Review Summary: Another worthy entry into The Decemberists impressively consistent catalogue, but not the benchmark for 2011 many of us hoped for.
The line between ambition and pretentiousness is a fine one, but when the balance of the two is perfected the results can be spectacular. Ambition after all is a key ingredient to any great art, and while not as desirable, pretentiousness is, for me at least, a trait which should be admired rather than detested, especially in music. Surely it’s far better to see someone trying to make something totally mindblowing and regrettably falling short than simply settling in a comfort zone or re-hashing some of their – or someone else's – earlier work? Few albums in recent memory have demonstrated this point better than The Decemberists’ The Hazards Of Love, a record which split both fans and critics in the way in the way that only a ludicrous sprawling concept album can. The plot, which involved a mythical Margaret falling for a forest dwelling shape shifter bordered on silliness, and the various interludes, reprisals and the presence of children’s choirs left the whole thing a tangled and overblown mess at the worst of times. Against all the odds, though, they actually managed to make it work. This was in no small part down to the storytelling genius of leader Colin Meloy, but it was the boundless ambition behind the record which made it such an engaging and fulfilling listen. They had set out to make a masterpiece, and in the end only missed out by a narrow margin.
In fairness, The Decemberists have never been content with simply being an indie-folk band, and had made very deliberate strides to set themselves apart from the crowd in their four previous albums, but the sheer scale of their fifth made it extravagant even by their standards. How they would follow it up has been an issue of debate ever since, but few doubted that the band would continue to push the genres boundaries with their next release. Except they haven’t. In fact, the album they have given us would be described for most as
safe. Clocking in at forty minutes, The King Is Dead is comfortably the bands shortest LP, while none of it’s songs reach the six minute mark which they have routinely exceeded in the past. On top of that, all of the songs are stylistically similar, and while they have never exactly introduced new sounds there is certainly nothing here that hasn’t been done before. For most other artists, a record like this would seem like “just another [insert band here] album” but for The Decemberists this is actually new territory, so it would be unfair to call it entirly risk-free.
Musically, The King Is Dead is quite a departure from The Hazards Of Love, with the guitars which dominated the latter generally taking a backseat, while mandolins, harmonicas and accordions amongst others take front stage. The result is a far more folk-tinged sound, which represents a return of sorts to their earlier material and another nod to their various influences. Never ones to hide their inspiration, the band also enlist the help of R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck in three of the albums tracks, and it’s his jangly guitar which lights up late the otherwise ordinary 'This Is Why We Fight', recalling his band during their earlier I.R.S. days. The fact that Meloy’s voice is so reminiscent of Michael Stipe’s only provides the comparison with more fuel, not least on 'Down By The Water', which for all it’s excellence is undoubtedly similar to the Document classic 'The One I Love'. Surprisingly, though, the most R.E.M.-esque moment here is the Buck-free 'Calamity Song', which replicates the sunny country vibe found on Out Of Time with plenty of success. Thankfully, not all of the highlights come when Meloy and co. try to emulate their heroes. 'Rox In The Box' is probably the folkiest song to appear on the record, and it’s energetic arrangement and effective chorus make it arguably the strongest here.
Sadly, though, not all of the tracks reach such heights and there are too many instances where the band succeed in reaching nothing but mediocrity. The likes of 'Rise To Me' and 'June Hymn' for example are pleasant enough songs, but simply don’t have enough energy or sparkle to elevate them above that level. Granted, these songs were recorded less than two years after their last album, so the time period the band had for writing would have been relatively short, but given the albums brief run time you can’t help but feel a little let down. Throughout the record you also get the impression that the band are functioning in auto-pilot somewhat, and there are no points where you feel that they are pushing the boat out and taking risks in the manner with which they have become accustomed to. The production also seems a little weak given the wide variety of instruments on show here, and as a result the record can sound a little flat and plain when it should be lush and warm.
It’s a shame really, as you get the impression that The Decemberists are one of the few bands out there capable of making a true masterpiece, and while such expectation may seem unfair, The King Is Dead is unfortunately disappointing. It’s certainly a solid record, with it’s fair share of thoroughly enjoyable moments, but its rather conservative nature means that it is rarely given the chance to excel in the way that you would hope. So where do the band go from here? A return down the less conventional route would be welcomed by myself, but while you may assume that the reception this record receives will dictate their future, the bands’ track record of unpredictability means that nothing is for certain. If their next album impresses however, it’s a fair bet that the phrase “return to form” will be flashed around, and while that may seem a little tough on this record, it would be fair scene that it will inevitably become one of the less loved chapters of The Decemberists discography.
