The nice thing about being a band that nobody knows about is that you can do whatever you want, you know? Without catching hell for it. That's sort of how we felt about the re-recording, too. I thought, "Well, you know a few people noticed this record the first time around but not so many will really protest if we do it again."

When you make a record, you probably are not going to hit exactly what you were aiming for. You also have to let go at a certain point, and just trust it. I remember feeling we had fallen short, or that it had fallen short. At the same time it was great to see a good critical reaction to it, and to hear people were enjoying it, which made me think, "Well, maybe it's a good thing I didn't get exactly what I wanted." Now we're testing that theory.

It's not like I'm narrating stories with music behind them. It's all kind of one thing. You hope you can provoke a specific emotional reaction, but in ways that aren't quite plain.

The only problem with Shearwater as a name for a band is that people sort of think that it's this amalgamated word like Pushmonkey or something. Doesn't have an actual...you know, like Clearwater or Stillwater, they don't realize that it actually is a thing. It seemed like such a beautiful word, I was so suprised that no body had named their band that.

I felt like the last record was a real step forward for us. I was very pleased to see some people saying the same things - that it was a real departure, that it was much more individual, that it sort of a power of its own. I really did feel those things very strongly, it's our most realized record.

Being like stranded without a label in the middle of tour was very strange. On the other hand it made us move instantly. I mean, I didn't wallow. I was like, "Alright, who can we email? Let's just start putting stuff out." I felt like we were playing really well and it was at least worth a shot.

The nice thing about being a band that nobody knows about is that you can do whatever you want.