When I first heard The Decemberists, it had to be on the overhead play at Borders. Bits of Picarasque and The Crane Wife album were played piecemeal, between cuts from Jim Brickman, Enya, that infernal Celtic Woman album, and other muzak-pablum for the brain-dead shoppers. Colin Meloy’s voice annoyed me, and I wanted it to stop. Until I loved “O, Valencia!”
The seeds of love were sown in that song, but I still didn’t pay the band much attention in the next couple of years; nevertheless, “O, Valencia!” was still there on overhead play while I straightened shelves and worked the customer service desk at my favorite book chain ever. I cheered up every time I heard that song. Once I swear I danced around the music section during the chorus of that song while I was shelving cds, hoping nobody would notice. In 2009, I fell hard for The Hazards of Love, and I’ve been a fan of The Decemberists ever since.
The band has released a 10-year anniversary edition of The Crane Wife, so I’ll be listening to it in its entirety on Spotify. I love the whole thing, but I can’t promise I won’t dance around the house when the fourth song plays. (Yeah, it’s “O, Valencia!”)
Love and kisses.