On their past few releases, five-piece indie outfit The Decemberists have experienced musical ups and downs much like the theatrical tone of their songs — part dark and dramatic but also regaling in playful chanteys. With the release of The Crane Wife, their fourth full length album and first on a major label (Capitol Records), The Decemberists can't overcome this melodic wave, hitting some high notes but at other times falling flat.
Their first album, 2002's Castaways and Cutouts was an understated folky gem, heavy on the accordion and organ with engaging lyrics. The album projected just enough quirkiness to make it distinctive and just enough melodicism and pop sensibility to make it engaging.
The group's follow-up effort, 2003's Her Majesty was a more ambitious album than Castaways and Cutouts, but the end result did not always live up to its goals. The album started with the haunting "Shanty for the Arethusa," an epic tale of shady pirates. However, the tracks that followed were not as listenable.
"Billy Liar" is the most annoying song in The Decemberists' catalog, showing leader Colin Meloy's vocals at their nasal peak in a song only catchy in the most prosaic sense of the word. The remainder of Her Majesty continued to follow a path similar to that of the first two tracks, hitting and missing throughout. Luckily, the quality tracks were good enough to make listeners forgive the band for the more indie-pop songs.
The Decemberists released their best album yet, and arguably one of the best albums of 2005, Picaresque. With its unbelievably apt title, the album continued the tradition of superlative British-folk inspired songs with strikingly literate tales of seafaring rogues. It also contained multiple songs set in the present — a welcome change for the band, which helped lessen the pretentious nature of a handful of Colin Meloy's songs. Even the forays into pop on Picaresque are tighter and more focused than those on Her Majesty. Unfortunately, The Crane Wife has more in common with Her Majesty than Picaresque.
Once again, The Decemberists try for a more musically ambitious approach with varying results. "The Crane Wife 3" is an excellent opening track that does not stray too far from the familiar Decemberists' formula, but nonetheless draws the listener in. It both begins and ends the story of The Crane Wife, which is returned to in the ninth track; the lovely and spectacularly catchy 11-minute opus, "The Crane Wife 1 & 2." This track showcases Jenny Conlee's wonderful Hammond organ playing, as well as the ever-increasing tightness of The Decemberists as a cohesive unit.
"The Island" is a three-part suite that is more akin to 2004's The Tain EP than any of their full-length releases. The first part, "Come and See" combines an early '70s muddy rock sound, like a lighter Black Sabbath with Colin Meloy's trademark vocals over an acoustic guitar. The second section is a first person account of a murderous scallywag and his encounter with "The Landlord's Daughter" over an aggressive synthesizer. "You'll Not Feel The Drowning," the final part of the more than 12-minute long suite, tells the harrowing results of that encounter over a mournful cello.
The Civil War narrative "Yankee Bayonet" is sung in a sunny, pop-style as a duet with singer/songwriter Laura Veirs. This is one of the tracks where Meloy's ambition pays off, the only minor downside is the overuse of the "ah ah ah oh oh" refrain. "Oh Valencia!" follows "Yankee Bayonet" and is one of the album's low points. It is a sort of "star-crossed lovers" tale that sounds like a late '80s R.E.M. throwaway.
Whether "The Perfect Crime #2" is a highlight or not is something listeners will mull over after the first listen. It is certainly a new direction for The Decemberists and sounds so much like a Talking Heads song that at times it could be mistaken for a cover. What is irritating about this song is that it comes so close to being exceptional, but does not quite pull it off. Colin Meloy could have refrained from singing "a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect" as often as he did, and the band could have done more to aid in the song's progression. Had those two improvements been made, it could have been the best Talking Heads-esque song since the mid-80s — when Talking Heads were in their prime.
"When the War Came" is another early '70s hard rock-influenced track with progressive rock leanings that name drops Nikolai Vavilov, an early 20th-century Russian botanist. "Shankhill Butchers" is sung like a lullaby over sparse instrumentation, with the lyrics "they used to be sweet little boys/ but something went horribly askew/ now killing is their only sense of joy." This song is a clear throwback to The Decemberists' earlier albums and is one of the most entertaining, though disquieting, moments on the album.
The accordion-driven "Summersong" tells a dark nautical tale. It is not a terrible song, but when compared to the best songs on the album it seems relatively boring and unnecessary. The high point of the album's final track, "Sons & Daughters," comes at the beginning as it transitions from the phenomenal "The Crane Wife 1&2." The song does build up enough momentum by the end during a chorus of "hear all the bombs/ they fade away" to make for a fitting ending to another enjoyable release from The Decemberists.
Grade: 4 out 5