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| Adequacy |
 Sometimes, a change of scenery can make all the difference. Usually, it takes that shock of alteration, that feeling of being a fish out of water, to trigger something. Well, what happens when it’s a return to your old stomping grounds? For Bill Callahan — someone who has prided himself on delivering music at its most sincere level-moving and recording music back in Texas was just the trick. Whether it’s those big, sweeping productions or just the fact that these same strings are being used to pull at your very own heartstrings, Callahan has delivered one of his best albums to date.For one, his voice sounds richly developed. Sure, the genuine and all-his-own speaking delivery is still intact but when he actually lets loose and sings, it’s something glorious. On the album’s sweeping, tender closer, “Faith/Void,” Callahan is at his weakest state, questioning the very same beliefs he has followed for so long. With a thumping organ and rousing orchestra, Callahan then allows for the guitar to push through. The result is a fierce piece of music that is utterly excellent....full text |
| Avclub |
| In 2007, Woke On A Whaleheart not only signified the emergence of Bill Callahan from the hazy alias Smog, it was a sea change in spirit. The collection was stylistically scattershot—the first to feature music completely arranged by a second party, Neil Hagerty—and lyrically upbeat, a quality which theretofore wouldn’t have come within spittin’ distance of Callahan’s wry wit. In that sense, Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle is a return to form, finding its maker focused and deadly over a lush set of string-laden alt-country pop. His target is love, mostly—a breakup—as evidenced by the single “Eid Ma Clack Shaw,” where over French horn, piano, and strings, Callahan’s baritone raises from a quaver to the flat declaration, “All these fine memories are fuckin’ me down.” Rather than taking cheap shots at the one who scorned him, Callahan spins metaphoric yarns about horses, lions, birds, and winds that slowly rot romance from its core. This happens all the way up to the second-to-last song—the disorienting instrumental “Invocation Of Ratiocination,” Eagle’s lone anomaly—and with the album-closer “Faith/Void,” Callahan whittles down another abstract comfort, repeating ad infinitum over nearly 10 minutes of gorgeous country road, “It’s time to put God away.” To paraphrase the first song, “Jim Cain,” Callahan used to be darker, then he got lighter, and now he’s dark again. What makes Eagle so strong is that the music stayed light, and those bucolic splashes of washed-out color contrast so well against Bill Callahan’s blues. ...full text |
| Thephoenix |
| In the first moments of "Jim Cain," Bill Callahan gives a concise description of his work: "I used to be darker," he sings, "then I got lighter, then I got dark again." It's welcome news for fans who fell in love with Callahan's mellifluous monotone during his tenure as Smog. This second release under his given name is a return to partly cloudy themes after a brief experiment with happiness that fit him like a second-hand suit. The gentle, galloping "Eid Ma Clack Shaw" disguises the deeply wounded heart behind sumptuous strings and subtle horns. Middle Eastern accents color "The Wind and the Dove," which is anchored only by Callahan's beautiful, leaden baritone....full text |
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