Chaotic genius, minus genius

Throughout the Decemberists' career, they've fit each record into a series of sailors' tales -- stories featuring gloomy memories of mariners' travels. For the Portland, OR, band's fourth LP (its first on a major label), the U.S.S., or should I say, "Her Majesty's Decemberists" returns from the Pacific Rim to share the tale of the Crane Wife.\nIn short, this Japanese folktale introduces a poor man who attains love and wealth through an act of compassion but loses it in an eventual turn toward greed. Lead singer Colin Meloy's rendition is far more eloquent than mine. His lyrical nimbleness and ability to poetically weave stories through brooding melodies are as strong as ever in this work, rivaling indie storytelling greats like Drive-By Truckers.\nThe Decemberists have always seemed most comfortable dealing with somber subject matter, but never has one of their albums been so absorbed in misery and death than The Crane Wife. Nearly every song, even the upbeat efforts, has a strict return to the mortality theme, like a man whose entire life is sprinkled by inescapable dreary memories.\nThe band was able to adequately tell these stories in prior albums, like Castaways and Cutouts and Picaresque, without compromising the work's flow. In these albums, the band throws listeners through a well-mixed roller coaster of climaxes and bleakness. The Crane Wife appears to be conceived as a piece of chaotic genius, but it came out simply chaotic. The opening 20 minutes of the album include a three-movement, nearly 13-minute epic of a song, "The Island." It's quite the chore for any listener, but hearing Meloy's tale of a pillager finding love is almost worth the effort.\nOverall, Crane Wife's greatest departure from earlier Decemberists' works is its heaviness. Producers Tucker Martine and Chris Walla, the former of Death Cab for Cutie, turn up the amps but are careful not to completely overpower the band's signature accordion and steel pedal guitar. Still, the band's strengths play to these delicate, brooding tones, and songs with too much electric guitar, like "The Perfect Crime No. 2," come across a bit clumsy.\nThe Decemberists succeed in matching their new Capitol Records contract with more palatable compositions -- not to say that they are selling out. In fact, indie fans can take solace in knowing the album's utter disjointedness makes it one of their least accessible works. And it's probably just as well because they're at their best when sailing under the radar.