Jonas Bjerre’s voice has always been surreal. The frontman and singer for Danish art rock band Mew has a keen ability to sound even more ethereal than Jónsi himself, the king of European falsettos. He opts for delicate, airy notes amidst Mew’s harsher rock. Even as the throes of No More Stories’ “Repeaterbeater” slam with catastrophic force or And The Glass-Handed Kites’ “Why Are You Looking Grave?” rolls into shoegaze, Bjerre holds destruction at bay with his frail, thin vocals, pinching the guitars between his thumb and middle finger, shaking them until they begin to look like rubber. While the band’s bizarre version of melodic prog rock has always suited them, Bjerre’s vocals appear misplaced. Don’t misread this. They make the contrast work in their favor, but Bjerre could quickly join another band where his sound is more suitable, more emphasized, and more decorated. When you’re following a six-year silence, there’s pressure pointed at you from all directions, so Mew rebooted until they found the equilibrium of the planet, particularly the interconnectivity between water and air, two forms of life which his voice has continually emulated since the band formed in 1994.