The Decemberists | “The King Is Dead” | Album Review

Story by Mitch McCann 

| Published Jan 18, 2011

After the lofty, mythical journey that was “The Hazards of Love,” Colin Meloy and the Decemberists needed a change of pace. With a career essentially made on crafting long, lyrical tales that ebb and flow, “The King Is Dead” is a clear counterpoint. Ten standalone tracks totaling a little over 40 minutes of eclectic, almost straight folk-rock.

Serving as a direct foil to “Hazards,” the band’s attempt at a modern Greek epic, which opens like the cracking of a forgotten dusty tome, “The King Is Dead” bursts forth, proclaiming a new age for both the Decemberists and their loyal followers.

The Portland natives flawlessly evoke classic Americana, with names the likes of Neil Young (mostly for the harmonica, forgiving the whole “Canadian” thing) or Tom Petty easily springing to mind on tracks like “Don’t Carry It All” or the rustic, southern “Rox in the Box.” Within the folds of the record, you’ve got your Hank Williams lonesome cowboy warbles, “Rise To Me,” a few modern melodies, “January Hymn” and “Calamity Song,” all topped off by accordion/harmonica cranked anthem, “Down By The Water” and album closer “Dear Avery”, the finest Decemberists ballad since the days of “Picaresque.”

Unfortunately, these semi-timeless tunes may include an expiration date. “The King Is Dead,” clearly an impassioned diversion for Meloy, lacks elements to sink your teeth into. Despite guest appearances by R.E.M. axeman Pete Buck and folk icon Gillian Welch, lead single “Down By The Water” is less than the typical Decemberists fan can expect. While the ambition of “Crane Wife” or “Hazards” may have been too much to muster, “The King Is Dead” may have less staying power than Meloy’s shanties of yore.

Meloy forsakes the 18th century England feel and has traded up for solid country influences, yet still maintains the token rock presence and hit-or-miss old world diction. Confident, twangy strings replace antiquated arrangements and stretch the record to its fullest rootsy limits to present the long-established Decemberists in a fond new light. Only time will tell whether this effort is digested or spat out by those who have become complacent in their Decemberists listening habits.