Change seems to be the only constant for Okkervil River. Each time the Texas collective visit Australia they’re packing something new; whether it be a new album, new band members, or a new attitude to songcraft. At the centre of such constant evolution is Will Sheff: singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and heart and soul of Okkervil River.
True to form, plenty has happened to Sheff and his bandmates since they last landed on local shores. There’s been the record with Roky Erikson, True Love Cast Out All Evil, on which Okkervil River served as a backing band for the iconic, psychedelic rocker. Sheff also got his hands dirty as a producer.
Then in May came I Am Very Far, the latest Okkervil album, which Sheff wrote during a sojourn to his native New Hampshire before once again taking on the production duties. It turned out to be slightly different record for the band; the experiences with Erikson influencing Okkervil River’s already rambunctious sound.
Sheff on the phone turns out to be something of a metaphor for Sheff the musician. He’s by turns flippant and conscientious, light-hearted then serious, but always an engaging subject. TheVine chatted to him about albums, 9/11, South by Southwest and the joys, or otherwise, of almost constantly being on the road.
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Where are you, Will?
I’m in Raleigh, North Carolina. I’m walking down the hallway of my hotel in a shirt and my towel, following a giant, almost freakishly tall human being – in a frighteningly, almost intense shade of purple t-shirt. And I hear-tell that he’s going bowling. I might lose my signal in this elevator. If I do, I apologise, but just call me back.
So you’re out there touring, right?
We are. We’re on day three of a short American tour.
Last I heard you were based in New York. Is that still the case?
Yeah, I’m in Brooklyn and the band lives in Austin, Texas. But we tour so much that we’re seeing each other constantly, so it almost starts to feel like we’re always [living] in the same place.
It must have been a pretty strange time in New York in the last couple of weeks approaching the ten-year anniversary of September 11.
Oh, whatever dude! I don’t give a shit about that, man. It wasn’t a strange time, I don’t think. Who cares? Ten years is a completely arbitrary number – maybe because we have five fingers and five toes we go, “Oh, the ten year anniversary.” Why wasn’t it sadder on the seventh year anniversary? It’s absolutely sad, but there are places where there’s a September 11 every fucking day and life is cheap, you know what I mean? But because we’re coddled fucking Americans it’s like, “Oh my god! Something bad happened to us!” It’s like, “Welcome to the rest of the fucking globe!” And in the end, it was all used as an excuse for the very worst type of human being to justify the very worst type of agenda. That’s just as shameful as what originally happened. I mean, it was awful. I remember September 11 incredibly clearly and it makes me deeply sad. But ten years – whatever – ten years is an arbitrary number. Who the fuck cares? It’s media bullshit.
So, the rest of the band –
I’m sorry.
No, that’s okay; I know a few people who share a similar sentiment. So the rest of the band: they’re based in Texas. Does the band still identify with Texas? Do you still think of yourselves as a Texan band?
Yeah. I mean, I still identify with Texas. I lived there for eight or nine years. I love Texas. I love Austin, Texas specifically. I don’t know – I guess you would still call us a Texas band. I’ve been in New York for three years but I’ve been peripatetic my whole life as a musician. It doesn’t really mean particularly that much that I’m in Brooklyn. We’re definitely a Texas band, to my mind. Would you mind holding on just a moment?
No dramas…
*Sheff talks to people in the background*
Are we waiting for somebody to come down?
Yeah.
Would you guys give me one second? I just want to go up and take my medication…
Sorry about that.
That’s okay. It’s now well over ten years on the clock for the band. Has the music scene in Texas changed much since you first started out?
No, I don’t think it’s changed that much. I think Austin has changed in a really sad way. Because Austin used to be a laidback and fun hippy town, and what happened was that there were a lot of good ol’ boy Texas guys who were running the scene in Austin the whole time. As Austin grew it became clear who was in charge, so in certain ways the really beautiful spirit of Austin got sold out a little bit.
And what about something like [music conference and festival] South by Southwest?
Well that’s cool to play, but I think it’s just lining the pockets of a very small number of people, who are benefiting from the Austin vibe. It’s cool, it’s great and it’s fun, and I’m happy for anybody who finds any success doing South by Southwest, but it’s also made Austin kind of intolerable, to be honest. I don’t really want to do it anymore, but then that’s just me (laughs). I’m sorry – I’m not a very negative person; I just feel negatively about certain things.
Talking about I Am Very Far: the album’s been out for a few months now and you’ve been taking it on the road. Are you still happy with the way it turned out?
Oh yeah. I’m really happy with it. Every now and then I go back to listen to it, just to confirm whether or not it’s doing what I hoped it would do, to me as a listener. But yeah, I feel really, really happy about it and really confident about it. I’m thrilled with how it came out – it was the record I wanted to make, I know that much.
You said at the start of the year that you didn’t want to do something crowd-pleasing and follow something you thought was really interesting. Can you put in words what you had in mind?
I just wanted to make something that gave me the tingly feeling that I get from my own favourite works by other people. A lot of that stuff doesn’t give up its secrets that easily. It’s a bit of a challenging listen and it’s a confrontational listen at times. I don’t know – it seems like right now is a very single-serve, fun-size time in popular culture where people want something that’s really easy and really relatable. And even indie bands have fallen into lockstep with that tradition. To me, that just seems boring and limited. I wanted to write something that felt more challenging and more difficult and more assaultive in a cerebral way – something that felt out of step with the times a little bit.
Did your album with Roky Erickson, True Love Cast Out All Evil — putting aside the fact that you produced both records — influence the way you approached the recordings at all?
I think just being around Roky was inspirational. He’s a very free guy and he’s willing to follow out a chain of an idea all the way. He’s really willing to not have an idea and be really free in his approach to such things. And to embrace a certain level of chaos that comes into the music, and it works. That’s my worst fear as a cerebral person – sometimes I think that’s really an incredible danger – but Roky makes it work and so I started to think that I could embrace that in my own work a bit more.
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