If I have a qualm with Rook, it’s that it’s too short. Too short? Even to me that looks strange. Although they’re pandering to my limited Noughties attention span, there are moments on Rook where Shearwater have castrated their own ideas and underdeveloped some beautiful passages of music. That brevity is my only fault with the album, though, speaks volumes for what is contained within the 38 minutes of music. Rook is not bloated or fatted; it’s concise, restrained but abundant in emotion and ambience.
Shearwater is Jonathan Weiburg’ baby. A member of Texan folk outfit Okkervil River, Rook is an expression of Weiburg’ vast musical palette. Much like Will Sheff in his other band, Weiburg knows how to let vocals carry a tune. His bold voice, which ebbs from a stirring baritone to a vulnerable falsetto, is almost operatic in its tone and delivery. Weiburg is surprisingly versatile, and moulds his voice like a singing chameleon to adapt to the music that he’ written. It’s a good thing, too, because Rook is a multifaceted listen. He opens up on the raucous “Century Eyes’ but withdraws into himself in the orchestral “Leviathan, Bound’, a song awash in strings, anchored by the ubiquitous piano and ornamented by droplets of glockenspiel.
In an almost oxymoronic move, Shearwater has included an incredible array of instruments to layer upon the skeletons of their songs. For a band seemingly intent on not letting their music wander for too long, it’s no surprise they’ve build upwards rather than outwards. It’s credit to them then that the music never becomes overbearing. The strings, brass and multitude of instruments ornament the songs beautifully, heightening drama when it’s called for, accenting melody rather than taking away for it. But even when Shearwater try their hand at longer songs, like the progressive “Home Life’ or melancholic “I Was a Cloud’, you don’ notice that the music has crept past the five minute mark – or seven, as is the case with “Home Life’. It’s a shame they didn’ extend the ideas that infiltrate “On the Death of the Waters’ or “Lost Boys’, two songs over before they’ve even began. I’m sure they could have blossomed into grandiose masterpieces.
With an immaculate attention to detail, Rook is one of those albums that will undoubtedly unveil itself completely slowly over repeated listens.
Dom Alessio
