Send "Okkervil River " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Sputnikmusic. |
 In my short years devouring music, I don’t think there’s a record that’s spoken to me as directly as Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See has. To think that such a victory belongs to none other than Okkervil River, a band known for rockumentary ballads and abstract storytelling, a band who mystify those who they write about and mutate them into uneasy, masked figures, is preposterous. This is a band who never specifically look anyone in the eye unless they’re worth a rock ‘n’ roll damn, who end up translating Tim Hardin into nothing more than a horrible human feeling. That Will Sheff could ever have his stare focused as he does on Hardin for so long is understandable, but the stare is so rarely on us. Paste Magazine once went as far as to describe Will Sheff’s songwriting as “Kafka meets Mahler at the Hipster club,” and maybe they’re right: from Black Sheep Boy onwards, Will Sheff was deeply struck by writing about people- porn stars and musicians and their addictions- and their otherness. Will Sheff writes about the disturbing descent, and on Black Sheep Boy it feels very Kafkaesque indeed; Sheff’s subject matter is a different man by the time “A Glow” comes around, no longer just a loner folk musician seeking solitude, now a lust-filled and inhumane thing. It’s real and unreal, but it’s never quite about us, or to speak to the individual, you and me.But it’s on Don’t Fall In Love Sheff hits at you most perfectly. It is, without a theme, without a metaphor, the most unflinching record I’ve ever heard, looking at death with a weary shrug and fixing its eye on humanity as if waiting for that descent, “Westfall” depicting so directly how this record won’t draw back: “When I killed her it was so easy I wanted to kill her again.” You could pick any lyric out of a hat from Don’t Fall In Love and it would be as dismantling as that one, readily facing life as what we never speak of it being. Most importantly, it's about us even when it isn't: when "Red" chronicles the decayed life of a dancer, when "Westfall" kills off a character, the results are in our life. Even to look at that title is to have Sheff take you, and none other than you, completely apart: Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See. Nothing in Okkervil River’s catalogue has ever been said more forwardly than that comically tragic title, and even if this is for the bulk of its playtime a record more about heartbreak than it is murder, it feels utterly aware of its listener on every single moping storyline about lovers. On “Kansas City,” a truer than true folk homage, Sheff gives perhaps the most intimate lines of his career, howling a warning as deeply felt as the record title itself....full text |
| Allmusic |
| Marking the point when audiences started to warm up to Okkervil River's delicate yet explosive sound, Don't Fall in Love With Everyone You See foreshadows a band that would soon be capable of the fantastic follow-up Down the River of Golden Dreams, but here, they still sound a bit green. So what if Okkervil River wasn't quite up to snuff at this juncture? They soon would be, the songs hold merit, and aspirations of grandeur snake out and about, most notably in the horn-driven "Lady Liberty." But amidst all of the goodness, Will Sheff's vocals often detract from the listening. During the nine tracks of Don't Fall in Love With Everyone You See, Sheff sometimes seems too desperate to sing the songs with the naturalness they deserve, exuding false confidence in a manner that suggests his discomfort for writing himself out of his vocal range. Although most songs survive this disadvantage -- as in the building opener "Red," where the melody Sheff is aiming at (coupled with a lovely set of lyrics) balances the scale -- this is what keeps Don't Fall in Love With Everyone You See from obtaining the high quality Okkervil River later achieved....full text |
| Pitchfork |
| It was the worst day of my life. I get home from the plant and there's my woman: rolling around in my bed with my best pal, Big Whitey. And there's my mutt sitting on the floor, watching them go at it with his stupid dog-grin. I just can't get that image out of my mind. Man, I flew into a crazy rage, stormed out to my 81 Buick and tore dirt right out of that greazy hellhole. The only thing that helps this pain in my gut is the new album by Okkervil River. I don't know what you'd call their music-- alt-country or indie rock or avant-folk or some such crossbred super-genre. Calms the nerves, though. Sure, it's kind of a downer, but without hitting the gutbucket misery of real country. And Okkervil can also let fly, too: the best song on the album, "Lady Liberty," smokes like a raccoon in a chimney, with horns blasting behind singer Will Sheff as he moans about loving the wrong woman. "I can picture you inside some stranger's house/ Inside some stranger's bed/ You're trying to seem mysterious/ The covers pulled over your head." Ain't nothin' stings like the truth. Okkervil River sounds like a loose outfit; their self-released 1999 debut, Stars Too Small to Use was raw, shambling stuff, but with this new record they're starting to pull it together. The songwriting is impressively poignant, and the music is as tight and comforting as any old noose: under producer and engineer Brian Beattie's wing, the band has filled out and arranged these songs beautifully with every southern-flavored instrument you could dream up-- mandolin, pedal steel, fiddle, organ, and strings and horns. The record maintains a nice, lush air, but manages to stay somehow raucous simultaneously-- it's ponderous indie rock and country charm frequenting each other's local haunts. But while these guys may be rising stars, they're still looking for comfort and a little love, if the lyrics are any indication. Damned if "My Bad Days," for one, isn't as stark as they come: Sheff can sound like a man who's been beaten back to a lost little boy. "Dead Dog Song" is a mandolin-propelled tune with great, hokey lyrics ("He'd never been to church, so he doesn't have a soul"). And the guys even bring in Daniel Johnston to duet on "Happy Hearts," just coming straight out and pleading for what we're all after: "Unconditional love, why did you leave me?" Come on, guys, you're killing me....full text |
Okkervil River lyrics
