There’s a general rule about sequels: If the sequel was conceived along with the original tale, or draws from the same source of material, it’s got a good shot at being good—see the first Star Wars set, The Godfather Part II, the Lord Of The Rings trilogy, etc. If, however, the sequel is an exploitative afterthought, the intention of which is merely to further capitalize and rehash what people liked about the original, it will probably be bad, i.e., Michael Crichton’s The Lost World, the Back To The Future trilogy, a gabazillion other examples, etc.
Enter The Stand Ins, Texas indie-rock outfit Okkervil River’s follow-up to last year’s critically acclaimed The Stage Names. Originally conceptualized as a double-set, the two albums were split and The Stand Ins released as a “sequel”—ironic, considering “Plus Ones” on The Stage Names cleverly mocked pop culture’s propensity for worthless sequels. (“Not everyone’s keen on lighting candle 17,” frontman Will Sheff sang.) The cover of The Stand Ins even completes the picture partially presented by The Stage Names; place the second album directly below the first, and the hand arching above the water is now attached to a bottle-clutching skeleton. Creepy, sure, but poignant? Eh, whatev.
The Stage Names’ dramatically cinematic plotlines also get continuation here; the story of female eye-candy actress and narrator of “Savannah Smiles” continues on the groovy “Starry Stairs,” which vamps along to a jazzy, horn-fused thump. Other tracks seem to document the band’s own struggles with fame: “Lost Coastlines” rolls along to Jonathan Meiburg’s banjo pluck as he and Sheff duet about the difficulties of touring life and keeping a band together. Meiburg has since left to work full-time in Shearwater.
But, as with all Okkervil River albums, much of the draw comes from Sheff’s bitingly wry lyrical observations and, while The Stand Ins is more of the same, those idle-artist witticisms and criticisms never miss their targets, and a healthy dose of battered romanticism keeps it all from being too snide. Musically, it’s the same earnestly lo-fi aesthetic of The Stage Names: occasionally poppy (the unsubtly titled “Pop Lie,” a rollicking, synthesized number—with claps!), occasionally profound, occasionally powerful and climactic (Sheff’s achingly wrenching vocals hit the album’s peak early in the soaring “Blue Tulip”).
In terms of sequels, The Stand Ins succeeds for all the reasons The Stage Names did: The concept is consistent, with the same motivations and inspirations. However, The Stage Names felt largely like a stepping stone into something bigger, so, disappointingly, The Stand Ins only delays that progression. But it’s worth the wait.
