Album: Her Majesty The Decemberists

Artist: The Decemberists

Genre: Indie Rock

Year: 2003

I would feel guilty if I went right into this discussion without admitting that I slightly rigged the code that “randomly” chose this as my first album to listen to. Feeling slightly intimidated by the breadth of the genres that I’m committing to listen to (see here for the list), I tweaked my code so that the first album I was given would be from my familiar “Indie Rock” genre. Getting an album by the Decemberists was a pretty good starting point, as I’m only moderately familiar with the group’s music. I’m a huge fan of their 2009 rock opera “The Hazards of Love” but had a very tepid reaction when I listened to NPR’s free stream of their latest album, “The King is Dead."

With the appropriately titled first track on "Her Majesty the Decemberists,” a soundscape of dissonant violins, percussion, and screams launches into a folky accordion-driven “Shanty for the Arethusa.” From such a distinctive stylistic choice to open the album, the group proceeds to freely flow between equally distinctive styles, from the country-influenced “The Gymnast, High Above Ground” to tracks like “Billy Liar” which sounds like a tune penned by Lenka, or “The Bachelor and the Bride,” which sounds like it could have just as easily been on a Death Cab for Cutie album.

Through the eclecticism of all these styles, one constant seems to tie the album together: a bizarre sort of unrestrained joy. WIth the exception of the album’s two shanties, the second being “The Chimbley Sweep,” all of the songs are in a major key (or eventually end up there), with sparkling instrumentation like plinking glockenspiels, shining horn sections, bright acoustic guitar, and even a brief melodica solo. Even the minor “Chimbley Sweep” sounds like a raucous celebration taking place through the streets of a movie-musical set.

One of my greatest interests with this album, though, was how the lyrics seem to lie with and yet are set against the music. Lead singer and songwriter Colin Meloy is able to wring a wealth of emotion out of his voice, and yet the variations in his singing between full-out glee and subdued mourning are relatively subtle. Rather than arising from superficial melodrama, the emotion behind his voice seems to come from a truly deep place within himself. A song such as “Red Right Ankle” that among other artists might have been sung with the sorrowful voice of a jilted lover:

This is the story of your red right ankle

And how it came to meet your leg…

…And whatever differences our lives have been

We together make a limb

instead is treated with a level of narrative distance, and somehow, this removal allows the narrative of the song to sound much more realistic, universal, and heartbreaking. Another beautiful example is “The Bachelor and the Bride,” which begins with the lyrics

There’s a wrinkle in the water

Where we laid our first daughter

And I think the wind blows so sweetly there

These words sound apt for a down-tempo, grievous ballad. Instead, the song is uptempo and driving. As a result, Meloy is not mournful, but instead sounding quietly angry, sour, and suddenly the song gains many more layers of complexity.

While “Her Majesty the Decemberists” may not actualize the seafaring mood that its opening track promises, it certainly provides the listener with a journey through rising and falling waves of moods and music. It has high-energy tracks like “Song for Myla Goldberg,” resting on Barenaked Ladies-style pop sensibilities, and quieter moments like “I Was Meant for the Stage,” an extended acoustic ballad that sounds like a rejected number from “A Chorus Line”; the tune “Soldering Life” even plays back and forth between these two sonic ends. Through all of these dynamic shifts, however, the album wraps the listener with harmonies that are comfortable but not cliche, and serves them dangerously tuneful melodies placed over arrangements that make the whole affair come off as one giant family celebration. While not containing the same excitement that “Hazards of Love”’s conceptual continuity provides, “Her Majesty the Decemberists” certainly fulfills its contract of providing the listener with an experience that is be well-worth their forty minutes of time.

Favorite Tracks: "Song for Myla Goldberg", “Red Right Ankle”, “The Chimbley Sweep”

Listen & Download: Her Majesty The Decemberists