Sometimes one’s passion can be reignited by the simple act of walking away from it. 　　For Dave Wanamaker, a veteran of the 90’s indie rock revolution that found a slew of Boston bands - including his, Expanding Man - signed to major labels, and a second success story with his critically-acclaimed Loveless just as the major label system began to unravel, that has certainly been the case. 　　Returning from a five year hiatus from making music, Wanamaker’s moody and often melancholy, Shelter, is a gorgeous meditation on a life in transit but with a renewed sense of direction. Recorded primarily in Nashville at the legendary Music Row studio, Ronnie’s Place (Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings) with a stellar cast of compatriots from his days in Boston, Shelter finds Wanamaker in a comfortable new space both as a musician and songwriter. 　　“This batch of songs and this whole idea came along after basically quitting music,” he explains. 　　“After Loveless broke up, and previous to that, Expanding Man; years of writing, recording and touring, I basically stopped playing music for the sake of it.” 　　His exile from making music was broken when a few years later a friend encouraged him to play a show at the then recently opened Rockwood Music Hall in New York City. 　　“Rockwood had opened and a friend who was connected with the venue convinced me to come out and play a show there. I agreed but felt compelled to write a couple of new things,” he recalls. “I needed to get to playing music and writing songs for the sake of playing music and writing songs. I was able to step far enough away from the business side of it to not care about that anymore.” 　　What came from that break was a new approach, weathered by both personal experience and professional endeavors in the music business. The result: an endearing but wary examination that sounds as familiar as a rainy Sunday night but will also immediately connect with anyone who has spent that first Sunday night alone. 　　“I wanted to develop more as a songwriter and, quite frankly, write songs that I could never have played with my old bands because they were more rock bands,” he explains, honestly. “The first thought was really just to challenge myself as a songwriter and just write a few great songs.” 　　That challenge was overcome on, Shelter. Listeners will hear that immediately on the achingly beautiful, “Loveletter.” An avowed Telecaster virtuoso, Wanamaker lets his guard down convincingly with a softer approach anchored by the type of lyrical admissions that fueled much of the best work by legends like Big Star. When he plaintively asks, “Was I the only one who saw you at your best? Funny how I never had to try,” the sentiment slides through as though delivered from a creaky barstool. 　　“It almost felt to me like somebody else had written it and I feel like that’s a good benchmark,” he admits. “That song started the whole record.” 　　Feeling confident that he was enjoying a songwriting resurgence, he was heartened when longtime friend, Gibb Droll (Bruce Hornsby, Brandi Carlisle) had a listen to some demos via a smartphone over drinks at New York’s Bowery Hotel. 　　“He told me we had to make a record and I just kind of laughed and said, ‘You live in Nashville, and I’m in New York. I’m not broke, but I can just see dollar signs adding up in my head at the idea of bringing a band to Nashville,’” Wanamaker admits. “I was thinking more along the lines of maybe we make this record over three years in my apartment.” 　　But then the pieces began falling into place. Upon returning to Nashville, Droll discovered that Ronnie’s Place, a Music Row institution that had originally been built by Roy Orbison but had later passed into the hands of country icon, Ronnie Milsap, was again changing hands. With an old Neve board, wood-paneled walls and even a glass isolation room containing Milsap’s perfectly tuned concert grand piano, the locale seemed ideal. 　　An ad-hoc band that had been playing a handful of shows behind Wanamaker quickly coalesced, fused by a bond formed in Boston. Drummer, Pete Caldes (The Gravel Pit, Juliana Hatfield), bassist, Joe McMahon (Senor Happy, Tanya Donnelly), and guitarist, Jay Barclay (Augustana, The Damnwells) who recruited New York City keyboardist, Chris LoPresto. 　　The singer’s Boston roots smiled on him once more when Marc Chevalier, who knew Wanamaker from having worked with Expanding Man in both the studio and on the road, agreed to engineer the sessions and his friend, Joe Costa (Ben Folds) signed on to mix the record. 　　“Things don’t usually line up this way, and the best part is that it was a lot of fun and no stress,” Wanamaker recalls with a laugh at his good fortune. “It was the sort of hang you dream of. A bunch of friends home from the studio and digging into different records by artists like P.J. Harvey, the National and Peter Gabriel for example. Or take a song like, “Time after Time,” by Cyndi Lauper and Dave Stewart, and hearing all this beautiful stuff and thinking about how to capture something that beautiful on a song. It was a very inspiring experience.” 　　Those influences and so many more influence, Shelter, and Wanamaker is unhesitant about his appreciation for this process and his goals since emerging from a self-inspired hibernation. 　　“This was a record made by a bunch of lifelong friends and musicians and this is what we do,” he says with a fondness both genuine and affectionate for his supporting cast but with an eye on his own forward-moving career. “I look at people like Neil Finn, Peter Gabriel, Nick Cave, Elvis Costello, and I aspire to be like those guys and keep churning out the best songs that I can, and record them with great musicians and friends. I just want to make music, keep creating art, and if it’s good, hopefully people will connect with that.” 　　Wanamaker now has a decided refocus on his music. 　　“The fact that this record is going to be on a piece of wax, have a cover, and a life that it didn’t have before is great. When you’re writing songs, that’s what you want to do. You want to make a record and put it out. If it can translate to someone, create enjoyment or touch somebody, that’s the main thing,” he explains. “It also proved to me that I am on a whole new road as a songwriter, that there will be another record. That’s an accomplishment because four years ago there wasn’t going to be any record at all.”