The Decemberists-The Crane Wife

2006
Capitol Records

If you know only one thing about The Decemberists, you know this: Lead-singer/songwriter/source-of-mojo Colin Meloy uses big words.  This gets mentioned first and foremost in just about every single article or profile or review concerning the band.   We get it:  Dude’s, like, literary.   And, although this gives them a bit of a distinguishing characteristic among the legions of current Neutral Milk Hotel and Belle & Sebastian influenced indie-poppers, no one actually listens to The Decemberists for Meloy’s syntax-bending vocabulary escapades.

Meloy has a creative-writer’s knack for character profiles, but mostly he draws from archetypes—the lousy athlete, the lovelorn soldier, the bloodthirsty pirate.  He knows that, because of its fairy-tale familiarity, his actual storytelling—though an obvious strength, as well as a source of much attention for the band—is actually a secondary pleasure to the music.  His lyrics have progressed little in quality between 2003’s Her Majesty The Decemberists and the brand new The Crane Wife (they began with high quality and retained it.)  Instead, Meloy and crew put their effort and ambition into the melody, structure and scope of the songs.  As a result, The Crane Wife is as much of a sweet surprise this year as Picaresque was last year.

The Crane Wife hits its stride in the sequence that moves effortlessly from the propulsive, quintessentially-Decemberistic “O Valencia” to the synthesizer-driven, danceable “The Perfect Crime #2” to the guitar monster, “When The War Came.”  The Decemberists manage to fit these stylistic experiments into their singular aesthetic—they can do synth-pop, then break out a sea shanty, and the two disparate sounds can fit snugly together.  In part, this comes from ace musicianship.  But it’s also a side effect of Meloy’s songwriting.  His flare for dramatic word-choice and allusions to The Tempest create something of a mythology for the band—a world, musical and lyrical, where the mundane and the anachronistic live harmoniously.  When Meloy’s songs work best, the stories unfold after multiple listens, sneaking in a bit at a time, riffing on a theme or a character, feeling non-linear even if they’re essentially straightforward, but—most importantly—remaining malleable enough to move out of the way for the catchy parts.

The catchy parts keep getting better and better:  The way Meloy teases out the verses on “O Valencia” from The Crane Wife until they can’t help but release the simple, luscious trumpeting of the title as the chorus; the declaration that “The winter’s so long,” leading into the titular story; the quasi-political singalong at the end of the album.  Over the past few years, Meloy’s delivery has become one of the most versatile in indie-rock.  He propels the short songs and sustains the long ones.  He exercises an immense amount of restraint, so that the sugary melodies never become syrupy.  And, finally, he elevates the prose from vocab-testing mouthfuls to joyful celebrations of both music and storytelling.  No other voice could do his words justice.

-Marty Brown, 2006

Comments

[Squidhelmet]

Well you definitely made me give this another listen Mr. Brown. And the main reason was because unpon preliminary listening, I thought that the music was kind of bland, and that the bland music was overpowering the lyrics (whose stories I love to hear!) But I like this band so much, that I'm going to keep trying to hear what you hear. PS - I really love their cover of Joanna Newsom's "Bridges and Balloons" off of your MC Stankbooty mix "MC Stankbooty on some 2005 Shit"

[TJ]

Excellent review. Their last album, Picaresque, took me a bit to get into but eventually, it's become one of my favorite albums to listen to. The Crane Wife, on the other hand, grabbed me immediately. I especially love The Island with its Hammond Organ jam session and 3 act play organization. This is a really kickass CD.