Note: Unfortunately, camera issues marred our pictures from the show, so these are stock photos instead. Apologies. – Ed.

Let me just put this on the table and then back it up with some facts: Shearwater are the best “new” (to the indie-mainstream) band in the world right now. Like Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga last year, Shearwater answered their newfound media attention with an album that completely surpassed all expectations, one that will probably go down in the books as the best album of the year (of course, I’m talking about Rook here). Jonathan Meiburg is perfect: he has a knack for weaving intricate and often delicate music into an ether of pure energy, cycling seamlessly from crystalline falsetto and string arrangements to caustic guitar tones and barbarian howls, holding the creative reigns of an extremely talented set of musicians and pushing the possibilities to the extremes; perfect.

To see Shearwater live, as I did once again this past week, is to see the amazing qualities of the band all Gestalt-ed into one grand performance. I was initially worried that, playing outdoor at the Mohawk, the performance would not live up to the one the band gave a couple months ago at The Parish, where they presented Rook in its entirety, hiring on a harpist and various string players to fill in the gaps left by the core members. Unfortunately, this largely proved to be true: the sound quality at the Mohawk wasn’t stellar (it seemed that the right channel was faltering mid-way through the show, and the e-piano was mixed insultingly high), and many of the intricacies of the past show that I was hoping to relive were lost somewhere in summer night.

With distorted highs and inaudible calms, the dynamic range of songs like “On The Death of The Waters” (i.e., most of Rook) was much less stunning, but still strong. On the upside, the band did play to perfection what is still one of my favorite Shearwater songs, “Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five”. Under the staccato of a pounding piano and the wail of a trumpet the band roared through the powerful track off Palo Santo, lighting up the entire stage, shitty sound-system and all. With few exceptions, the louder songs prevailed, though only because they were most likely to be properly heard, and the softer didn’t, only because they couldn’t quite compete with poor sound, the wail of sirens, and the rest of the intrusive city ambiance.

I’d never miss a chance to see Shearwater, and even in the worst situations (at least sound-wise) the band still easily impress, adapting to their environment and showing their flexibility in moving from studious composers to seasoned outdoor rockers. That being said, I’d prefer to see Shearwater in a venue more suited to highlight the band’s gorgeous intricacies. Alas, bad sound or no, Shearwater are damn near perfect.

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Rook is the record I’ve been listening to and enjoying, for a good while now. The album is the 5th from Shearwater, the band who I believe have finally shed their “Okkervil River Side Project” stigma. The band is headed up by Jonathan Meiburg (who I interviewed on Austin Sound earlier this week), who just left Okkervil River not too long ago, citing the increasing time commitments of Shearwater. Now, without a single mutual member, and with Shearwater’s hyped released of Rook, I think we can put to rest that side project description.

Having got that out of the way, we turn to the album. This song, “Rooks”, hints at a good number of the albums qualities: Thor Harris’ drums pull the song forward while Meiburg’s vocals take the form a delicate falsetto, though the lyrics are made all the more haunting by the octave. Rooks (which is a type of crow typically found in Europe - you’ll remember, Meiburg is a part-time ornithologist), followed by swallows and gulls, drop out of the skies and pile dead in fields and on roads, like an flock of albatrosses hanging around our collective neck. The lyrics are ambiguously distant, almost conceptual in their design, and hardly invite comparisons to Okkervil River’s Sheff who, with a background in creative writing, crafts lengthy stories based on well-developed characters. Nonetheless, unknown dangers haunt the lyrics (which are perhaps even more chilling than any of Sheff’s twisted story lines): “The ambulance men said there’s nowhere to flee for your lives, so we stayed inside / And we’ll sleep until the world of man is paralyzed.”

Shearwater will be performing Rook in its entirety tonight at The Parish, with the help of strings, brass, woodwinds, and the Austin Symphony’s own Elaine Barber (who I believe played on the album as well) on harp. It’s unfortunate that the album hasn’t come out yet though, because to hear it is to understand how essential all these extra parts are to the music. As Meiburg and I talked about, the instrumentation, especially the strings, on Rook is a core part of the songs rather than, as he called it, “window dressings.” Don’t miss this chance to hear Rook live in its intended form.

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