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missroseroseI've spent a fair amount of time listening to this album over the past couple of days. Like most of the The Decemberists' offerings, it's fairly multilayered and rewards close listening. That said, my reactions to it are somewhat mixed.
In what will probably come as no surprise to anyone remotely familiar with The Decemberists, The Hazards of Love tells a story - this one of
a medieval maiden who, while traipsing through the taiga (Dictionary.com tells me this is "the coniferous evergreen forests of subarctic lands, covering vast areas of northern North America and Eurasia"; I guess "forest" was too pedestrian. Oddly, I've seen a number of places transcribe the word as "tiger", which makes for an amusing if nonsensical image), stops to help a wounded faun. As this is a fantasy, I'm sure no one will be surprised to hear that he transforms into a young man who bears her away to be ravished (level of consent unclear, although given the romanticized tone it doesn't seem likely there was much protestation) and impregnated. When she discovers her state, she returns to the forest to seek her lover and they are reunited but (surprise, surprise) various forces conspire to keep them from finding lasting happiness together.
A large part of the cognitive dissonance I have with this album stems from the storytelling. As I'm sure you've all gathered from my previous entries on the subject, stories are important to me, and a well-told story will excuse a lot of other deficiencies in my mind. The Hazards of Love, unfortunately, is anything but that - the lyrics are opaque and often overwrought and pretentious, the characters are paper-thin, etc. Supposedly Colin Meloy originally conceived of the story as a musical or rock opera but decided later that it would work better as a concept album; as Brian pointed out, however, "musical-turned-concept-album" seems to often be artist-speak for "narrative laziness". And the decision to employ two very distinct guest vocalists for the female roles while Meloy does both male parts adds significantly to the confusion; Meloy's reedy vocals don't bother me the way they apparently do some folk, but he just plain doesn't have the range to convincingly portray two separate roles.
Musically, however, the album fares much better. It holds its influences high for all to see, and the combination of Led Zeppelin-esque medieval folk motifs and The Who-inspired power chords works surprisingly well. I especially love the bluesy riffs given to the Forest Queen; Shara Worden's throaty, full-bodied voice lends itself well to the style, and Meloy seems to have written the music to show off her voice (even if it does borrow rather heavily from the "Acid Queen" number in Tommy). Also oddly sweet is the use of accordion in "Isn't It A Lovely Night?", which seems like it would be jarring but actually fits quite well with the track's firefly-ephemeral romantic quality. And the children's chorus on "The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)", when the infanticidal Rake's ghostly offspring confront him with his crimes, sounds like nothing so much as a musical sequel to The Gashlycrumb Tinies, which is great fun if you're an Addams Family-loving black humor connoisseur like me. It's not that the album never missteps - the use of twangy country-pop slide guitar on the last track especially irks me - but the disparate styles hold together remarkably well, and the music fills in the emotional connection that the narrative lacks.
In the end, I think, it's that last point that makes me really enjoy the album as much as I have. The narrative might be obtuse and the characters undeveloped, but on a pure archetypal level the music resonates with me. Even though my adult cynicism scoffs at its unbridled romanticism (anyone who's spent any time in the woods can tell you a "bed of boughs and thistledown" isn't anywhere near as comfortable as poetic lyrics make it sound), the bit of me that's still thirteen years old and thinks fauns and forest queens and ghosts and doomed romance are the greatest things in the world absolutely adores it. And when it comes to music, enjoyment stems most from emotional response; I guess that underneath my prickly cynicism I really am a hopeless romantic. B+
In what will probably come as no surprise to anyone remotely familiar with The Decemberists, The Hazards of Love tells a story - this one of
a medieval maiden who, while traipsing through the taiga (Dictionary.com tells me this is "the coniferous evergreen forests of subarctic lands, covering vast areas of northern North America and Eurasia"; I guess "forest" was too pedestrian. Oddly, I've seen a number of places transcribe the word as "tiger", which makes for an amusing if nonsensical image), stops to help a wounded faun. As this is a fantasy, I'm sure no one will be surprised to hear that he transforms into a young man who bears her away to be ravished (level of consent unclear, although given the romanticized tone it doesn't seem likely there was much protestation) and impregnated. When she discovers her state, she returns to the forest to seek her lover and they are reunited but (surprise, surprise) various forces conspire to keep them from finding lasting happiness together.A large part of the cognitive dissonance I have with this album stems from the storytelling. As I'm sure you've all gathered from my previous entries on the subject, stories are important to me, and a well-told story will excuse a lot of other deficiencies in my mind. The Hazards of Love, unfortunately, is anything but that - the lyrics are opaque and often overwrought and pretentious, the characters are paper-thin, etc. Supposedly Colin Meloy originally conceived of the story as a musical or rock opera but decided later that it would work better as a concept album; as Brian pointed out, however, "musical-turned-concept-album" seems to often be artist-speak for "narrative laziness". And the decision to employ two very distinct guest vocalists for the female roles while Meloy does both male parts adds significantly to the confusion; Meloy's reedy vocals don't bother me the way they apparently do some folk, but he just plain doesn't have the range to convincingly portray two separate roles.
Musically, however, the album fares much better. It holds its influences high for all to see, and the combination of Led Zeppelin-esque medieval folk motifs and The Who-inspired power chords works surprisingly well. I especially love the bluesy riffs given to the Forest Queen; Shara Worden's throaty, full-bodied voice lends itself well to the style, and Meloy seems to have written the music to show off her voice (even if it does borrow rather heavily from the "Acid Queen" number in Tommy). Also oddly sweet is the use of accordion in "Isn't It A Lovely Night?", which seems like it would be jarring but actually fits quite well with the track's firefly-ephemeral romantic quality. And the children's chorus on "The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)", when the infanticidal Rake's ghostly offspring confront him with his crimes, sounds like nothing so much as a musical sequel to The Gashlycrumb Tinies, which is great fun if you're an Addams Family-loving black humor connoisseur like me. It's not that the album never missteps - the use of twangy country-pop slide guitar on the last track especially irks me - but the disparate styles hold together remarkably well, and the music fills in the emotional connection that the narrative lacks.
In the end, I think, it's that last point that makes me really enjoy the album as much as I have. The narrative might be obtuse and the characters undeveloped, but on a pure archetypal level the music resonates with me. Even though my adult cynicism scoffs at its unbridled romanticism (anyone who's spent any time in the woods can tell you a "bed of boughs and thistledown" isn't anywhere near as comfortable as poetic lyrics make it sound), the bit of me that's still thirteen years old and thinks fauns and forest queens and ghosts and doomed romance are the greatest things in the world absolutely adores it. And when it comes to music, enjoyment stems most from emotional response; I guess that underneath my prickly cynicism I really am a hopeless romantic. B+
