The Decemberists: Lake Song

Alas, poor Colin Meloy. Cursed with a photographic memory, post-collegiate vocabulary and melancholy disposition, he must relive his life's every insecurity in Dickensian six-minute indie-folk ballads. His latest single with the Decemberists finds the singer meditating on an unrequited teenage love he had for a downright stubborn, "sibylline" would-be paramour. It's the kind of schmaltzy, sentimental nostalgia that would make you want to tell him just to "get over it already," if his acoustic guitar playing and his band's gentle piano and soft cymbal work weren't so hypnotic.