
The Decemberists formed in Portland, Oregon, in 2000, and with their latest, have released nine full-length studio albums.
On their ninth studio full-length, As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again, the folk quintet expands on the landscape they’ve been weaving together for the past 20-plus years, and dip their feet back into prog territory.
Decemberists frontman Colin Meloy’s keening, reedy, distinctively traditional-Irish singing voice has always seemed to me like a tiny rebellion against the homogenizing effects of globalization on music. Over the past 75 years, the imitation of American pop and rock has spread like a pandemic—making the indelibility of Meloy’s Irish heritage on his sound a refreshing presence in modern U.S.-based indie folk. That, paired with the singer/songwriter/guitarist’s penchant for both novelistic and classic-prog-inspired storytelling, has kept the music of the Decemberists evergreen over the past two decades.
As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again is the Portland, Oregon-based band’s ninth studio full-length, and their first in six years. “We’ve had a long arc of experimentation,” says supporting guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Chris Funk, reflecting on how the album partially honors various mosaic fragments of the band’s past works, while also expanding on them in a wise, informed, and beautiful, if not subtle, progression. “At the end of the day, there’s nothing wrong with going to a studio and making a record without a narrative. So, there’s no smoke and mirrors on this one.”
On As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again, Meloy and Funk, joined by bassist Nate Query, keyboardist Jenny Conlee, and drummer John Moen, revisit the country twangs heard on The King Is Dead(2011), with “Long White Veil” and “All I Want Is You”; and even traipse back into the more worldly folk realm heard on Picaresque (2005) with the playful, chiming “Burial Ground” and folk-tango “Oh No!” Others, like the lo-fi electroacoustic, Grandaddy-esque “Born to the Morning,” build on elements from their previous release, 2018’s I’ll Be Your Girl—a record that’s pleasantly peppered with synths extracted straight from the Twin Peaks-, a-ha-, Tears for Fears-era of composition, and lyrics that could have been written by Moz himself. (“Oh, unabashedly,” says Meloy, moments after he recognizes the copy of the Smiths’ Hatful of Hollow seen mounted on the wall behind me on our Zoom call.)
“At the end of the day, there’s nothing wrong with going to a studio and making a record without a narrative. So, there’s no smoke and mirrors on this one.” —Chris Funk
The album concludes with “Joan in the Garden,” a 19-minute suite inspired by the story of Joan of Arc, which shamelessly hijacks the previous 49 minutes of rhapsodic folk songs with a summoning of Pink Floyd long-form-composition aesthetic, à la “Echoes,” “Sheep,” and “Dogs.” Sixteen minutes in, the spirit of Judas Priest rears its head with a muscular metal gallop that carries the track to a sudden and satisfying halt.
On As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again,the Decemberists subtly call back to some past markers in their evolution, while still growing in their multifaceted traditional-, pop-, and prog-folk palette.
It’s been 18 years since the Decemberists’ The Crane Wife(2006), whose second track, “The Island,” rises with Keith Emerson-style synth towards the end of its 12-minute wayfaring, and 15 years since The Hazards of Love (2009), a crowning folk-rock opera in their overall discography. Yet, fans likely haven’t forgotten those earlier bold (and somewhat left-field) infusions of ’70s-prog dialect, and may welcome As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again’s final, albeit extended, punctuation. What may come as a surprise, however, is that Meloy finds “a lot of prog to be sort of unlistenable.
“But,” he continues, “I have a weird kind of intellectual love for it. Being an ardent music fan, I can say I don’t really love Bob Dylan that much, for example, but I know everything about his career. I own so many records of his. There are certain people that, even if you don’t adore them or they don’t speak to your inner heart, you know how important they are, and you can see their contribution.”
Intersecting with that perspective is the fun fact that Meloy studied English, theater, and creative writing in college, and has a separate career as a children’s book author, with seven published works. “[Stories are] where my heart is, and that’s what drew me to people like the Pogues, Robyn Hitchcock, the Smiths. There’s a story being told, one way or another, in any of their songs,” he shares. “Prog also really lends itself to telling a longer story, a more sophisticated story. It kind of started with ‘California One’ on our first record, which is toying with these sort of longer-form suite songs, which can be owed to ‘Scenes from an Italian Restaurant’ by Billy Joel as much as anything Genesis did with Peter Gabriel. But I also think it was an opportunity to set ourselves apart from how we were being perceived [in the beginning].”
The Decemberists, from left to right: drummer John Moen, frontman Colin Meloy, guitarist/multi-instrumentalist Chris Funk, keyboardist Jenny Conlee, and bassist Nate Query.
Photo by Holly Andres
Speaking of setting themselves apart, Funk says that when the band was coming up in the early ’00s, they were one of the first in the indie-folk-rock scene to bring a broader array of folk instruments into their mostly “rock band” arrangements. Starting with their 2002 debut Castaways and Cutouts, the multi-instrumentalist has recorded a variety of stringed instruments on Decemberists albums aside from standard guitars, including dobro, pedal steel, lap steel, bouzouki, banjo, tenor guitar, baritone guitar, and mandolin. Funk has also contributed performances on other odds and ends, such as theremin, hammered dulcimer, Marxophone (a hammered, fretless zither), hurdy-gurdy, and synths.
“At the time when we signed to Kill Rock Stars [in 2003] and I moved to the Pacific Northwest,” says Funk, “there weren’t really rock bands with accordions [played in the Decemberists by Jenny Conlee] and pedal steels. And we really stuck out from our peer group. I think it was just wanting to expand our palette. Historically, there’s a lot of world-building in the Decemberists, so [I was thinking], what else could live inside that world? And then with the next record, how can we tear down that world and create something new?”
“Historically, there’s a lot of world-building in the Decemberists, so [I was thinking], what else could live inside that world?” —Chris Funk
That inspiration came in part from growing up listening to ’80s groups like R.E.M., whose guitarist Peter Buck first recorded mandolin on their sixth studio album, 1988’s Green. “I don’t even think I knew what a mandolin was when [I first heard it on R.E.M.’s songs],” Funk shares. “That was sort of our gateway into it.”
“There’s also bands like Belle and Sebastian,” Meloy adds. “It’s just like, everybody grab whatever instrument you have laying around and let’s give it a shot. There was a DIY [approach of], you don’t really have to be a virtuoso at this instrument to make songs with it. That was sort of the guiding principle, too.”
Of course, accordion, pedal steel, lap steel, banjo, and the like are hardly uncommon in country and folk settings, but were in the evolving 2000s indie-folk scene, which was competing (and still is) with a hip-hop and pop zeitgeist for the ears of a youthful audience. Other indie artists like Neutral Milk Hotel and Sufjan Stevens were also a bit ahead of the Decemberists, with Neutral Milk Hotel’s use of flugelhorn and musical saw on 1998’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, and Stevens’ generously broad mixture of folk instruments on his 2000 debut A Sun Came. However, along with those bands, the Decemberists rose to more popular visibility and influence circa 2005.
Colin Meloy's Gear
Frontman Colin Meloy identifies more as a songwriter than a guitarist, and focuses on storytelling through his songs.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/tinnitus photography
Guitars
- Gibson J-200 Montana Gold
- Gibson J-45 True Vintage
- Goya nylon-string
- Andrew Mowry bouzouki
- Two Guild F-512 12-strings (one is tuned down a half step)
- Reverend Buckshot
- Gretsch 6120 Chet Atkins
- Effects
- MXR Dyna Comp (modified with a 1980 CA3080E chip)
- ZVEX Box of Rock
- EHX Oceans 11
- Two Boss DD-3 Digital Delays
Amps
- Phoenix Audio DRS-Q4 MkII preamp (for acoustics)
- Carr Viceroy amp (for electrics)
- Orange OR50 head through a 2x12 cabinet (for electrics)
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario Light Acoustic (.012–.053)
- D’Addario Medium Wound 3rd Electric (.011–.049)
- Tortex .73 mm picks
- Golden Gate thumbpicks
❦
“Can you talk about your passion for guitar? That’s to the both of you,” I quiz Meloy and Funk halfway through the interview.
Meloy pauses, smiling. (At this point, he’s already confessed that he identifies more as a songwriter than a guitarist.) “Funk, would you like to talk about your passion for guitar?” he deflects, wryly.
“I think I was just saying I don’t have much left,” laughs Funk. “It’s just endless with electric guitar, with combinations of amps and pedals and the revival, or the beginnings of, boutique pedal building. I mean, it’s kind of insane. I’ve kind of put a moratorium on buying pedals, but it’s always fun just to see what people are building and that people are still pushing it. I’m not really attracted to people building 17-string guitars or anything like that, but I’m passionate about the possibilities of making the guitar sound less and less like a guitar.
“I religiously watch Rig Rundowns,” he continues. “I literally watch them every night. I’m just fascinated with how people are doing stage setups. I love it. I’m really fascinated with all the metal players or the heavier players; it seems like everybody’s using Fractal systems now, but even that’s interesting to me. I’ll never do it. But I think that’s cool.”
❦
Chris Funk's Gear
Multi-instrumentalist Chris Funk has contributed a wide variety of instruments to the Decemberists’ recordings over the years, and lately, has felt a bit more detached from the guitar. He still, however, obsessively watches Rig Rundowns.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Guitars
- Weber Yellowstone Octave Mandolin
- Deering John Hartford Banjo
- Reverend Club King 290
- Gibson ES-390
- Gibson Chris Cornell Signature ES-335
- Eastwood Messenger
- Reverend Airwave 12-string
- Fylde Falstaff acoustic
- Epiphone Elitist ES-335
- Sho-Bud E9 pedal steel
Amp
- Supro 1695T Black Magick 1x12 combo (pedal steel)
- Two early Benson Monarch amps with Tall Bird reverbs
- Benson 1x12 cabs
Effects
For pedal steel:
- Boss FV-500 volume pedal
- Malekko Spring Chicken reverb
For electrics:
- Tuner
- Xotic AC Booster
- Keeley Dark Side
- Boss MT-2 Metal Zone
- Third Man Mantic Flex
- Boss SY-1 Guitar Synthesizer
- Strymon TimeLine
- Radial Twin-City ABY amp switcher
For acoustics:
- Fishman Aura Spectrum DI preamp
- Voodoo Lab Amp Selector
- Radial DIs
Modular Synth Rig:
- Busy Circuits Pamela’s Workout Master Clock
- Mutable Instruments Plaits
- Mutable Instruments Rings
- Knobula Poly Cinematic
- Strymon Magneto
- Instruo Arbhar
- Make Noise Rosie
Strings
- D’Addario Light Acoustic Guitar Strings (.012–.053)
- D’Addario Medium Wound 3rd Electric Guitar Strings (.011–.049)
Meloy and Funk were in their mid and late 20s, respectively, when they founded the Decemberists, and spent the following years of youthful adulthood developing a deeper friendship. When Meloy comments modestly on his guitar skills, Funk chimes in, “I think you’re undercutting your guitar playing. Colin’s a really great guitar player.”
“I learned a lot about guitar from Funk,” Meloy obliges. “I feel like when I started the Decemberists, I was afraid of electric guitar to a certain degree, and was much more comfortable with acoustic guitar. Funk has sort of pushed me in the direction of experimenting with guitar tones and pedals and setups and stuff like that. [I have gone] in that direction a little bit … not necessarily kicking and screaming, but just like, so intimidated by it. [He’s helped me to] open up to some ideas and approaches I don’t think I would’ve had before.”
That appreciation is mutual, as Funk shares his own perspective on what they’ve learned from one another over the years: “Colin’s always been pretty bold with some ideas that one might not do when they’ve entered a period of recording their second record on a major label—making Hazards of Love, which is a 45-minute folk-rock opera, if you will. So my takeaway is that the art comes first and it’s not always trying to find a single—it’s just being brave, to write from the heart.”
YouTube It
With Meloy on a Guild 12-string and Funk on a Reverend semi-hollowbody, the Decemberists rock their way through their 12-minute narrative folk-prog composition “The Island,” from 2006’s The Crane Wife.
- Best Albums of 2020 ›
- Interview: Heartless Bastards - Arrow ›
- Stephen Malkmus: The Unknowing Guitarist ›
- Singer-Songwriter Robyn Hitchcock’s Living Homage to 1967 - Premier Guitar ›
There’s so much more that goes into building a pedal—but you do need to get your workstation in order first.
Think that price tag on that pedal is a bit high? There’s a lot more that goes into it than just what’s in the box.
The inspiration for this topic comes from a recent video published by JHS Pedals. The video consists of Josh Scott giving an honest breakdown and rebuttal to a video posted to YouTube by John Nathan Cordy. In Cordy’s clip, he disassembles a JHS pedal while asking if the general consumer is getting “ripped off” because the cost of the parts isn’t very exorbitant. (Cordy later issued an apology.) I’ve often lived by the motto, “You’re not paying for the parts; you’re paying for how they’re put together.” So, what goes into making a pedal, and are they overpriced? There’s a lot to cover, so let’s dig in.
It can be easy for a consumer to get bogged down by the cost of the end product in relation to the value of raw materials. This is made even more evident given that we have access to the value of the raw materials. A quick web search for a Fuzz Face schematic, followed by some research on where to purchase those components, along with their value, might leave you scratching your head as to why a boutique manufacturer might be selling a Fuzz Face-style pedal for $199 and up. I’d immediately point out that your head isn’t the only thing that we’ve scratched in this example—we’ve only scratched the surface of the cost.
Let’s say I’m a contractor, and you want me to put up a fence on your property, and I buy $100 worth of wood and nails and put it up in 10 hours. Is that job worth $100? No. I don’t think anyone reading this would think that. People understand costs when they go past the tangible. We’re talking about labor. The very thing that employees are reimbursed for. That’s still not the aspect that I think the common consumer struggles to grasp. I think that they have a disconnect when it comes to the ancillary. In this example, it would be the cost of the tools, the insurance and fuel for the work truck, and the advertising cost for the page where you found the contractor in the first place. Let’s bring this back to pedals and unpack this a little bit more.
I’m going to attempt to outline bringing a pedal to life, from the inception of the idea to the selling of the final product—all while trying to expose the costs that I think people forget or simply don’t know about. I feel like a magician right now. “I’m going to attempt to make 15 buses appear on this skyscraper. All while hanging upside down and blindfolded.” Anyway, let’s give it a try.
“You’re not paying for the parts; you’re paying for how they’re put together.”
We know that the cost of the parts for a fuzz pedal is on the low side. Residing here in America (and for me in New England), we know that labor costs are on the higher side. But let’s keep digging up and exposing those forgotten or unknown running costs. After the idea of making the product, it starts with having the space to design and work on it. That would be rent, business insurance, liability insurance if there are employees, and common utilities bills. You need a bench to work at with adequate lighting, storage for the parts, and the parts themselves. These parts are only in our possession after hours of research on which parts we want to use. This includes specs like tolerance, material construction, component size, lead pitch, voltage ratings, and so on. But let’s not jump the gun. We need to order a variety of parts so that we can assemble the circuit on a breadboard, test it, make changes and additions, and record the results onto a schematic. That is, of course, after we purchase and learn how to work on a breadboard, and connect it to an instrument and amplifier. Then we need to learn how to read and write in the language that is electronics schematics. This is something that 95 percent of pedalbuilders learn on their own. So there’s no formal education cost here, but it’s hours and hours of learning.
Let’s say we’ve made it this far and we know what we want to use in the fuzz circuit. Next, we order the parts (most likely from several suppliers and pay separate shipping costs for all). Once they arrive, we stock them in their appropriate locations. Now we’ve arrived at a big step: turning what we have on the breadboard and schematic into a circuit board that mates with an enclosure. Oh, dear!
Join me for part two as I break down the next steps in this journey from idea to final product—and final price.
There’s no disputing the influence B.B. King has had on the history of electric guitar music. We’re talking about his sound, his best records, his guitars, his showmanship, and his collabs, from an all-star jam at the 2010 Crossroads festival to, yes, even his 1988 U2 collab, “When Love Comes to Town.”
There’s no disputing the influence B.B. King has had on the history of electric guitar music.
With Lucille in hand—as well as other guitars—he carved out his sound by developing a signature one-of-a-kind vibrato and pick attack. His note choice, phrasing, and feel have basically become the fundamental vocabulary of electric blues. Even more than any other of his blues peers, his playing shaped blues and rock guitar. And that’s not to mention his singing.
So, on this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re celebrating the King. We’re talking about his sound, his best records, his guitars, his showmanship, and his collabs, from an all-star jam at the 2010 Crossroads festival to, yes, even his 1988 U2 collab, “When Love Comes to Town.”
In our current listening segment, we’re talking about Brian John McBrearty’s recent meditation-jazz release Remembering Repeating and Julian Lage’s latest, Apple Music Nashville Sessions.
This episode is sponsored by Gibson.
Tighten up your rhythm playing by focusing on how to get a great sound, balancing your wrist and elbow, and understanding how to subdivide rhythms.
Nile Rodgers brings the rhythm at Bonnaroo 2018.
How the rhythm-playing hitmaker behind Chic—and our columnist—learned to love pop music, and why maybe you should, too.
When Nile Rodgers speaks, we should listen. His seminal work with his own band, Chic, as well as Sister Sledge, Michael Jackson, Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton, Peter Gabriel, Madonna, David Bowie, and Daft Punk, has made him a legend. He also filmed an entertaining Rig Rundown with PG just last year.
I recently listened to his 2017 South by Southwest address, where he told a story about a formative moment in his life. Nile was complaining to his guitar teacher, Ted Dunbar, about having to sing the Archies’ “Sugar, Sugar”at an upcoming cover band gig. Dunbar replied, “Let me tell you something. Any song that sells and gets to the Top 40 ... is a great composition.” Rodgers was skeptical. Then Dunbar added, “Especially ‘Sugar, Sugar.’ That has been No. 1 for four or five weeks.” Next, Dunbar said something that changed Rodger’s life. “‘Sugar, Sugar’ was successful,” he said, “because it speaks to the souls of a million strangers.” Rodgers noted: “Two weeks later, I wrote a song called ‘Everybody Dance.’” Released in 1977, it was a Top 40 single on Chic's first album.
In a BBC This Cultural Life interview, Rodgers said that Dunbar “described an artist to me. I wasn’t an artist until he defined that. I wanted to speak to the souls of a million strangers, but I thought what I wanted to do was speak to some real cool people hanging out in jazz clubs.”
“Everybody Dance” and “Sugar, Sugar”both have hypnotizingly simple lyrics you inevitably replay in your head. Humans like chants, cheers, slogans, and catchy choruses. Rodgers' success came, at least in part, from opening himself up to simplicity that appeals to the masses instead of the complexity that appeals to jazzers. That’s the irony. Jazz, which ostensibly is all about freedom, is often restrictive. Like the old joke goes, jazzers play millions of chords for four people. Pop, rock, and country artists play four chords for millions of people.
Rodgers said, “That's what my teacher taught me, that anti-snobbery. Be open. Love all the music you are around, or at least try and appreciate what that artist is trying to say. Try and have, what we call in the music business, big ears.”
My friends and I have all, at times, been music snobs. I went through a blues binge in my youth where I was prejudiced against shredders. This was not uncommon at the time. After Nirvana hit with Nevermind in 1991, suddenly musicians were openly mocked for playing complex, difficult parts. It was almost like if you cared enough to really learn to play guitar, you were uncool. That was a big relief for me, as I could play neither complex nor difficult parts at the time.
“Taylor Swift is the Beatles of my daughter’s generation.”
Later, when I moved to Nashville, I was all about clean Telecasters and thought ill of music with lots of dirt or effects. Younger me would have plenty of condescending quips about my current love of overdriven humbuckers and delay. Most of my snobbery was driven by my deep insecurities, but part of it was tribalism. The heart wants what it wants; when you find your musical tribe, most of the young zealots trade all others for their one true religion. It might be the only way to get good at something.
On the other hand, my friends and I listen to a variety of music, but the common factor is it usually involves good guitar playing. We love what we love because it speaks to our souls. But most guitar players are drawn to those who are doing what we wish we could do. My uncle Fred used to say, “There’s nothing wrong with being a snob. It just means that you have good taste.”
Between club dates, sessions, and the occasional TV gig, I play with tons of people. I have no say in the set list, so “Sugar, Sugar” moments are unavoidable. I used to feel deep shame playing those types of songs, like it reflects poorly on my personal taste or abilities. In short, I was prejudiced until I saw all of the true pros who could find something beautiful, challenging in the seemingly mundane. It’s like the old actor’s adage: There are no small parts, just small players.
According to Forbes, Taylor Swift was “The Biggest Artist in the World in 2023.” That being the case, her songs inevitably come up on cover gigs. When this happens, some musicians might groan, like it makes them cool to hate on pop culture. But that’s probably because they don't really know her work. Taylor Swift is my 8-year-old daughter’s Alexa go-to, so I know Taylor’s catalog really well. Turns out, it’s amazing, full of truly catchy, engaging, touching songs. Taylor Swift is the Beatles of my daughter’s generation. Snobs will think that statement is heresy, but snobs often don’t know what they are talking about, and they never have as much fun as the people who are dancing violently to “Shake It Off,” or singing with eyes closed to “All Too Well.”