February of 2006, I saw mewithoutYou in the Kokomo Convention Center. They had wrapped up a tour a couple months before, had done some writing, and were driving to California to record their new record. 

That night, they played some of songs from that record for the first time. And immediately, it was obvious that things would be different.

That night, they played three songs that I remember: “A Glass Can Only Spill What It Contains,” “The Dryness and the Rain,” and “In A Sweater Poorly Knit.” While the first two didn’t stray too far from the frantic, eccentric punk of Catch For Us the Foxes, “Sweater” felt revolutionary. Aaron pulled out an acoustic guitar and delivered the entire song in a singing voice that betrayed his love of Bob Dylan and Neutral Milk Hotel.

After their set, I went to talk to Aaron. I thanked Aaron for [A–>B] Life, calling it “the greatest break up album ever” (I forgot to mention that my high school girlfriend and I broke up right after I got that CD). He laughed and said, “there was a lot of that happening back then. But then we got back together before Foxes. But now we’ve broken up again so this next record is gonna be like…” and he mimed an explosion with his hands, then quiet. “But actually, I’m just trying to focus more on…” he pointed up, “so, you know.”

With the combination of the new songs and Aaron’s personal assurance that it would be (explosion gesture), I devoured everything I could. I scoured YouTube for live videos. I read the band blog. In the next four months, I would see them two more times, hearing new songs each time. 

By the time the album came out (I went to Walmart at midnight the night before to get a copy), I had heard every song but three. And yet, it hit my just as fresh. And when Jeremy Enigk of Sunny Day Real Estate began wailing in “O Porcupine,” God as my witness, I wept.

While I may never decide whether I love this or Foxes more, there’s no mistaking that Brother, Sister is the sound a band at their peak. When [A–>B] was released, they were an underground band trying to create a record that did justice to their ferocious live show. When they released Foxes, they were still relative unknowns trying to create something special. 

But when they went to make Brother, Sister, they had already created a reputation for themselves. Stories of Aaron’s dietary antics and their veggie-oil bus had become scene folklore. Their Cornerstone performances had cemented them as a band that you absolutely could not miss. 

This record captures all of that momentum and quirkiness. Guest appearances are legion—they are joined by members of the Psalters, Anathallo, Jeremy, and harpist Timbre. They’re also joined by a new bassist: their former Operation bandmate Greg Jehanian, whose rapport with the group is almost instinctual. Unconventional instruments like accordions and hand percussion are ubiquitous. 

But the also add some new conventional sounds. Aaron’s acoustic guitar pops up in a number of occasions. His brother Mike sets down his electric guitar for an electric piano on the intro of album opener “Messes of Men,” a Dylan-esque folk tune run through the group’s trademark instrumentation. Just as Aaron added more sung vocals on Foxes, on Brother, Sister the songs are almost an even split between shouting and singing. A few songs are entirely sung, including the gorgeous “The Sun and the Moon,” which might be my favorite thing they’ve ever done—largely because of the ending instrumental jam where Mike, Chris, Rickie, and Greg flex their muscles.

The tracklist is more cohesive than Foxes. Songs run together without stopping like they did on [A–>B], punctuated by three verses about an existential spider. And on either side of  Aaron’s musings on egotistical cats, weeping Messiahs, the distance between himself and his father, and line upon line of philosophical dissection, the record is bookended by a single reminder:

“I do not exist.”

That’s a bold statement for a record as fiercely independent as this one. This record seems to exist entirely apart from exterior influences. It sounds like no one else, and while mewithoutYou has now influenced scores of musicians in the broader punk scene (some more than others), nothing has come close to sounding like this. It is the definitive work from a truly special group.