Autumn de Wilde
Over the past 15 years, Portland, Ore.-based indie rockers the Decemberists have established themselves as one of the most consistently inventive acts in modern music. From their beginnings as baroque poppers to their current incarnation as folk rock heroes, frontman Colin Meloy and company have been identifiable by their hyper-literate, lushly produced songs, many of which are accompanied by often hilarious music videos.
In advance of their Sept. 30 show at Overture Hall, Isthmus offers a crash course on the band’s varied catalog, from their 2002 full-length debut Castaways and Cutouts to this year’s excellent What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World.
“Leslie Anne Levine” from Castaways and Cutouts, 2002
The first song on their first album, “Leslie Anne Levine” is just the type of anachronistic yarn that Colin Meloy loves to spin. Set in the 1800s, it tells the story of a girl who was “birthed far too soon, born at nine and dead at noon.” Sonically, it set the template for the band’s future work — its accordion-laden folk melody can be heard in similar variations on pretty much every one of the band’s albums.
“Los Angeles, I’m Yours” from Her Majesty The Decemberists, 2003
L.A. has served as the inspiration for countless songs, both positive and negative, but none has represented the city quite like this one. For one thing, the Decemberists are based out of Portland, so it’s not really an ode to a hometown. And lyrics like “how I abhor this place / its sweet and bitter taste has left me wretched, retching on all fours” show not only a strong disdain for the city, but a begrudging enjoyment. It is classic Decemberists — cynicism tempered by optimism.
“16 Military Wives” from Picaresque, 2005
This one is noteworthy for a couple of reasons. First, “16 Military Wives” is one of the band’s most noticeably contemporary songs, written by Meloy in protest of the Iraq War and its subsequent media coverage. Second, the song is accompanied by a music video that’s set in a comically intense Model U.N. session, with Meloy (representing the U.S.) bullying smaller countries relentlessly. It is arguably the band’s most political song to date, and also one of its best sing-alongs.
“O Valencia!” from The Crane Wife, 2006
Meloy is a true storyteller, and it’s never more apparent than in this tale of star-crossed lovers and grisly murder, written with an attention to detail that makes Jonathan Franzen seem inattentive. A spat over the video led to a “guitar solo-off” between Decemberists guitarist Chris Funk and Stephen Colbert on national television. It was probably the biggest media coverage the band had received up to that point and truly a milestone in Decemberists lore.
“The Rake’s Song” from The Hazards of Love, 2009
The Hazards of Love is an interesting point in the band’s timeline. It’s probably the most quintessential Decemberists album they’ve ever released, a lengthy rock opera about forbidden love. It was met with a lukewarm response by critics, many of whom shied away from its bombastic tendencies, but the band is often at their best when they embrace theatricality. “The Rake’s Song” is the tale of the story’s villain, a cad who murdered his three kids, set to thumping, grimy prog-folk. Say what you will about the album, but the band knows how to invoke a mood.
“Calamity Song” from The King Is Dead, 2011
On The King Is Dead, the band began to veer into a different direction, all but abandoning the theatrics for a more bare-bones folk rock sound. And while “Calamity Song” isn’t the best on the album (that would be the mournfully optimistic “Rise to Me”) or even the most well-known (that’s the Grammy-nominated “Down by the Water”), it does show the Decemberists’ whip-smart sense of humor better than anything else. The music video shows the band observing a disastrous game of “eschaton,” the made-up schoolyard game devised by David Foster Wallace in his magnum opus Infinite Jest.
“12/17/12” from What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World, 2015
If there’s one thing that could be said about Colin Meloy and the rest of the Decemberists, it’s that they’re really good at drawing light out of darkness. “12/17/12” — the date of the Sandy Hook massacre — is Meloy baring it all. At the time, his wife Carson Ellis was pregnant with their second child, and Meloy struggled to reconcile his hope and joy with the grief the families were experiencing at the loss of their own children. Ultimately, he reconciles the two, bringing his child into a world that’s both terrible and beautiful, occasionally very depressing but still filled with possibility, just like many a Decemberists song.
