Music Review: "The Crane Wife" by the Decemberists

Music Review: “The Crane Wife,” the Decemberists

Despite my inability to actually buy the CD itself here in Brazil, I’ve still managed to get it thanks to the modern wonders of the world we live in. Many others will make a big deal of how it’s loosely based around some Japanese folk tale that’s lame enough I don’t know it. I will not.

Instead, I’ll make a big deal out of how outstanding this album is. While some in the “Indie” (whatever that is) community may lament the effects of the Decembrists jumping to a major label, such a jump has not killed their sound, or even remotely altered it. All it has done is taught them to be more restrained. Earlier albums occasionally had the sense that their intention was to show how unique and “indie” the Decemberists were. Not here, though. The accordion, Hurdygurdy, Wurlitzer (which is far too under-employed in the music world), Dulcimer, and Bouzouki (yes, Bouzouki) remain, but the song structures and the melodies and countermelodies and harmonies are outstanding. The lilting opening of opening track "Crane Wife 3" provides a sweetness few albums have, and even though the lyrics don’t make much sense on their own (being part of the broader meta-narrative of the Crane Wife story), they have a sincerity few artists ever achieve. "The Perfect Crime" marks another masterful example of how to be catchy and melodic without being simple or boring. The music is at the same time simple and complex, weaving in and out with frontman Colin Melloy’s and Jenny Conlee's and Laura Viers's voices. The epic 11-minute "The Island-Come & See/The Landlord's Daughter/You'll Not Feel the Drowning," despite the lengthy title, never has a sense of pretentiousness, as though Melloy and company know exactly the story they are telling, and are expressly interested in telling it, never wasting time with unnecessary musical or vocal interludes. By the time the somewhat-bombastic (by the album’s standards) “When the War Came” arrives, it’s a bit of a shock, with its cacophonous (again, by the Decemberists’ standards) clanging, but with the story guiding the music, it works perfectly. The final four tracks of the album provide a perfect melodic, beautiful comedown, and by the time we reach the end of the album, we’ve musically been subjected to some of the finest-crafted and finely-tuned songs on any album, “indie” or otherwise, this year.

Additionally, Melloy’s mastery of his voice shows a marked growth. I don’t know if this was the producer’s decision, or Melloy’s, but it adds greatly to the album. While generally I’ve enjoyed the Decemberists previous three albums, it’s always been with some qualms. Most notably, Melloy can overdo it a bit on his nasally, baritone style of singing (particularly, but not strictly, on “The Chimbley Sweep” on 2004’s “Her Majesty, The Decemberists”). Not on this album, however. He masterfully uses the vocal cords God gave him to craft fine melodious tunes, countered perfectly by fellow bandmember Conlee's and Viers's lilting harmonics. He no longer seems interested in showing the world how interesting his voice is in and of itself, and instead is interested in showing the world how well he can use it.

Rating: 5.5 [out of 6] Square Glasses.