Okkervil River boast an impressive 14 former members, and a recent exodus of bandmates contributed to the tone of the band’s eighth album, which is dense, dishevelled and darkly comedic. It also, in part, commemorates the death of singer Will Sheff’s idol, his grandfather.
A fragmented, frustrated mindset has contributed to a sprawling, inconsistent album with brief flourishes of verdant beauty. Sandwiched between tracks brimming with the chaotic intensity of Arcade Fire are pastoral delicacies such as Call Yourself Renee, written under the influence of psilocybin mushrooms in the Catskills. That song has a glowing warmth compared to the barbed qualities of many of the others, in particular The Industry. “Do you remember, baby, back in ’96? When some record was enough to make you raise your fist? … Just let go,” Sheff sings exhaustedly, the sentiment intended for himself or a former friend; a former bandmate, or anyone listening.
