“Hazards of Love (The Prettiest Whistles Won’t Wrestle the Thistles Undone)” from Hazards of Love. (buy)
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a review of the Decemberists’ new album Hazards of Love in versified form for Detour. It appears among other excellent reviews, but I thought I’d let it stand alone for you, our dear readers.
From Portland sprang a band whose name won Indie music fame.
The Decemberists won boundless fans and Meloy an idol became,
With tales of orphans and aerialists,
Bagmen, ankles, and deadly trysts,
And, oh, Valerie Plame.
Accordions and zithers, how the band does compliment
This prolix lyrics paragon, his erudite intent.
To greater eccentricity resigned
To a major label they signed
And then, oh, The Hazards of Love.
You’ll learn soon enough,
Unless you’re fanatic this rock operatic confounds.
Poor Margaret, our heroine, her tale of ruin told.
A forest queen, shape-shifting beast, a rake profanely bold,
Evoked with vibrant verbs and nouns.
And at the end Marge drowns.
Oh, the hazards of love!
“The Rake’s Song” is a highlight, with its triumphant “alright”s!
And “Annan Water”’s driving strums buoys a lover’s river flight
In “Margaret in Captivity”
Our heroine survives
Even though the intro sounds
Like “Wanted Dead or Alive.”
Hmm. The Hazards of Love.
With all of its ambitious pluck no new fans will Hazards win.
But we the vassals of this lord of rhyme still widely grin.
With stars or numbers I will not bore.
The Post-Rockist doesn’t rate or score.
Oh, The Hazards of Love,
You’ll learn soon enough,
There’s plenty of killer (and killers) but filler redounds.
One Comment
In case it wasn’t obvious enough, Scotter’s poem actually matches the form of the song, so you could sing his review instead of the actual lyrics.
Show off.