Chase Harrison | Contributing Writer

In the notes on my phone is a list I have dubbed “the bad plus”–so named because it is a list of all the artists I hear about that I want to listen to (the Prog Jazz group of the same name being the first on this list, therefore becoming the name of the document in my iPhone’s knowledgeable eyes. I have listened to the Bad Plus, and they are quite good.). Somewhere down that list (between “Heligoats” and “Coconut Records” to be exact) is a group called The Decemberists. I first heard the group, like many groups on the bad plus, during my on-again, off-again quest to listen to every episode of the venerable NPR podcast All Songs Considered. I was interested by the great arrangements and solid songwriting that the group presented and was interested to hear more of their music. However, like much of the bad plus, I chose to forgo this obviously interesting band and their music and instead listened to American Football’s LP for the dozenth time.

So I have come upon What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World, the Decemberists’ new album, almost as uneducated as one could be. The extent of my exposure to the band over the last few months has been maybe a song or two playing on public radio and the use of “Sons and Daughters” in an episode of The Office. This, though, is perhaps the best state one can be in approaching new music: a blank slate. I have heard the hype surrounding this album, but I have done fairly well to avoid other’s criticism of it or indeed the Decemberists’ work in general (Bob Boilen’s doesn’t count- he loves everything that he likes). I have high hopes.

The album’s first track, “The Singer Addresses His Audience”, typifies the way much of the album will work out–beginning with early-Dylan acoustic guitar and Colin Meloy’s focused and shaking tenor, and then slowly adding instruments until a glorious outro develops. Here, the song ends as a choir chants “to belong with you” over cascading drums and discordant guitars. Lyrically, the song seems to be very much like its title says–hitting upon some of the great fears of the artist, such as growing and changing as time goes on; fearing you’ll lose your fan base from this evolution: “we know you grew your arms around us/and hopes we wouldn’t change/but we had to change some”. As a musician, this is something I have been on both sides of–I’ve been terrified of being abandoned by the people who like my music for changing my style and also been furious when one of my favorite artists release something that is uncharacteristic of their previous work. It is that unsureness that cause all great music to stagnate. A great start; though it may have made more sense as a closer.

The following track, “Calvary Captain”, with its Dexys Midnight Runners groove and horn and violin riff, is conversely one of the least dynamically and lyrically exciting songs on the record, but it maintains a place as a satisfying and bombastic tune that will make a great theme song for something someday. It also shows off the rockier side of the record (shades of a far lighter Neutral Milk Hotel in “Holland, 1945”) that will continue to emanate throughout the album.

“Philomena” rings of Beach Boys circa 1965, still trapped in the adolescent ideals lyrically but forging musically into the grandeur and romanticism that “mature” pop offers. However, it’s hard to ignore the more blatant sexual undertones of the song. Strings and insistent girl group backing vocals don’t distract from lyrics like: “All I ever wanted in the world was just to live to see a naked girl, but I found I’ve grown quickly bored, I want more.” An interesting lyrical turn on an album that mostly veers away from sexual relationships but sounds like something that could play on the radio convincingly, in a timeless way, in that it could play today or any time back into the 1960s (excepting the aforementioned lyric, of course).

The standout of the record, to me, is the definably alt-rock “Make You Better”. The gorgeously arpeggiated electric guitar lines mix beautifully with the lyrics about wanting something and ultimately failing to get it. It almost stands as the payoff and comedown from “Philomena”‘s sexual awakening. “We’re not so starry-eyed anymore” sings Meloy forlornly, obviously not showing this as a good thing. The album’s themes seem to be hinging on sacrifice, settling for less, and making the best of what’s given, and here both the music and the lyrics emphasize this theme.

Other tracks don’t try so hard for seriousness. The only thing separating “Anti-Summersong” from a traditional fun-times pop country tune is the vaguely Irish-meets-Ben-Gibbard tone Meloy effects. A cover by any of the artists currently on the country charts would undoubtedly be a hit. The chorus here is hilarious, though the “see you later” backing vocals are a nice touch. Also on the light side is the obliquely-written “Easy Come, Easy Go”, which plays like a more off-kilter version of Fastball’s “The Way”- the mildly trippy psych-country that brings to mind an arid desert landscape squiggling off into the distance, much like the song does.

As the album winds to a close it returns to the serious tones from the beginning of the record. “Mistral”, with it’s satisfying organ and somehow simultaneously focused and laid-back groove, accentuated by great honky-tonk piano and the slightest hint of distortion, sounds like a world quietly falling apart. The lyrics again return to the themes of being exhausted and destroyed somewhere in the arid night in the imaginary desert crafted in the Decemberists’ music. Another standout, sure to get some kind of radio play in some capacity.

Following this upbeat tune is the album’s last ballad “12/17/12”. The song has wonderful male/female harmonies and a complex melody with the kind of sparse percussion I wish I could get away with in my own music. The harmonica solos are fitting of the tune, and the overall mood of this album’s crash course towards the crater of its end. That’s the really interesting thing about this album- absolutely everything fits in its place. The balance and blend, in addition to the choice of instrumentation, makes listening a pleasure for headphone listener but doesn’t overwhelm the passive listener. Rewarding in almost any environment.

“I am waiting. Should I be waiting?” Meloy sings over a bass that sits just on the edge of fuzz on the closer, “A Beginning Song”–a tune that builds and declines in perfect measure until it explodes into a glorious, all too short coda. One can only hope that live this beautiful section is extended and milked for its full worth–it really deserves to be. A final standout in an album awash in great songs.

In between these great songs, however, are more traditional folk numbers that unfortunately greatly reduce the album’s overall impact. I prefer the rockier, more upbeat tracks like “The Wrong Year” and “Make You Better” over more traditionally folky, lilting ballads like “Lake Song” and “‘Till the Water’s All Gone” that form much of the middle of the album. Such songs are the album’s week’s points, not filler, but failing to embrace the group’s obvious skills of mixing traditional instrumentation (violins, accordions) with chorused, tremolo-y, atmospheric guitars and punchy, attention-grabbing piano. Perhaps the group is trying to fight against the change that they state to be so inevitable on the first track of this very album. Personally, I cannot wait for them to embrace this change and become the alt-rock-fusion band that they are truly meant to be.

I have heard many albums upon which completing I can only say that I can’t wait for the next one. This is very much the case here. I cannot wait for the folk-alt-rock epic this band is destined to make (if they haven’t made it already–I need to listen to more of their albums to be sure). I highly recommend listening to this album, as while my own tastes have edged towards the alt-rock side of it, there are probably many who will prefer the folkier tunes of the work, which are quite good on their own merits. Either way, listen. I promise you won’t be disappointed, even if you’ve never heard of the band before. I know I wasn’t.

7.7/10

Favorites:
“The Singer Addresses The Audience”
“Make You Better”
“Mistral”
“A Beginning Song”