For about two weeks straight I was listening to The Decemberists’ “The Hazards of Love”. I caught them performing on The Colbert Report and knew I needed to hear more. The husband caught the bug too and purchased the CD the very next day. I reveled in its ambitious themes, and the smoky, powerful voice of their guest female vocalist on “The Wanting Comes In Waves”. I listened to “The Rake” over and over and dug its sharp drums and mean lyrics. In "The Queen's Rebuke" these lyrics are awesome:
"I'm made of bones of the branches the boughs and the brow-beating light/While my feet are the trunks and my head is the canopy high/And my fingers extend to the leaves in the eves, and the bright/Brighter shineI/t's my shine/And he/Was a baby abandonedEntombed in a cradle of clay/And I was a soul who took pity and stole him away/And gave him the form of a faun to inhabit by day.."
But now, I’m over it. The spell is broken. I still like it, but I don’t need to hear it every day. It’s funny how that happens.