Picaresque

by

The Decemberists

Edit

The obscure word "Picaresque" is an accurate title for the third full-length album by the Decemberists. If you want to get technical, the word refers to humorous adventure stories, starring roguish antiheroes. Considering the folky pirate sound of the Decemberists' latest -- and best -- album, this seems an appropriate title.

Not that folky-pirate is a NEW sound for them; it's characterized their past music, except for the richly mythic "Tain EP." But the Decemberists amp up their instruments in "Picaresque," making the melodies bigger and louder than before. A few songs like "Espionage" harken back to their previous stripped-down sound, with mainly Colin Meloy and his acoustic guitar. But these are actually the minority here.

From the very first song, the pulse-racing percussive "Infanta," it becomes clear that the Decemberists haven't changed their sound so much as made it faster and louder. Which, it seems, was just the punch that the Decemberists needed in their prior albums, taking their music from good to really, really good. With this amped-up sound, their music seems larger than life.

The songs are also more eclectic than in prior albums, dabbling in accordion sea shantys, bouncy classic-pop, percussive rock, and mild acoustic ballads. The music still centers on Colin Meloy's acoustic guitar, and the lyrics have a feeling of old-world grandeur, sepia photos and dusty literarature. But it's also getting a bit more complex, with strings, drums and accordion often taking center stage.

And the Decemberists get to expand their songs to topics other than, er, acrobats, ships and so forth. For example, they delicate step into anti-war turf with "Sixteen Military Wives," as well as a charming little ditty about a kid having athletic problems: "And father had had such hopes/for a son who would take the ropes/and fulfill all his old athletic aspirations/but apparently now there's some complications..."

One of the quibbles I always had with the Decemberists was Colin Meloy's voice -- it's nasal and a bit thin, a bit reminiscent of Jeff Mangum. But somewhere between this and their prior EP, Meloy has learned how to rein in his vocals. He's not great, but he's definitely improved. In fact, he increasingly reminds me of Jeff Mangum or Kevin Barnes, two imperfect voices that fit in with their music regardless.

"Picaresque" is hampered by a couple of somber acoustic numbers, but the newer, faster sound suits this band wonderfully. "Picaresque" is definitely picturesque.

If there was ever such a thing as 'theatrical folk pop', Picaresque would certainly fall into that category. There are the comparisons to Neutral Milk Hotel, but I would also place The Decemberists somewhere in between that and psych-folk artists like Mull Historical Society and Badly Drawn Boy. The main storyteller/vocalist/songwriter is Colin Melloy, a balladeer who weaves his tales amidst a backdrop of strings, acoustic guitars, and organs. Melloy's nasal-type vocals straddle Lee Mavers and Colin McIntyre, but that's almost secondary to the story he wants to tell, the picture he wants to paint. 'Picaresque' is catchy, safe, middle of the road pop/rock, and although it doesn't exactly push the envelope of music experimentation, music is also about telling stories, which is what 'Picaresque' and The Decemberists are, inheriting the tradition of story tellers, a folk-rock escapade guaranteed to brighten up your day.