Tracklist:

1. The Crane Wife 3
2. The Island-Come & See/The Landlord’s Daughter/You’ll Not Feel The Drowning
3. Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
4. O Valencia!
5. The Perfect Crime #2
6. When The War Came
7. Shankhill Butchers
8. Summersong
9. The Crane Wife 1 and 2
10. Sons and Daughters

When last we left the good ship Decemberists, Master Colin Meloy had taken advantage of a carefully-worded off-hire clause, writ by himself, incidentally, in which he (for a second time, mind, in as many years) had given himself permission to disembark said ship for a solo jaunt around the country, singing the songs of a British folk singer, accompanied only by a rather strange woman with the name of Veirs, all while simultaneously preparing for the production of his first named offspring; this, whilst the ship’s remaining crew had been instructed merely to rest and repair in preparation for its Master’s eventual return.

The second mate, the boatswain and the pumpman, the chief steward of the ship— none batted so much as an eye upon receiving the latest directives. Able-bodied seamen though they all were, they knew to place their utmost faith and confidence in their captain, for, whenever they recalled his previous actions— naming his woman the ship’s artist-in-residence, writing a book on the Replacements’ legendary Let It Be, touring the country singing somewhat off-putting Morrissey b-sides, to say nothing of the music he (the Master himself) had writ— they quickly realized that he had never let them down before. And so, they stayed alongside the ship, waiting patiently for his return and for his guidance.

By the fall of 2006 (prior, to, technically, but you’ll indulge me, please), Meloy had returned, armed with what must have seemed to the crew to resemble, well, ballast. “Several of the songs are based on a Japanese folk tale,” he surely exclaimed, which, understandably, must have dampened the crew’s spirits on first hearing. “And I’ve got not one, but at least two song cycles of more than ten minutes each,” he followed, hopping up the gangway excitedly. And yet despite the possible grumbles, the initial, troubling appearances, no black cargo was this— for the output the Master had brought aboard in its raw form was, in fact, colored to resemble some of the most lucrative capacity the ship had in the past carried— materiel that, in truth, quite resembled “The Tain,” as well as the more intricate moments from the Decemberists’ last voyage.

So the crew set forth, quickly thereafter, to once again put lyrics that would have made even the Dread Richey Edwards shudder to their own exquisite tones. The Master’s words, by right, should hardly have had the potential to carry the attention of any but the most devoted lexicologist. And yet, as he had done in the past, the Master had once again turned gold from straw, as it were. The beauty of “The Crane Wife” and “The Island” cycles could not have been more different from one another, the first recalling a cross of “On the Bus Mall” with “Goodbye Blue Sky,” the second another full-bore progstravaganza (ed. – I’ll permit it, but ne’er againe), but the two together anchored a collection that contained more than enough to justify the ship’s new voyage.

Forgive all this folderol and dross; the point here should be clearer. The Decemberists could easily have gone hard aground, here. Without so much as a Jacob’s ladder to throw to neophytes and assorted junior-level crew, The Crane Wife, as laid out by the full crew, is not an easy listen, per se. And this has already caused much consternation, certainly, within the headquarters of shipowner Capitol Records.

But this fear is misplaced, for The Crane Wife is a deeply rewarding journey, regardless of the apparent degree of difficulty. In spite of the repetition of “The Perfect Crime 2” and the sludge of “When the War Came,” which in truth do much to slow the momentum, there is no need to talk of salvage. The gorgeous “Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then),” sung with the aforementioned Laura Veirs, would alone be enough to justify the collection, as could be said of several of the other works included therein. The previously road-tested “O Valencia” and “Shankhill Butchers” make welcome re-appearances to perfect the overall tone of the album.

“Sons and Daughters” may stand proudest of all, a sure set closer in the coming months away from home. Shanties have famously seen their day in the sun on Decemberist voyages past, but rounds? This crew, to my knowledge, has never before been tasked with such vocal duties. Yet Meloy’s compatriots earn their keep, here, keeping time, painting tales over tales, singing over pizzicato strings, all while the waves grow larger and larger with every repeated verse. It is in effect exultation, and at the very least a complete joy to listen to, whether it be on the docks or the deck itself.

Meloy’s quartermasterian exploits in guiding the Decemberists are becoming the grist of legend, more so with each passing year. Would that more seaworthy ships brought such valuable cargo, that they contained such talented crewmen, or that they, through their simple passages, brought so much joy to so many, even after these e’er increasing years traveling the glistening waters.

MP3:
Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)
Sons and Daughters

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