The Decemberists – The Crane Wife Review
Posted by Morgan Marx on 10.23.2006
A staggering work of heartbreaking genius. Wait, a heartbreaking work of staggering genius? Damn you, David Eggers!
It can be easy to over think simple things. It happens in every field, but it occurs quite frequently when it comes to the act of reviewing. Is it good or is it bad? That, basically, is the only thing addressed in a review, whether the “it” in question is a movie, book, or speech. We can argue and haggle, debate whether an album is 3.5 or 4 stars, whether a movie is sublime or merely great. But in the end it is that one simple question that we come back to: is it good or is it bad.
A band like The Decemberists offers a lot to over think. From the period costumes the players sometimes appear in to the academic nature of the themes they sing about, a Decemberists album seems to cry out, begging to be analyzed, researched, and decoded. Colin Meloy’s well-crafted lyrics, reading almost like short stories, could easily come with numerous footnotes, translating the obscure, multi-syllabic words and identifying the even more obscure references hidden within the bridges and choruses. So before we get to any of that, before we discuss Japanese folk tales, prog, and The Tempest, let’s deal with the primary question. It’s good. In fact, it’s very good.
The Crane Wife begins with an ending. Gently strummed guitar chords and plainly sung lyrics make up “The Crane Wife 3,” the conclusion to the title story of the album. The buoyant bass line belies the bitter theme of loss that the song addresses. A mourning violin adds to the funereal nature. The narrator has lost a love, a simple story structure that Meloy mines repeatedly in his songs. Just as the listener is left wondering what happened, both to the narrator and his beloved, we abandon that track in favor of the epic ‘The Island,” which is really three songs in one. Let the over analysis begin!
“The Island’s” grandiose structure has generated a lot of talk surrounding one of those buzzwords that bands generally shy away from (and for once, thank god, it’s not emo). The song’s 12+ minute length, subject matter, and multiple shifts in point of view is almost (gasp) progressive in nature. Jenny Conlee’s brilliant electric organ playing (including a stand out solo) is a key component of the song. Therefore, comparisons have been made to such rock dinosaurs as ELP. In just one record The Decemberists have left behind the catchphrase “indie” in favor of both a major label (Capitol) and a major new sound.
For fans that have listened to the band’s EP “The Tain,” this shouldn’t come as a surprise. “The Tain” also revolved around an archaic story (a medieval Irish folk story) and some classic rock licks. The Decemberists have always had the ability to out-rock other so-called indie artists. Each member of the band is supremely gifted at his or her instrument of choice, including Meloy, a veritable guitar virtuoso (though he’s certainly better read than Joe Satriani). The grooves on songs like “The Island” are both heavier (partly due to drummer John Moon’s heavy hands) and catchier than much of what was on 2005’s Picaresque. It would be difficult to say that a 15 minute song suite is more “pop” than songs about vagabonds and barrow boys, but The Crane is almost more immediately gratifying. The songs reach out and grab hold of you, drawing you in to their depths, much like the pillagers “The Island” describes.
Meloy’s penchant for writing lyrics that should come with a complimentary thesaurus hasn’t waned. “A briar-cradle rocks its babe to sleep/Its contents watched by Sycorax and Patagon in parallax,” might possibly contain references to Shakespeare, James Joyce, and mythical giants. But what would I know, I’m only an English major. In any sense, the degree of difficulty to Meloy’s lyrics hardly matters. His songs work on multiple levels. If you get everything he’s talking about (or feel the need to look up all the difficult words) great. If not, the melodies and hooks set a mood that delivers the message far more clearly than the stanzas. Production from Death Cab For Cuties Christopher Walla certainly plays a part in the fact that The Crane Wife sounds so wonderful.
“Shankill Butchers” is an example of this. The haunting song is barely more than a wisp of an acoustic guitar and some frightening vocals. Meloy cautions the listener to mind your mom, lest the Shankill Butchers “catch you awake.” Though Meloy sings in a slightly high, almost sweet voice, the subject matter is decidedly darker. “They’re picking at their fingers with their knives/And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs” paints a scary picture. At first, the song seems like a fairly tale of warning. However, if you know that the Shankill Butchers really exist, that they are members of a group who tortured and killed Catholics in Belfast during the 70s (and might still be around), the song takes on an even darker tone.
Not all of The Crane Wife is depressing and/or terrifying. “Yankee Bayonet” is the cheeriest song ever sung from the perspective of a dead civil war soldier and his widow. Laura Veirs adds wonderful vocals to the duet, playing foil to Meloy’s optimistic corpse. Similarly, “Summersong” is a breezy and light little diddy about drowning. The Decemberists have mastered the ability to weave upbeat sounds with dour themes. I’m sure Meloy is capable of writing an honest to God happy song. “O Valencia!” comes close, but then the heroine is shot by her brother and dies in the arms of her true love. Oh well, maybe next album.
The Crane Wife ends up back at the beginning. “The Crane Wife 1 & 2” details the love between a poor man and the wounded crane that shows up on his doorstep. The song is one of the finest The Decemberists have come up with. It flows gently into “Sons & Daughters” with concludes the album with a string of almost “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” layered vocals. The song devolves into 4 simultaneously sung sections, each chasing the other’s tale. Finally, the choir settles on the statement, “Hear all the bombs, they fade away” to close out the album on a positive note. The lasting effects of the album certainly won’t be fading from the listener’s mind for a while.
The 411: An ambitious album that succeeds wildly on multiple fronts. The Crane Wife finds a band at both the peak of its ability and at a time of change. The Decemberists have pushed their sound in new directions without loosing any of the charm that pervaded prior works. If this is “selling out” in the 21st century, more bands should follow The Decemberists lead.
