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Shearwater "Seventy Four Seventy Five"

Wednesday, August 9, 2006

Prior to the new record, I’d always written off Shearwater as a Will Sheff side project, which may or may not have been true, I’ve never really done the research. But for me, even a band’s connection with Sheff is like an ankle’s connection with a chandelier (and believe me I know I’m in the minority here). Sheff is pretty much everything I don’t like about the new breed of male indie singer/songwriters—that bookish, damaged, arty man-boy thing he does, he does well I guess, but if I were to speculate, it would be the absolute last thing I’d ever want to hear when I’m listening to music for enjoyment. So I never gave Shearwater a chance because of that (and also because I’m often preoccupied and close-minded). So when I finally listened to Palo Santo the other day while driving the highway north to Indianapolis, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Jonathan Meiberg has taken over sole songwriting duties, and that he possesses a remarkable talent for songcraft and an even more refreshing appreciation for presentation.

Seventy Four Seventy Five” (mp3) is one of the most uniquely mature and nakedly heartfelt songs I’ve heard yet this year, a meditation on aging and acceptance driven by an elegantly pounding piano, stabbing, stately brass and a sense of barely restrained drama all too rare in rock these days, or ever I guess. The tired-ass Jeff Buckley comparison might work elsewhere on the record, but not here. No, here we get an altogether different type of opera—the regal growl of Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson, issuing proclamations while still allowing his austere accompaniment to swing a little. Then, after the fanfare dies down, almost at the end of the song, there’s a moment that occasionally happens in opera or the more dramatic musicals but seldom in pop songs—the spotlight closes on Meiberg and exposes his unconscious, or what passes for private, revealing the song, and its singer, as much more than the thunder it seems to be.

Buy Palo Santo from Misra here. Shearwater’s website is here.

IN ANOTHER LAND: Status Ain’t Hood puts into words my exact thoughts about DFA1979 for the entire time they put out records and still to this day:

A huge part of the band’s persona is that they were huge fucking assholes, and that’s always been the case. A friend who booked a few of their earliest shows tells me that they were assholes even when twelve people were coming to their shows…So if you’re a total dick, and you’re in a band with another total dick, and the two of you are the only people in the band, you probably won’t want to be in that band for long; you’ll want to get involved in some other band where you can go be a total dick in peace.

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