Out of all the musical successes of 2009, The Antlers can certainly lay claim to one of the more impressive ones with their second album, Hospice. Making an album about cancer something that anyone would want to listen to couldn’t have been easy, and allowing to it move and sadden without becoming overly depressing makes it a downright triumph. Over the course of ten great songs, The Antlers tell the story of a man losing a young girl to bone cancer. Hospice is sung from the man’s perspective, taking place mostly in a hospital, and it follows the ups and downs of his relationship with the girl as she battles her disease. It’s mostly chronological and it does a great job of holding the listener’s attention for its duration.

Musically, Hospice ranges from intimate to grandiose, and it makes both work well. It’s admirable how the album manages to feel close and personal, but also huge and sweeping at different times, and often within the same song. “Wake” is nearly nine minutes long and starts as a quiet rumination on loss and mourning and ends on an epic and redemptive refrain. It builds as it goes along, and the effect is cathartic and moving. “Sylvia” pulls off the same trick with large arena-ready choruses and heartfelt, personal verses. Both elements have powerful effects, and The Antlers utilize both modes to great effect all over the rest of the record.

“Bear” is a sad tune that deals with the process of coping with a terminal illness and the various emotions that go along with that process, specifically the alienation suffered by the patient and their loved ones. It uses the titular animal as a symbol for the disease as the narrator talks about trying to deal with crippling treatments and friends that don’t return calls anymore. The verses have a nursery rhyme quality to them and they’re very sad, but it’s the chorus here that’s one of the most heartbreaking moments on the entire album. “We’re too old/We’re not old at all” sings lead vocalist Peter Silberman, talking about how old and alone he (the narrator) and the girl feel despite the fact that she’s a child and he’s only 21. It’s powerful lyricism that tugs at the heart despite what’s actually a very jangly and upbeat chorus musically.

There really isn’t a bad song here, and Hospice demands to be listened to straight through. Much more than ten songs collected on a record, it’s an album that works best as such because it follows such a strong narrative. It’s rewarding to take in during one sitting as it all flows together really well. Still, standouts like “Two” and “Bear” do well enough on their own to be singles and they’re not too much weaker for being taken out of context. The former in particular might be the best song here. It starts with a gentle guitar strum, and builds for nearly six minutes, adding in drums and vocals. Thematically it’s similar to “Bear,” as it deals with the isolation the two characters face because of the cancer. It focuses on the fact that it’s more or less the two of them alone in their predicament and alone in the world. Again its upbeat instrumentation is at odds with the melancholy lyrics, but as with the rest of the songs here, The Antlers make it work.

Of course an album named after an organization that helps the terminally ill isn’t going to be a sunny affair, but my hat goes off to The Antlers for creating a touching and intimate record that never gets bogged down by being too mopey or emotional. It would have been easy to take the “woe is me” vibe way over the top with subject matter like this, but the band takes the higher ground and delivers a sad and heartfelt but also smart and sophisticated album that’s just as great for it’s restraint as it is for it’s wrenching emotional appeals.