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Monday, May 6
The Indiana Daily Student

Decemberists strip it down on new LP

decemberists

The Decemberists’ new album, “The King is Dead,” journeys to the band’s folksy, Americana roots.

As a whole, I can’t really fault the band for any particular stylistic choice, but I never really felt a connection with the album. It maintains the sounds we’ve grown to know and love but in a much milder manner.

This album failed to draw me in the way “The Hazards of Love” and “The Crane Wife” did. The lack of a concept left me feeling disappointed. I wanted to like what I heard, but I just wasn’t dazzled beyond belief. Everything on the record merely sounds like the Decemberists without their unique edge of poignantly mixing sadness with joy.

They have demonstrated in previous albums their great skill for singing about shape-shifting forest men in a way that seems strangely relatable and authentic. That authenticity is lost in this album. It’s a great CD for a long drive, but none of the songs are terribly memorable.

“Don’t Carry It All” strives to begin the album with a bang, but it comes off a bit contrived. It further serves to introduce the central motifs of the album: coming home, looking back with nostalgia, community and getting in touch with the natural elements of life.

Then comes “Rise to Me,” a song that urges you to stand your ground and go back to your roots. I’m not really a fan of these kinds of preachy, hometown values, and it ends up coming on a little too heavy at times. “Rox in the Box” picks up the pace a bit and sounds probably the most like the Decemberists’ previous albums.

From start to finish, the album just seems to lack something. It’s sometimes unclear what that something is, but it’s evident that some of what made their old discs so good is now gone.

I respect the Decemberists’ unique musical choices, and they make “The King Is Dead” worth at least one listen. However, if you find yourself disappointed by the fact that the album comes with a strong sense of down-home values and deeply entrenched nostalgic tendencies, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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