The Decemberists - Picaresque

The Decemberists
Picaresque
Kill Rock Stars
Grade: A-/A

As I waited for my car to get serviced and plopped down to do work, I put in the latest from this epic Portland, OR five-piece and was immediately blown away by the opener “The Infanta.” Previous encounters with the Decemberists had hardly registered a blip beyond the ordinary. But now I was fascinated with every inkling of this eleven-track opus. At first, I thought that there was something wrong with me that I would find such pleasure in such theatrics. Of course, there is something wrong with me, but this was different. The fascination led to uncountable spins of the record and a mild procrastination in actually trying to review the gorgeous Picaresque.

The Decemberists formed in and around 1999, when frontman Colin Meloy headed into town from Montana to pursue a musical absorption. Having a previous familiarity with the Portland area, Meloy realized it was difficult to do music in Montana and broke up his band Tarkio to head west. After some common open-mic nights, Meloy enlisted the efforts of Jenny Conlee, Chris Funk, Nate Query and, later, Rachel Blumberg to form the Decemberists. While it is hard to escape concentrating on Meloy’s hyperliterate storytelling verses and perfectly situated vocals, it is clear from the Decemberists’ songs that Meloy relies in great detail on his band mates in creating the magic. All pieces need to be fluid in making great music and when it clicks it is wondrous.

The Decemberists debut record Castaways and Cutouts came out in 2002 on the relatively small Portland label Hush Records; and was subsequently re-released in 2003 by KRS. Production thrived as the band also unleashed the EP Five Songs for Hush in 2001 and the full-length Her Majesty the Decemberists for KRS in 2003. In addition, the Decemberists released a short EP entitled The Tain for Spanish label Acuarela Discos based on an eighth century Irish poem. For Picaresque, the Decemberists reenlisted Chris Walla of Death Cab for Cutie to produce the record and a score of additional musicians to fill-in horns, strings and voice where needed. Weeks recording in Portland and Seattle have now paid off in droves for both the band and the listener.

As mentioned, the Decemberists are noted for epic, theatrical numbers that illustrate just a ridiculous literary flair; something that is both marvelous and bewildering at the same time. Meloy generally prefers relatively obscure synonyms for basic words in his lyrics, typically suited to rhyme lines – for instance, using “Purloined in Petrograd” in “The Bagman’s Gambit.” But, it not necessarily the case that Meloy is sitting there with a thesaurus trying to be obscure and it doesn’t come off as too much.

Picaresque begins on “The Infanta” with jungle moments as the song tells the tail of a child princess’s coronation with all various royals and elephants moving within the show. While a strong number with galloping beats, my preferred part of the song comes on the opening line “Here she comes in her palanquin.” Aurally, I hear this line as “Here she comes in her Colin Quinn” and laugh every time. The following number “We Both Go Down Together” is one of the musical highlights of the record, though it is about a couple committing suicide. The chorus of “And O! My Love! My Love!” is memory-burning and lyrics such as “Meet me on my vast veranda” will have you coming back for repeat listens. “Eli, the Barrow Boy” is a solemn acoustic number about a brokenhearted boy who is found downed in the river but whose ghost still walks singing about his lost love. The Decemberists pick up the tempo and pop-appeal on “The Sporting Life” as the character plays the role of injured soccer player. The song echoes a vast disappointment on several levels within a hyper-competitive world – not just sport. The seven-minute “The Bagman’s Gambit” is a slow, acoustic picking number that moves to full orchestration several minutes and continues to dip back and forth. “The Bagman’s Gambit” concerns a classic Cold War-style love affair between two spies and dazzles on the quasi-chorus “No, they’ll never catch me now.” “From My Own True Love (Lost at Sea)” is a short first step into the common Decemberists’ theme of ocean adventures; though here it is about a person asking about a lost love at sea. The Decemberists pick the tempo up again on “16 Military Wives” where they musically go for mass pop appeal along with a critique of the Iraq war. The chorus is most pointed: “And America does if America says it’s so/And the anchorperson on TV goes “la di da di da….” “The Engine Driver” revolves around four characters – an engine driver, a county lineman, a writer and a moneylender – and their quest for a love that they can’t have for whatever reason. “The Engine Driver” flows right into “On the Bus Mall,” a quite sad lyrical number about runaway prostitutes who have banded together like family. However, it is musically beautiful and is a stunning storytelling number. The most obviously epic and theatrical number follows on the nine-minute “The Mariner’s Revenge Song.” The tale, recorded live around a single microphone and punctuated by Conlee’s accordion, involves a boy – now a young man – avenging his mother’s death on the sea. It goes that this guy moved in with his widowed mother, put her in massive debt, left, their property was taken by the government and then his mother died. He finally catches up the captain when a whale demolishes both boats and they find themselves alive inside the whale. If there were ever an epic pop song, “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” is it. Picaresque ends on the glorious, mellow acoustic number “Of Angels and Angles,” which serves a sweet contrast to the frantic opener. Here, Meloy sounds much closer to mellow Weakerthans’ number than to the other ten songs on this record.

There is little doubt that Picaresque is the Decemberists’ best effort to date and clearly illustrates a band progressively improving. Don’t miss the amusing stagecraft photos in the booklet accompanying several of the songs. On the unfortunate side of things, the Decemberists gear was stolen this past month in Portland while they were about to set off for tour. The spectrum of the gear is enormous and you can gain information on it, as well as provide support for the band, through this link: The Decemberists’ Fund.