- Music
- 22 Jul 05
The dense indie-rock of The Decemberists feels as revolutionary as the Russian dissidents after which they are named.
Depending on which way you look at it, The Decemberists’ name is loaded with connotation and imagery. Frontman Colin Meloy explains that, though named after the Russian revolutionary group who staged an unsuccessful coup in St. Petersburg in 1826, the Portland five-piece are not out to wager a war on the musical mainstream at large.
“It’s not really deliberate in that sense,” he proffers. “I think it would be conceited to say we’re staging a revolution with our music. We’re a bunch of polite, calm people, really. We appropriate the story of The Decemberists like we do most historical facts. It’s about the month too…the idea that people would be represented by something so sad and grey. There’s something really dramatic about it.
A December revolution was probably doomed from the get go.”
Given the almost sombre nature of the current album Picaresque, it comes as little surprise to find that Meloy’s favourite places are wintry and grey. Currently on a whistle-stop trip around Ireland, he maintains that here and Russia are his must-see hotspots. As you do.
“I’m much more of a fall person than a summer person, which is why I’m vacationing here and not in Mexico,” he laughs.
It’s not all fun and games however; Meloy also plans to pay a visit to Rough Trade HQ on his travels, the label that have decided to release Picaresque in Europe.
“I grew up an avid music fan, so I had mythologies built up around Rough Trade,” he admits. “Now it’s like, ‘Wow, Geoff Travis, who signed The Smiths, is e-mailing me!’ I’d be a fool to say I wasn’t excited about it.”
In keeping with their antiquated, understated sound, The Decemberists found themselves recording their latest opus in a local church/community centre.
“We’d been talking of recording ideas, and we wanted to do it in a weird place,” he recalls. “We suffered before doing it in a studio, it felt political, and we got a bit of stage fright.
“So we found a small church, set up our own studio and recorded in there. It was great sonically, and felt really casual. Because there was no instrument room or monitor room, everyone had to be there.”
The approach certainly worked; such is their success Stateside that they're about to leave the legendary Kill Rock Stars label and sign to a major.
“The spiel we’ve been getting is that they’d be supportive of the decisions we’d make,” he shrugs. “I think they tell that to everybody. We’ve developed ourselves so we’re viable in the industry, so I don’t think any label could mess with us. If they tried to change us into a radio band it would be a flop. We wouldn’t be a good radio band, and we’re not that attractive collectively.
“I think the labels realise that we’ve drawn fans from being uncompromising and doing things on our own terms,” he concludes. “I think we’re eternally shackled to creating our own music…no matter how uncool it becomes.”