The long-awaited new solo record from Jeremy Enigk (former leader of Sunny Day Real Estate) was released last week to shockingly little fanfare. World Waits is the first new music from Enigk in several years, and his first solo record in a full decade. Considering that he is one of the most fascinating (and best) artists of our generation, you’d think that would inspire a bit more excitement.
I first mentioned it back in August, when I had only heard two songs. At the time I said “if the rest of the album stacks up, it’ll be one of the year’s best.” So now, after living with the whole thing for a week, does it live up to my hopes? In almost every way, yes. It doesn’t stack up to Diary, but a strong case could be made for this as my second favorite Enigk record, which is saying quite a lot.
It kicks off with the short but rousing instrumental aptly titled “A New Beginning,” which segues into what might be the best song Enigk has yet recorded. Been Here Before is divided into two halves. The first, containing the first two verses and chorus, is quiet and introspective building a close, almost intimate, connection. Around the 2:00 mark, an organ descends like a curtain during intermission, but when it is lifted the lonely Enigk holding out his arms has been replaced by the full band pounding at the walls like an elemental force. Anyone familiar with Engik’s other work (with Sunny Day Real Estate, the Fire Theft, or on Return of the Frog Queen) should not be suprised as this dynamic. The contrast between loud and soft, between the particular and the universal, is a mainstay for him. That said, I’m not sure any other song so perfectly captures the mutually supportive tension in these dichotomies.
No other song on the album approaches this peak, but many others are strong in their own ways. “River to Sea” does not have the peaks and valleys, but maintains an introspective feel as he ruminates on the importance self-forgiveness. Even better, Cannons is the song you would get if you could run Coldplay through a centrifuge to distill only the best aspects, and then let Enigk create a song from the result. It’s melodic, almost anthemic, but never overreaches. Here, laying it all on the table is a sign of emotional maturity – a world weariness that refuses to let him give in. It also serves as a reminder of those heady Diary-infused days when the prospect of an emo-revolution was unassailably hip. In short, it’s a reminder that emo wasn’t always the territory of adolescent snottiness.
Apart from “Cannons,” the middle of the record contains some of its weakest songs. “City Tonight” and “Damien Dreams,” for example, are both serviceable but not particularly inspiring. Moreover, both strike me as the kind of song that might have worked better with the voice Enigk had in the mid-90s, but fail to do justice to the more cracked vocal chords he now possesses.
However, my description of his voice as “cracked” is not meant to be pejorative. It closes off certain areas, but opens a whole new set. This is most evident on the title track. World Waits is loose and quiet, and lets Enigk’s far more mature voice slowly unravel the “moment away beyond…your heartache.” This is a solo song in the very best sense – a solitary voice calling out to the whole world. This is clarified on the album closer “Burn,” which attempts to strip away all the unnecessary complexities we develop to mediate our relationships. Such obfuscation may be entirely natural, he suggests, but perhaps it does not have to be so. Instead, we should strive to let the most basic and personal values of kindness and care need to be re-inserted into our global politics. As Enigk himself has described this record, it is his “love song to the world.”
You can hear more (including a couple live versions of songs from this record and an interesting interview) on AOL’s The Interface. And, if you aren’t familiar with Enigk’s earlier work (or if you just want a good read), make sure to check out The World of Jeremy Enigk, a fantastic Post For Kids Who Can’t Read Good by Taylor and Chad.