Though Black Sheep Boy had its upbeat moments, I don't think the first adjective anyone was reaching for in describing it was "poppy." Here, on the second track from that record's follow up, The Stage Names, even with a warm guitar strum and steady kick pedal hits pushing things as close to danceable as Will Sheff's likely to get, it still doesn't seem the right descriptor. It's just that the song-writer's wounded poetics, delivered as always in a cracked bleat that (sorry fans) can occasionally sound like Counting Crows' Adam Duritz, are always going to be the focus. Even as the backing track seems to command toe tapping, there's no missing that the words are a tribute to hedonism and self deception as the sole sources of satisfaction. "What gives this mess some grace unless it's kicks, man?/ Unless it's fiction..." as Sheff puts it. There's no denying that the man's got a way with words, but if Okkervil River is ever going to branch out from its depressed prophet mode, the music has to be just as sharp.