Some Songs Considered

“The Crane Wife 3” – The Decemberists
(Words/music: Colin Meloy, available on The Crane Wife, Capitol 2006) 

I’ve realized that loving songs shares a lot with romantic love. This probably says more about my own relationship with music than it does about love itself (that sound you’re hearing is the simultaneous nodding of every woman with whom I’ve been involved), but it makes sense given I spent the bulk of my teenage dating years devouring records.  My point is that just like meeting someone, songs have their initial obvious charms.  In this case, it might be a memorable lyric or a particularly exciting bridge or even just a really catchy melody.  However, there are lots of clever lines, stunning bridges, and catchy melodies out there; the songs I end up loving reveal different aspects of itself over time.  What was once a catchy song ends up being one with an offbeat chord progression or interesting instrument deep in the mix.

Tonight I was in the right mood to hear one of these tiny discoveries.  While “The Crane Wife 3,” a song I love on an album I rarely listen to, played, something nondescript caught my attention right before the third verse.  I paused it, grabbed my headphones(which are still on even though I’m not playing any music), and backed up the track.  Sure enough, right after the little glockenspiel melody at 2:07, there’s this odd bent guitar note right before Colin Meloy starts singing again.  I always loved the way that this song gathered steam, building from that solitary acoustic guitar to a fully augmented band by the end, but never noticed this little tic before.  To the best of my knowledge, there isn’t any slide guitar in the rest of the song.  Perhaps it’s not played with a slide and just a bent note, but it’s an anomaly in a song I thought I otherwise knew completely well.  It’s not the purest form of love deepening itself (more on that another time, I suppose), but it’s the type of serendipitous discovery that makes me wish I had more time to listen to older records on a more frequent basis.

More on The Decemberists: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“The Engine Driver” – Colin Meloy
(Words/music: Colin Meloy, available on Colin Meloy Sings Live!, Kill Rock Stars 2008)

I surprise people with my tepid reaction to the Decemberists.  I think they are a fine band with a few superb moments, but some people expect that because I studied literature (and teach it to high school kids) that Colin Meloy’s “literary” style of songs should suit me.  I’ve had this discussion a couple times and it usually leads into the revelation that music – be it melody, rhythm, or just sound in general – captures me far more often than words.  I’m not saying words aren’t important, but a song needs to be more than just a well written poem to be a successful song.  Specifically, a story needs more than a gripping plot to become a song – it needs a purpose for the medium.  Perhaps this is why I like a few Decemberists songs yet struggle to sit through an entire album.  I’m fine with an album-length narrative thread, but at times the individual songs suffer under the weight of the full-length endeavor.

I tend to enjoy Meloy’s more focused songs – his “short stories” to his “novels, if you will.  I prefer to enjoy each song as its own individual entity rather than the means to a greater end; I’d prefer to hear a collection of assorted stories rather than one single narrative.  Perhaps this is why I like Meloy’s solo live album so much – without being bound to an overarching theme, Meloy’s songs shine even in this minimalistic setting.  Specifically, I’ve always liked “The Engine Driver” as a bit of commentary.  In it, Meloy sketches out a couple different characters, giving brief introductions to their physical descriptions and their circumstance.  No matter how many characters he creates, his narrator (perhaps Meloy, perhaps not) returns to himself.  When he sings that he’s spent “pages upon pages / trying to rid you from my bones” it could be an unrequited love.  However, it also could be about the artist’s need to create – in this case, the writer’s need to share a story – meeting with a creative impasse.  Meloy’s narrator keeps sketching out these characters yet can’t seem to flesh them out to his liking.  It’s difficult for writers of all skill levels – letting an idea escape your brain even if it’s not as perfect as the original thought.  When a writer creates the character he or she pictures perfectly, it flows freely.  It’s these imperfect moments that are hard to let out of the revision stage.  While sometimes these ideas become as good as the effortless ones (think of how many times you’ve read an interview where a songwriter says that the hit single “almost didn’t make the album”), it takes a degree of trust in the idea to let it live in its “flawed” state.  In this sense, the author has to love it enough to “let it go” and trust that it’s still worth reading even if it isn’t the original idea.  It’s an interesting spin on a love song and good advice for writers, even if it falls into the “easier said than done” category.

More on Colin Meloy: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm