It's easy to get swept away by the raw musicality on A Calm That Shifts, the debut album from Brooklyn singer-songwriter Stephen Becker. The Brooklyn singer-songwriter's psychedelic pop songs are hairpin turn after hairpin turn in their song structure, style and emotional impact.
Becker's skill as a musician is breathtaking - he plays nearly every instrument on the record - and is a testament to an impressive jazz pedigree and an appreciation for the technical prowess of progressive 2000s indie rock entities like Dirty Projectors, St. Vincent and Grizzly Bear. It's hard to resist replaying each of these tracks to discover a musical line only when it was almost over: a sinuous guitar and synth counterpoint, a pivot between a fractured groove and a rhythmic malfunction, or a beautiful chord modulation reminiscent of Brian Wilson.
The record, recorded over the course of three years with childhood friend and producer Adam Hirsch, is about, among other things, the breakdown of communication between family members, the NYC-specific illusion of a better life upstate, a documentary about Elvis' later years, and Werner Herzog's essays on film theory. But the central theme - expressed most clearly in "Unspoken" - is perhaps the childhood memories of teachers and other adults telling him to speak up, and how the concept of silence affects his life as a nearly thirty-year-old.
There's a subtle affinity between Becker's musical language and his libretto on A Calm That Shifts that makes the album seem more than the sum of its parts and a disarmingly serious statement. The ebb and flow between extroversion and restraint in the music is reminiscent of Becker's working model for a life well lived: trying to maintain inner peace and honestly represent oneself while resisting the myriad factors in the modern world that threaten to upset that balance.