As the listener traverses the hills, mountains and valleys of Okkervil River’s albums, there are many treasures lying in wait. Some in plain sight, some hidden, others only to be discovered following repeated excursions. Navigating Down Down The Deep (Okkervil) River, to borrow a song title from their 2013 album The Silver Gymnasium, is an adventure, challenging, often surprising, largely rewarding. The listener hears the voices, the hopes and fears and maybe the psychosis of the artist; the meanings often obscure, sometimes hard to listen to.
Okkervil River is the project of Austin, Texas’s Will Sheff. Taking the band’s name from a short story by Tatyana Tolstaya, a distant relative of Leo Tolstoy, the band has, between 2002 and 2018, released nine albums. Tolstaya’s story reflected on the relationship between art and the artist, and this theme permeates Okkervil River’s records. Sheff has released two solo albums (2022’s Nothing Special and 2026’s Extra Mile), yet, despite using current Okkervil River personnel, decided not to release under the band’s name. The band’s lineup has changed many times, and this, along with a move from Jagjaguwar to ATO following the sixth album, broadly signals the different phases in the band’s development.
2002’s Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See launches Sheff’s musings with an album of raw gothic beauty. It includes the horror of Westfall, a track that Okkervil River stopped playing live as Sheff worried that the audience was too fixated on its murderous story, and the rather beautiful and hopeful Kansas City, a song rooted in the tribulations and travels of the early bluesmen. 2003’s Down The River Of Golden Dreams, a little more measured and with fewer rough edges, also had its gems. It Ends With A Fall and The War Criminal Rises and Speaks strongly argue the case for this record, yet in 2005, what many listeners may feel is Okkervil River’s magnum opus, Black Sheep Boy, was released. Again, some excellent, memorable tracks such as Black, ForReal, andA Stonemake this album an essential. These three albums appeared to define Okkervil River, yet, as would soon become clear, Sheff liked to ring the changes.
The Stage Names, released in 2007, was quickly followed in 2008 by The Stand Ins, described on the album cover as a full-length sequel. These two records wearily reflected the stresses and contradictions of the on-the-road life of a rock band and are a departure from the more folksy storytelling of the earlier works. The next album, 2011’s I Am Very Far, finds Sheff struggling to find a direction after the thematic clarity of the previous two records. This album is confusing, strident and sometimes harsh. It was the final one on Jagjaguar, and the move to ATO resulted in 2013’s The Silver Gymnasium. This was a more confident record and the most commercial to date, and maybe ATO banked on it being the breakthrough record. It certainly had some excellent moments, Down Down The Deep River, It Was My Season, and All The Time Everyday being notable examples. Then, in typical Sheff fashion, he rang the changes with 2016’s Away, artistically perhaps their finest. 2018’s In The Rainbow Room is the latest album released as an Okkervil River record, and whilst it is certainly a credible effort, it probably isn’t enough ‘Okkervil River’ to compare with the best.
There is a lot to take into account here, and the binary choice implied by this feature is not an easy one. Simply, there are quite a few golden geese and not a turkey in sight. All have merit, so it’s a question of arranging the perhaps metaphorical pile of CDs in order, first to be played at the top and last to be played at the bottom. Other Okkervil River aficionados will undoubtedly disagree on this order, yet if nothing else, will be prompted to go back and enjoy giving them another listen.
Can’t Live With It: The Stand Ins (2008)
This record followed quickly from the previous year’s The Stage Names. It continued to address Sheff’s observations about the music business and life on the road, and certainly has some highlights, songs which lyrically and musically draw you to repeated listening. The album is introspective, hardly headline news when thinking about an Okkervil River record, yet is the material strong enough compared with other offerings? The previous record gave us gems such as A Girl In Port, Unless It’s Kicks, and the opener Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe, and this one really does not live up to that promise. Starry Stairs is an intriguing and hypnotic song, yet a version of this appeared on The Stage Names, so it’s not clear why we need it again.
There are some notable highlights. Pop Lie has a strong opening guitar riff and a bass line which pops and pumps the song forward. It’s buoyant and poppy and delightfully ironic as Sheff brutally accuses the singer of lying to the audience whilst sympathising with the devoted fan, “This is respectfully dedicated/To the women who concentrated/All her love to find/That she’d wasted it on the liar who lied in his song”. On Tour With Zykos chugs along, an intoxicating melody along with Sheff’s measured, poetic delivery. Calling and Not Calling My Ex showcases Sheff’s talent for frothy pop with a serving of bitter angst.
There are other elements which make this a less enticing album. The bass playing is very accomplished yet sometimes feels a little overpowering, particularly on the track Lost Coastlines. Furthermore, this track has a stagey, boaty, operetta feel, and in tandem with its sing-along finale it makes this Okkervil River devotee reach for the skip button. That this track is a live favourite suggests that the view expressed here will split opinion. Another bugbear is the three short orchestral interludes, which whilst quite charming and atmospheric, don’t really add enough to justify inclusion.
It may be that this album is just more of a slow burn and this listener needs more time to fully appreciate its nuances. Disconcertingly, the more I listened in order to find reasons to justify my selection, the more I started to question my choice. It is worth coming back to this one, particularly as an addendum to its more accomplished predecessor, yet other Okkervil River records are stronger, and so at present this one is propping up the metaphorical pile.
Can’t Live Without It: Away (2016)
The opening track Okkervil River, R.I.P., stylistically takes us back to the Black Sheep Boy album. Sheff’s plaintive voice draws us gently forward with minimal support from an acoustic guitar. The evocative images tantalise our comprehension and set the scene for what’s to follow: the uncertainty of whether Okkervil River still exist, or is Sheff just taking stock, asking questions about his direction, that of the band, and life generally.
Okkervil River has always been more of a construct than an actual band. Live, they always appeared as a cohesive unit, yet the many lineup changes indicate that Sheff is not one to stay still and play it safe. Away has been described by Pitchfork as “the first Okkervil River album without Okkervil River on it”, and for this project, Sheff hand-picked a group of session players and recorded the album over a few days in New York. The result is an Okkervil River album that, with a more flexible supporting cast, allows Sheff to return to what Okkervil River is all about: a vehicle for Will Sheff’s unconstrained artistic expression. He appears freer here, and it results in a more coherent album.
There is some beautiful orchestration, provided by composer Nathan Thatcher. This feels integrated and supportive of the songs in a way not evident on The Stand Ins. Call Yourself Renee opens with this orchestration before Sheff’s volley of words envelops us. He is trying to move forward, yet the tangle of words comes thick and fast. “Don’t look back until you realise you’re pointedly not trying to look back” immediately suggests uncertainty, the song continuing with a litany of suggestions of what to do and what to think. Some jazz-infused instrumentation supports the lyrical confusion. The Industry lyric “I had to let it go” reminds of Lennon’s Watching the Wheels. Sheff’s deep frustration with the music industry is forcefully expressed as he tells us he’s had enough. It’s difficult to pick a focal point for the album, yet perhaps Judey On A Street, which is seven minutes of pent-up energy, is a contender. The drums and bass tick away as the singer waits and anticipates. The excitement builds; the monotone melody suggests movement to somewhere else.
The album has a flow about it which makes it an easy listen. She Would Look For Me sees Sheff channelling his inner Robert Plant. Frontman In Heaven is classic Okkervil River with a tangle of stream-of-consciousness lyrics and Sheff’s simple vocal melodic runs and strong hooks. This is a strong contender for an alternative American Pie; it’s copious, impenetrable lyrics, which bombard us for seven minutes, seemingly containing the answers to, well, who knows what, but we’d all have fun trying to figure it out. The album closes with Days Spent Floating (In The Halfbetween), which further explores the theme of transition in life and death and has a floaty, ethereal feel.
This album has all the most appealing elements of Okkervil River. Sheff inhabits his records, as if hard-wiring his thoughts, fears, hopes, and dreams into the desk before hitting record. The result is raw and disconcerting yet always real and often uplifting. The listener never knows what is coming next and should never be surprised by the twists and turns that Sheff conjures up. The early albums have an innocence and charm which were somewhat lost on the later, more highly produced records. This album succeeds in recapturing this charm, and the result feels more rounded and more mature. As stated earlier, Okkervil River have not made a bad album yet; if we need to have a top and bottom of the pile, this is it. Ranking the other seven between these two albums is a task for another day, and good luck to anyone who attempts it.
Related