The Decemberists - Her Majesty (2003)

Always being one step behind the cool people, just as the music world was preparing itself for the release of The Decemberists latest album - The Crane Wife - in October, I was just discovering the band's second album, Her Majesty, relased way back in 2003. Sometimes it can be good to be a little behind the pace. Her Majesty is a fantastic album, full of great tunes and great stories. That is The Decemberists' thing - or more so their leader, Colin Meloy's thing - they seem to write short stories that are set to music, more so than 'songs'. These story songs are all originals, however, they seem as if they could come from a different time, just as easily as this one. Dare I say, they are.... timeless. No, I probably shouldn't say that, because I'm pretty sure I heard that word used to describe Michael Bolton's latest album of Frank Sinatra covers. Here is a story that may go some way in describing what I hear when I listen to Her Majesty, by The Decemberists:
The year is 1803, and I have been convicted of stealing a loaf of bread from a baker in Baker Street, London. I am being transported to a convict ship, upon which I will be sent to Australia. As we near the dock, we pass a pub that is full to capacity with all the sorts you would expect to frequent an English pub in 1803: Dock workers, cutthroats, prostitutes, buxom waitresses who will freshen your drink, guv'nor. Everybody is three sheets to the wind and having a grand old time. There is a band in the corner singing shanties and folk songs about Chimbley Sweeps, The Solidiering Life, and your Red Right Ankle (which brings a tear to my eye). The song they are playing comes to an end, and someone yells "Play on, The Decemberists!" The last music I ever hear, before dying of scurvy on that dreaded convict ship, is that of The Decemberists.

Check out: www.decemberists.com