Declaring independence

Shearwater
Rook
Matador

Seven years ago, Jonathan Meiburg and Will Sheff teamed up to create Shearwater's debut album, The Dissolving Room. It wasn't very good - Meiburg seemed incapable of stringing together a decent melody, opting instead to warble aimlessly, and Sheff seemed to devote only his most maudlin material to the project - even as Okkervil River cranked out their brilliant early releases. Only their third album, the sprawling Winged Life, felt like an evenhanded collaboration between the two, with Meiburg gaining confidence with sterling, lyrical tracks like "The World in 1984" and surreal banjo workout "Whipping Boy." Then, as the Sheff-led Okkervil River grew in stature with their breakthrough fourth album Black Sheep Boy, Sheff left Shearwater, leaving Meiburg to steer Shearwater's follow-up without him, even as Meiburg remained in Sheff's more popular group (providing a distinctive caterwaul on tracks like "All the Latest Toughs" and The Stage Names' closer "John Allyn Smith Sails.")

The resultant record, Palo Santo, turned out to be a mild sleeper hit, eventually earning a profile-boosting partial re-release (and partial remaster) courtesy of new label Matador. The record boasted a markedly more jagged sound than Meiburg's past work, juxtaposing his crystalline tenor with blasts of feedback and spare orchestral flourishes. The songs themselves brimmed with equal parts menace and tenderness. Recently, and likely to no one's surprise, Meiburg announced his departure from Okkervil River, citing the impossibility of properly promoting his own work while playing in both bands.

With Rook, Meiburg, along with bandmates Thor Harris and Kimberly Burke, assert their complete independence not only from the work of their associates but from the greater paradigms of indie rock. Instead of constructing a world and working within its borders, Rook feels palpably engaged with the one we actually inhabit - likely stemming from Meiburg's background as an ornithologist and nature enthusiast. On "Rooks," Meiburg tells of nature's revenge on human aggressors ("the ambulance man said there's nowhere to flee for your life / so we stay inside and sleep until the world of man is paralyzed") and by song's end has made his allegiance known - "let the kingdom come tonight / let this dream be realized."

With "Rooks" as the centerpiece of a swift opening trio (including startling opener "On the Death of the Waters," which uses piercing horns to announce the album's arrival much as Elbow did on Seldom Seen Kid opener "Starlings"), "Home Life" finally allows for a some breathing room, peppering its seven minutes with lively percussion, gamelan, oboe, and a soaring string arrangement, and Meiburg's vocals at their most ornate. Unlike many lushly orchestrated records, Rook never feels compressed or overstuffed, and never lets any one element overwhelm all others. Meiburg is also careful not to overstuff the record with maudlin material, carefully sequencing left-turns like terse rocker "Century Eyes" and screeching instrumental "South Col." By the time Rook runs out its brief 39-minute runtime with blissful closer "The Hunter's Star," we're left wondering if Sheff will fare as well without Meiburg. The Stage Names was among the best records of last year, and now Rook stands at least as tall in this one.