Genre: American indie rock
Places I remember: JB HiFi (Palmerston North)
Fab, and all the other pimply hyperboles: Rooks
Gear costume: Snow Leopard
Active compensatory factors: Before buying it, I hummed and harred over this CD for ages. It was in the bargain bin section right at the back of JB HiFi.
Whenever I visited my youngest daughter in Palmerston North, I'd inevitably consider the CD as a purchase.
I eventually took a punt on it for three reasons - the cover, which is amazing, looked like they were a mysterious prog band and the label, Matador, sounded like an exotic prog label. Third - the price: it had the potential to be a bargain.
I often find myself emotionally bound to record labels and will track down bands purely based on the fact that they recorded for a specific label: Apple; Mandrill; Grunt; Nemperor. Matador sounded cool so...
In this mistaken way, believing it was a progtastic band, I fell in love with the album before I heard a note.
The sound that greeted me was hard to categorise - part prog, yes, but Radiohead/Bon Iver style indie pop/rock at times, folk and psychedelia, with aspects that I ordinarily wouldn't particularly go for - falsetto vocals, jarring sections, bleak lyrics and dissonance mixed with things I most definitely do go for - warped arrangements, tunes, wondrous vocals, interesting lyrics and vision.
This is intelligent song writing, although I have no idea what he's on about at times, the feel is obvious.
Take this from On the Death of the Waters -
the moon rises
the moon sags
over the rolling waves
and your hands on the balcony
as a spine
pricks the world
and the shudder, deep, is unheard
and, seemingly, in Leviathan, Bound -
The silver shoals
of the light in the deep
brush the glittering skein
where the great, dark body writhes
and the trembling jaw
the unfathoming sounds
of leviathan, bound
as his heart, though weakening
still is racing
still is racing, alone
Thinking about it, comparing yourself to a monster from the sea is hugely effective, but on the surface it's not the sort of thing found in your average pop song, is it?
It's not all bleak, although even in moments of optimism there is a rider:
From one of my favourite tracks, The Snow Leopard:
Well, I’ve had enough,
wasting my body, my life
I’ll come away, come away from the shallows
But can this sullen child,
as bound as the ox that I ride,
climb to the heart of the white wind,
singing, high,
and blow
through my frozen eyes?
I'd like to say, Yes - you can!!
As for the music - it's thoughtful, well constructed and well considered music that sometimes could come across to some as cold, but that's the idea surely, accompanying lyrics that are pretty desperate at times (Rooks is not a pretty picture of the psyche under examination).
All up, the enigmatic quality on offer in these songs just makes me want to delve again and again into Shearwater.
Where do they all belong? Like Radiohead - Shearwater repays the effort.
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