Decemberist Colin Meloy Rides the "Omnibus"

The lyrics of literati musician Colin Meloy read like a Victorian era novel. As the front man of indie rockers the Decemberists, Meloy (who majored in creative writing at the University of Montana) spins musical yarns about orphaned chimney sweeps, the ghosts of stillborn children and revenge at sea.

But if the Decemberists are his metaphorical master's thesis in the rock industry, then a little known band out of Missoula, Mont., was his undergraduate course of study.

Meloy, along with guitarist Gibson Hartwell, bass player Louis Stein, drummer Brian Collins and pedal steel player Kevin Suggs, formed Tarkio in 1996. The band, named for an obscure city in Western Montana, gained a small following due to its blend of indie pop and alt-country.

Placing Tarkio's two album discography (I Guess I was Hoping for Something More and Sea Songs for Landlocked Sailors) next to the Decemberists' growing body of work paints an interesting picture of Meloy's progression through the music industry. Tarkio's songwriting style is very direct, with many songs stating the literal singer's thoughts and feelings.

"Weight of the World," an upbeat, existential piece about living week to week, has a contemporary feel uncommon to the band's successor. "And as the weekend's ending / With the weekdays pending / Having trouble comprehending / how I'll make it through," Meloy sings during the bridge.

The approach, though not without its charms, seems a little dry. At the time, Meloy still seemed to be finding his voice. And although the wit and song craft the artist is now famous for does peak through during songs like "Tristan and Iseult" (And as the credits role/Tristan turned to Iseult/said, 'What did ya think?'/'It was okay, I guess/That story's pretty old'), his true talent wouldn't be heard until the Decemberists' debut release Castaways and Cutouts.

Musically, Tarkio is perhaps more initially accessible than Meloy's current endeavor. The instrumental arrangements, many featuring banjo; fiddle; horns and so on, are sweet and catchy. "Caroline Avenue" is the perfect marriage of traditional folk instrumentals with indie songwriting, while "Keeping Me Awake" opens with a meshing of banjo and mandolin that could make any Sufjan Stevens fan smile.

The traditional feel of these two albums is strikingly different than the grandiose arrangements employed in many Decemberists' works, such as "The Mariner's Revenge Song." This song is ear candy for any avid listener, but its epic scope and dark, European influenced score is unlikely to draw in new fans the way a catchy, alt-country number can.

While the band may not be as dynamic as its founder's later projects, Tarkio is still worth noting as a stepping stone to greater things. Apparently, enough curiosity was shown by the public for record label Kill Rock Stars to re-release the band's two albums on a compilation called Omnibus.

So for those who consider themselves true members of the Decemberists' "Youth and Beauty Brigade," Tarkio provides an interesting look at the budding talent of one of alternative rock's more notable contemporaries.