Picaresque (2005)

I owe it to myself to look further into other albums by the Decemberists, but for whatever reason—maybe because it was the first by them I heard—Picaresque, the band’s third, is the one I go to when I’m looking for a certain flailing acoustic thrash groove partially out of Jeff Mangum that does not let up. The Decemberists manage that just right, producing songs of five minutes and more that roll for the horizon with commitment. You’re likely to find sailing vessels and peasants all over the place, because mostly we’re living in the old world here. “The Infanta” (5:08) is a great way to kick off these proceedings, thunderous, soaring, promising. And for the most part the band and album come through on that promise. Colin Meloy is a creative writing major from Montana who moved to Portland and started a band. He writes all the songs and sings and thrashes on the rhythm guitar. The vocals are somewhat nasal and distinct, as if he were just coming from a session at the library and weary, but I got used to them. And he’s not the only one who sings—all members of this five-piece chip in backing vocals and harmonies, including the female drummer (Rachel Blumberg) and the female keyboardist (Jenny Conlee). The total effect can be beautiful and rousing and these songs can be full of great drama too, like the best olde folk sources and murder ballads (though they stray occasionally into the bombastic for brief moments). They are mainly structured to tell stories, especially in the longer ones such as “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” (8:46) and “The Bagman’s Gambit” (7:03). I’m not sure about specific folk sources, which I usually assume are Anglo-Saxon if they’re in English, but some of this music feels Slav to me or possibly from elsewhere. The high points are either tuneful or locked in a groove or both: “The Infanta,” “The Sporting Life,” the romantic “We Both Go Down Together,” “The Engine Driver.” Whither the Decemberists today? They’re up to nine albums now but the gaps between have been getting longer since 2011. Honestly, I can’t wait to get back to their catalog for sure—but part of me worries about disappointment, forgetting how reliable Picaresque is. I must remember I will always have it.