Consumer Guide Album

The Decemberists: The Hazards of Love [Capitol, 2009]
Derided in such varied precincts as Pitchfork, Blender, and Entertainment Weekly when it stuck its head out of the quicksand last March, The Hazards of Love looked to be where Colin Meloy's obvious bad points permanently swallowed his subtle good points. But still the thing finished top 30 in The Village Voice's big critics' poll, so I can remain silent no longer. Except insofar as Colin Meloy's antiquarianism permits him to use such words as "withers" and "blackguard" (which he pronounces "black-guard"--real pseudo-Elizabethans say "blaggard," Colin), evokes online gaming and crypto-genteel '60s folk ensembles more than it does any kind of literature. He has the conceit to elevate melodies that are the musical equivalent of doggerel into mini-motives. His plot is so preposterous and unempathetic it's more the appearance of a plot, or an elaborate joke about a plot. And yet some fool in Britannia's highly respectable Observer thinks this album is "as dazzling as it is beautiful." Be vigilant. Be ever vigilant. C