Jukebox valiantly attempts to draw forth admissions of former Decemberists fandom, fails…
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Rebecca A. Gowns: When did The Decemberists turn into Donny and Marie?
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Iain Mew: For all that The Decemberists’ elaborate musical cosplay wasn’t to all tastes, it found ways to turn their limitations to successes, not least in the way Colin Meloy’s reedy voice served character work. Now that they’re playing dull conventional indie and their only sign of individuality is stilted phrasing of the lyrics to get to the title, they sound both boring and incompetent.
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Alfred Soto: Verse chorus verse. Bridge. Drums introduced at the point of maximum impact. Piano line repeating the vocal melody. Rhetorical questions aimed at a difficult woman. Would-be pop for fans of classicist pop, no question, with Colin Meloy even sounding like Freedy Johnston. Manicured like the fingernails of a corpse.
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David Sheffieck: The historical fetishism is what chased me away from the band in the first place, so it’s refreshing to hear The Decemberists delving into the more straightforward territory that used to balance their Victorian death dramas, even if the result isn’t particularly immediate. Made me go back and listen to “July, July!” for the first time in years. Then made me wish I hadn’t: it was only a reminder that what this is missing is any sense of the sprightliness and fun that characterized the band’s early-period work, replaced instead by overproduction and a finely-sanded smoothness broken only by Meloy’s voice.
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Thomas Inskeep: The sound of Colin Meloy’s voice makes me want to punch him in the throat. His band doesn’t help matters, plod plod plod.
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Micha Cavaseno: I thought these guys were into big huge arrangements and like, complex songs? This music has less caloric value than celery. Colin Meloy’s voice remains this flat, listless thing that embodies nothing but bland self-assurance. Perhaps this is a sign that the Decemberists need to take more permanent hibernations in the near future.
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Patrick St. Michel: I’m not sure anyone is clamoring for more shanties about sailors or prog-rock Shakespeare, but give me the goofiest after-school drama productions over this.
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