14. Away / Okkervil River

Will Sheff's songwriting is some fierce prose.  On 2005's phenomenal Black Sheep Boy, he moved in and out of anger and despondency, as if he had just arrived from driving all night from El Paso.  The music reflected this southwestern trek, replete with border trumpets and picked-over strings, and the songs hung together like strange fairy tales hatched in a desert field or poured in the back of a lonely cantina.

Less ragged and spare than its melancholy predecessor, 2007's The Stage Names was full-bodied roots rock, wildly alive, brooding, and majestic.  Since then, the Austin outfit's records have been a little uneven, but never lacking in Sheff's literate ambitions.  2016's Away is Okkervil River's best record in years, and it just may be the prettiest collection of songs among the band's roughhewn poetry.

As he approaches 40, Sheff grapples with dreams and regrets against a backdrop of strings, horns, and percussion, with his band's unrequited Americana pushing through with off-kilter melodies.  Sheff's relationships are observed with wry judgment, but he leaves most of the skewering to his own doubts and inadequacies.  Indeed, there is something hopeful in his confessions here.  The music courses with wide-eyed empathy: we will get through this and the lessons will propel us forward, somehow.

The clever video for "Okkervil River R.I.P." was directed by Sheff and displays many of the band's best attributes: humor, pathos, and Spirit combined into beautifully sad sendoffs.  Other standouts on Away include the string-riddled lightness of "Call Yourself Renee," the bouncy keyboard rock of "The Industry," the shuffling affirmation of "Judey on a Street," and the rainy-night vibes of "Comes Indiana Through the Smoke."