Named after a lyric from "The Trapeze Swinger," Around the Well collects two discs' worth of B-sides, rarities, soundtrack inclusions, and discarded tracks from the Iron & Wine catalog. Such compilations can be tricky to assemble, but Around the Well is both comprehensive and conveniently presented, with each disc representing the two amorphous halves of Iron & Wine's career. Disc one is limited to the group's early days, featuring the soft bedroom whispers, homespun acoustics, and resolutely lo-fi production that fueled Sam Beam's home recording sessions. Material from those same sessions would later pepper the set list of The Creek Drank the Cradle, but Around the Well pays attention to the songs that were cut from the album, offering several gems amidst a constant dream of pleasing, stay-in-bed songcraft. Meanwhile, the second disc highlights Iron & Wine's shift from intimate solo project to collaborative indie folk affair, beginning with the Our Endless Numbered Days sessions and culminating in the pastoral psychedelia of The Shepherd's Dog. Some of these selections are already familiar to Iron & Wine's most fervent fans, including Beam's cover of "Such Great Heights" (heard on the Garden State soundtrack, as well as an oddly kaleidoscopic M&Ms commercial) and the gorgeous concert staple "The Trapeze Swinger." Nevertheless, the compilation does offer some surprising inclusions -- just listen to the piano-fueled barroom strut of "Kingdom of the Animals," or the vaguely Middle Eastern experimentation of "Arms of a Thief" -- and Around the Well serves as a helpful reminder that a discarded Iron & Wine song is still better than many fine-tuned cuts from similar bands. ~ Andrew Leahey, All Music Guide
Iron & Wine have shown an impressive work ethic since the release of The Creek Drank the Cradle in 2002. A flood of singles, EPs, and albums, each with high levels of quality, have made Iron & Wine and Sam Beam stars in the indie rock world. Introspective, leaning toward morose, and heavily bearded stars, but glittering just the same. 2007's The Shepherd's Dog goes a long way toward validating all the attention I&W have been getting; it's their best, most diverse, and most listenable record yet, as Beam and co. take another leap away from the lo-fi, one-dude-in-a-bedroom beginnings of the group. Here Beam surrounds himself with a large cast of musicians, and they blanket the songs with a wide array of instrumentation, everything from accordions to Hammond organ, piano to backward guitars, vibraphone to bass harmonica. Nothing too strange in the everything-goes world of indie rock circa 2007, but for Iron & Wine, it's a widescreen revelation. Perhaps working with Calexico on 2005's In the Reins inspired Beam to use all the colors in the paint box. Maybe it's a natural progression. Either way it leads to an inspiringly lush album, full of imaginative and rich arrangements. Not to say Beam has cast aside the vital elements that made the band so interesting to begin with; his whispered vocals still conjure shadowy mystery, the songs are still melancholy as hell at their core, and as always there's a lingering sense of Southern gothic foreboding shrouding the proceedings. The increased production values take these elements and goose them. The recognizably I&W songs like the dark and creepy "Peace Beneath the City" or the gloomy country ballad "Resurrection Fern" sound bigger and have a different kind of impact. Take "Boy with a Coin," which in the past would have been spare, spooky, and a bit insular, but now is huge and spooky thanks to the propulsive handclaps and atmospheric backward guitars that would make Daniel Lanois jealous. Along with these pumped-up variations on the band's classic sound, there are songs you'd never imagine hearing on an Iron & Wine album. The danceable (!) "House by the Sea" has jumpy Afro-pop underpinnings and a bit of wild abandon in Beam's more passionate-than-usual vocals; "Wolves (Song of the Shepherd's Dog)" is a funky mix of David Essex's "Rock On," a backwoods-sounding Meters, and of all things, dub reggae; and most shockingly, "The Devil Never Sleeps" actually rocks with a rollicking barroom piano, a loping tempo, bongos, and lyrics about nothing on the radio, leading to a sound that's ironically perfect for the radio. By the end of the record, you may feel a few pangs for the discarded, sparse sound of early Iron & Wine, but the beauty and majesty of The Shepherd's Dog will pave right over them, and you should be able to enjoy the masterful songcraft, inspired performance, and note-perfect production with no guilt and a fair bit of awe. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
Musical collaborations can be a dicey proposition. The blending of two styles and sounds can lead to the cancellation of the aspects of each that make them interesting and unique in the first place, which in turn leads to an inferior record. Iron & Wine and Calexico decided to tempt fate and hook up in 2004 and In the Reins is the result. The record manages to blend the best aspects of the two groups and comes off a winner in all respects. You get Iron & Wine's melodicism, emotional depth, and literary grace backed by Calexico's desert-bleached C&W orchestral splendor. The record is probably pitched more in the I&W camp as Iron & Wine's Sam Beam wrote all the songs and sings his moody miniature portraits of desperation in a breathy, shivers-down-your-spine croon. Calexico color in his compositions with pedal steels, vibraphone, and meandering trumpets, and lead them out of the insular Florida swamp and into the wide-screen West. None of Beam's songs feel like between-album throwaways and in fact a few rate among his best (the aching and staggeringly beautiful "Dead Man's Will," "He Lays in the Reins."). They almost all sound wonderful; the wider range of musical colors opens up his songs and brings in some moods and sounds you might not expect on an Iron & Wine record. Case in point is "A History of Lovers," which comes equipped with a boogie beat, a glittering Vegas horn section, and actually rocks out very convincingly. Calexico really pulls a rabbit out of the hat there as Beam is about the last person in the music biz you would expect to rock out convincingly. The only place where the pairing falters is on the slick and facile "Red Dust," which starts off as an intimate blues ballad with just Beam and guitars, then shifts to a barroom bluesy stomp featuring some very clichéd harp soloing. Luckily, it is a brief misstep that doesn't wreck an otherwise excellent record. Fans of both bands will want to get In the Reins because it rates favorably with their best work and on a couple of songs ("A History of Lovers," "Dead Man's Will") the sum of their collaboration creates music greater than their parts. A rare and wonderful occurrence that; don't let it slip past you. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
On Our Endless Numbered Days, the follow-up to 2002's stunningly good Creek Drank the Cradle, the sound of Iron & Wine has changed but the song remains the same. No longer does Sam Beam record his intimate songs in the intimate surroundings of his home. Instead he has made the jump to the recording studio. As a result the record is much cleaner, less cocoon-like, certainly more the product of someone who has become a professional musician and not someone who just records for fun on a four-track. However, all Beam has sacrificed is sound quality. The sound of the record is still very intimate and simple, with very subtle arrangements that leave his voice and lyrics as the focal point. Luckily all the technology in the world can't affect Beam's voice, which still sounds like it comes right from his lips into your ear as if he were an angel perched on your shoulder. His songs are still as strong and memorable as they were on Creek, no drop off whatsoever in quality. "Naked as We Came" with sparkling melody lovely background harmonies by his sister Sara; the aching folk ballad "Radio War," which wouldn't sound out of place on Prairie Home Companion, only it would be the best thing you ever heard there; the sad and sweet "Each Coming Night"; the crystalline acoustic guitar ballad "Fever Dream," which has the kind of vocal harmony between Beam and his sister that seems to be the exclusive domain of siblings; and the soft rock CSNY "Sodom, South Georgia" are the equal of anything on Iron & Wine's debut and match up well with anything Palace, Smog, or their ilk have done lately. A definite plus to recording in a studio and enlisting the help of outside musicians is that there is much more variety to the album and there are lots of small production touches that liven things up like the Native American chants at the close of "Cinder and Smoke," the pedal steel guitar on "Sunset Soon Forgotten," and the drums and tambourine on the bluesy "Free Until They Cut Me Down." Our Endless Numbered Days is very subdued, thoughtful, melodic, and downright beautiful album and the new sound is more of a progression than a sudden shift in values, production or otherwise. Anyone who found the first album to be wonderful will no doubt feel the same about this one. Heck, you might even like it more. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
Iron and Wine's debut record, The Creek Drank the Cradle, is written, produced, and performed by Sam Beam and features only Beam's voice, a gently strummed acoustic guitar, some slide guitar, and the occasional banjo. Iron and Wine creates intimate and emotional songs, recorded bedroom-style but never letting the lo-fi get in the way of the tune. The obvious comparison has to be Lou Barlow/Sebadoh/Sentridoh, as they share the same breathy voice, melancholy outlook on life, and devotion to Nick Drake. The difference is that there are no traces of punk rock or noise for the sake of noise in Iron and Wine's music. Beam isn't interested in rocking out or obscuring the beauty that bursts from within his simple songs; he embraces it and lets his sadness twist in the wind for all to see. Besides, his vocal harmonies are more soft rock than punk rock. "Lion's Mane" opens the record and immediately takes your breath away as Beam's voice is so beautiful and his hooks are razor sharp. Every song that follows is just as memorable, Beam sounding positively angelic as he harmonizes with himself. "The Rooster Moans" is a chilling side trip into Appalachian folk; "Southern Anthem" a falsetto-led indie-gospel track with an absolutely soaring chorus. The simple musical backing never gets boring either, as there are musical hooks to match the vocal hooks -- the banjo in "Lion's Mane," the double-tracked repeating slide at the end of "Faded from the Winter," the gently chugging rhythm of "Upward Over the Mountain." As soon as the almost jaunty, Neil Young-esque album closer, "Muddy Hymnal," ends, you'll want to hit repeat and start again. The Creek Drank the Cradle is a stunning debut and one of the best records of 2002. ~Tim Sendra, All Music Guide