Certain Birds

I first saw Shear­water open for The Moun­tain Goats in 2004. Darnielle was on tour for The Sunset Tree, and Shear­water was sup­porting the release of their ep Thieves. I had never heard Shear­water before, and their per­for­mance left a lasting impres­sion. Ear­lier that evening, I had read about the redis­covery of a long-extinct bird, the Cozumel Thrasher, a bit of eso­terica that my young under­grad­uate mind stored away and quickly pop­u­lated with winged imag­in­ings. To my sur­prise, lead singer Jonathan Meiburg spent the better part of the evening talking up this finding — appar­ently, he’s huge into birds. The com­bi­na­tion (bird talk and socks being rocked) spurred not only an interest in the band, but in pur­suing a bachelor’s in ornithology.

Since then I’ve been a big fan of Shear­water. I still prefer the orig­inal Misra release of Palo Santo over its reworked Matador cousin, which I think makes me a pretty big fan. I guess I’m not a big enough fan though, since I missed out on the rar­i­ties they had over at Kick­starter. I’ve rec­ti­fied this by pre-ordering their upcoming release, The Golden Archipelago.

I’ve been lis­tening to The Golden Arch­i­pelago for the past month (sorry fellos and fellas, I couldn’t wait until Feb­ruary 23^rd); it’s def­i­nitely the most pro­duced Shear­water album to date, and prob­ably the most epic. Of course, this doesn’t say much of the music; com­par­isons have been made to Talk Talk and Pink Floyd, both “influ­ences” seem­ingly lost on what Shear­water actu­ally pro­duces. Despite metic­u­lous com­po­si­tions, orches­tral arrange­ments, carefully-planned and the­ma­tized albums, their music never sounds bela­bored or over­wrought. I think Meiburg and co. epit­o­mize the struggle/tension I feel in my own studies between earnest and self-deferential art. I’ve always felt that, depending on which you embrace, you’re bound to be ridiculed for the moments when your work slips towards the other side. It’s a fine line, and a line that Meiburg walks when­ever he sings; he has a voice that always sounds like it’s about to break, fall silent, or simply dis­ap­pear. For the majesty of each sweeping piece, it’s a voice that can be (to invoke that fine line again) truly breath­taking, or com­pletely hum­bling. Strung together with Kim Burke and Thor Harris, it’s remark­able how they seem to be at once thun­derous and quiet (with a heavy-hitter like Thor on skins, you damn well better be strad­dling that divide), expan­sive and minute, as if pitching the entire sym­phony from the pit into a leaky base­ment and still expecting stage cues.

I’ve read that Meiburg planned The Golden Arch­i­pelago as the last record in a trilogy begin­ning with the remas­tered ver­sion of Palo Santo and fol­lowed with Rook. In the spirit of that trip­tych (although breaking from the spirit of the “indi­vis­ible” album), here’s a song from each panel:

Shear­water — “Sev­enty Four, Seventy-Five” (from Palo Santo)

Shear­water — “Leviathan Bound” (from Rook)

Shear­water — “Cor­ri­dors” (from The Golden Archipelago)

You can still pre-order the album at Matador Records; CD pre-orders come with a 50-page booklet of images, photos, and ephemera Meiburg has col­lected over the past few years, while the LP comes with a down­load link to the unabridged “Golden Dossier” in pdf and a few bonus tracks. For a lim­ited time, the band took orders for the com­plete dossier in a nice, sealed enve­lope. You and I both missed out on that. How­ever, Meiburg recently posted info on a lec­ture he’ll be giving on April 24^th to the Texas Ornitho­log­ical Society in Austin, and you’ll bet I’ll be there. The lec­ture is enti­tled “The Caracaras: Dis­tri­b­u­tion and Ecology of the ‘False’ Fal­cons,” and I’m inclined to believe there will be good snacks.

Photo cour­tesy of Cas­sandra and Keith at itsundertherotunda.blogspot.com.