The third full-length solo outing from ex-Sunny Day Real Estate/Fire Theft frontman Jeremy Enigk strips away the lush orchestration that made 2006's wildly uneven World Waits the hi-fi brother to 1996's lo-fi chamber pop masterpiece Return of the Frog Queen. For the most part, OK Bear bears the signature marks of its creator. Enigk's undeniably rich and powerful voice has never sounded better, and his enigmatic lyrics remain resplendent with biblical imagery and magnetic poetry-engineered spiritual vagaries. The album starts off promising with the serpentine "Mind Idea," a sonic sequel of sorts to the World Waits' gem "Been Here Before," followed by the fuzzy, Sunny Day-esque "Late of Camera." OK Bear slows down a bit in the middle, but the electrifying emo-punk/power pop jewel "Life's Too Short" and the gorgeous closer "Sant Feliu de Guixols" will please both longtime fans and newcomers alike. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
A decade passed since Jeremy Enigk, lead singer of Sunny Day Real Estate and the Fire Theft, released his last solo album, Return of the Frog Queen. And in ten years it's natural, expected, desired even, that one will mature, that one's musical tastes and influences may expand or change, so it's not so strange that Enigk's sophomore record is not an exact copy of his debut. What is strange, however, is how different it actually is. While Return of the Frog Queen was chamber pop and struck acoustic chords, World Waits is soft arpeggioed electric guitars, sweeping violins, and droning keyboards. Enigk sounds like a mixture of Peter Gabriel, U2, Sarah McLachlan, and a little bit of Elf Power. ~ Marisa Brown, All Music Guide
Great surprise. Return of the Frog Queen comes out of nowhere, in no way the follow-up to Jeremy Enigk's two previous LPs with Sunny Day Real Estate. Enigk chooses a really remarkable path, taking his highly dramatic, angst-ridden singing to a totally new sound. Now he favors harshly played acoustics. Way more surprising, Enigk lassos a whole orchestra to flesh out the background of each song! Enigk still screams like the abandoned child of Plastic Ono Band Lennon and "Heart Shaped Box" Cobain, a real shake-up. Likewise, his orchestra has equally dangerous intents. The most startling musical moment of all 1996 is the second half of the otherwise buried "Shade and the Black Hat," where the pent-up frustration inherent in this whole LP is suddenly let loose like Enigk were the delirious keeper of Pandora's box. He pounds a piano and howls like his wife just left him for his best friend, as the violins, violas, and cellos scrape at their strings as if to break them, and the flutes, piccolos, trumpets, trombones, French horns, and clarinets blow like they were hired by a wolf to blast a few recalcitrant pigs' houses down. The waves of classical countermelodies are extraordinary, adding on to each other to create an "1812 Overture" anvil clarion call, a roar so dense, so overpowering, it's like gasoline exploding, even more so as they back Enigk's fevered wail as if he were long past desperation. There are many other smaller, striking moments -- many far sweeter, too, though always tempered by Enigk's dark voice -- found throughout the LP, such as the chorus of "Carnival," where the man and his players turn positively paranoid to the suddenly depraved strains of circus sounds. The overall songwriting is superb, too. A truly remarkable work that has done the unthinkable, Frog Queen breaks new ground yet remains a direct hit, with the passion, power, and rage of punk; the simple, appealing babbling of folk; and even the multidimensional, nasty din of modern Russian classical. Wow. ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide