidestep grossly overdone climaxes or loud-quiet-loud post-rock pitfalls. Sophisticated and eloquent, Shearwater understand inherently that our most personal moments are often the most difficult and embarrassing to share with others. With its meticulous delicacy and unflappable seriousness—not to mention a 72-page "dossier" in some versions—The Golden Archipelago is that friend that tells you its darkest secrets first, so that you'll feel more comfortable doing the same yourself in return.