Part I: "The fan in me will do, nearly any task..."
If you are lucky, you come across a few excellent bands every three to five years. It strangely correlates to the frequency of job-changing you might go through before you find a career. These bands have five-star rankings in iTunes and on that imaginary list of the top 100 songs of your life that you'll mentally create only seconds before you die, they are going to have at least half of the slots there.

For me, The Coral is a band like this -- a group of gifted musicians with seven albums from the musically significant Liverpool area. The Coral is worshipped by many of their fans, perhaps because they are the type of guys that still seem pleasantly surprised that two fans would travel arduously all the way from Prague to Vienna -- only four and a half hours by train! -- to see their show.

The Coral is a bit paradoxical; although they are well-known in particular circles -- they have been on the TV shows Scrubs and Late Night with Conan O'Brien -- most of my friends from the UK have never heard of them.

At the same time, they are so infuriatingly popular in their own domestic scene that their busy schedule doesn't permit them much time to travel "continentally". Vienna was as close as they would get to Prague. (But maybe Prague in 2011?)

For me, their pure talent (speaking both instrumentally and vocally) combined with a very acute sense of modesty has me convinced of one thing: If The Coral are not one of the greatest, multi-tiered, experimentally rooted rock bands around these days, then they are certainly the one you would like to hang out with the most.

Hanging out with The Coral was something I wanted to do -- badly. But when the chance came, was I able to make it happen?

Part II: "Dude, that was, like, awesome!" (Or "Too Drunk to Meet the Band")
On October 29, I did my best to get to know the band after an excellent concert at a venue called Szene in Vienna. The surrounding area being completely bereft of cool places to continue the party, my friend AJ and I stuck around drinking our faces off until -- set your face to stun -- I noticed that guitarist Lee Southall and keyboardist Nick Power had quietly joined some of their crew at the venue's nearly empty bar.

I was too inebriated and bashful to approach them intelligibly, but AJ was able to start up a conversation that I stupidly nodded along to for at least 30 minutes. I occasionally came up with some gem of intellect like, "Man, you guys were totally awesome!" or, "Yeah, that rocked, man!"

Damn it! I am totally the bigger fan between the two of us. Hence the reason for this slightly more articulate expression of fandom now.

During this time, other band members came out -- including vocalist James Skelley; his brother, drummer Ian Skelley; and bass guitarist Paul Duffy. My only method of staying pertinent to any conversation was to buy them all drinks -- Sex on the Beach secretly poured from a can -- and continue grinning like an idiot.

Eventually, one of the band's crew guys, the true angel of the evening, came up to me as the band was packing up to drive to Munich that night with a door flier, signed by all the band members (see photo).

I never even asked for it.

Part III: Oliver's Guide to Getting to Know The Coral's Music
I hope I've made it clear at this point that I cannot recommend The Coral highly enough. Since hearing my all-time favorite song, A Warning to the Curious, on the album Invisible Invasion, I have more or less become an unabashed evangelist for the band.

The greatest thing about the The Coral's albums is that you can almost guarantee a new sound, style, theme and overall vibe for each album. The evolution of The Coral both as musicians and adults (the band met in high school in the mid-'90s) is clearly evident -- to me at least -- in their discography. I'll just give a few notes on my experience with their albums and my favorite tracks on each one.

The Coral (2002)
Songs to check out:
Wildfire
Waiting for the Heartaches
Spanish Main
Calendars and Clocks

Their self-titled first album is a potent, unrefined foray into the jungle of their musical desires. The album is solid, aggressive and very broad in style. I caught myself thinking, "This is their first album?"

Though it's not my #1 favorite, it was the darling of reviewers upon its release (still Metacritic's highest-ranking album from the band) and it was immediately clear to me after hearing a few songs that this band had a long road ahead of them.

Magic and Medicine (2003)
Songs to check out:
In the Forest
Don't Think You're the First
Confessions of A. D. D. D.
All of Our Love
Pass It On

In Magic and Medicine, the band evolved from the challenging, spirited self-titled studio album to incorporate a more mature, complex set of orchestrations. Perhaps the first waves of adult love had washed over the band's members during this album. Several songs convey a sense of longing felt by twenty-something men that only men who have gone through the same can identify. It's a strong follow up to The Coral and a very suitable album to listen to over several fingers (and some toes) of 18-year Glenfiddich.

Nightfreak and the Sons of Becker (2004)
Songs to check out:
I Forgot My Name
Keep Me Company
Precious
Migraine

Of all The Coral's albums, Nightfreak and the Sons of Becker is the one I listen to least. This album is solitary, strange and filled with a slight hint of angst and impatience. As the band completed their third album, they are clearly comfortable enough with each other and the band as a primarily internal-facing entity to branch far out into often-psychedelic styles.

With Nightfreak, it seemed safe to say at this time they were unsure what kind of band they would become, and what adventures would follow.

The Invisible Invasion (2005)
Songs to check out:
A Warning to the Curious
The Operator
So Long Ago
In the Morning
Far from the Crowd

This album was my first taste of The Coral -- a friend was playing it as background music in his Prague apartment, and I found myself rudely shutting out the conversation in order to listen to the moody, frenetic and pained tracks being played. This album reminds me at times of a puppet finally realizing that its strings were in reality controlled by another.

I would say that Invasion -- namely A Warning to the Curious, with Skelley's echoing, jugular lyrics and Southall's deep, yearning rift starting at 1:57 -- heralded a shift in musical preference in my life. Or perhaps it came at a time when my tastes were searching for something new. In any case, this is my favorite album by The Coral -- although their latest masterpiece is edging to replace it.

Roots & Echoes (2007)
Songs to check out:
Who's Gonna Find Me
Music at Night
Jacqueline
Rebecca You
Cobwebs
She's Got a Reason

I must have been mentally retarded (no offense) for some time in 2008, but somehow I missed the fact that Roots and Echoes was released the year before. My excuse was that I was kind of obsessed with backtracking into The Coral's albums from the early 2000s. At the time of release, this was their strongest and most professional-sounding album.

In Roots, The Coral's utterly unique sound was fully established and breaching the domain of greatness -- they were notable influencers of other solid up-and-coming bands. What was to come next?

The Singles Collection
Songs to check out:
The Golden Bough
Cry of the City
Being Somebody Else

What was to come next wouldn't come for a little while yet -- The Singles Collection seemed like kind of an internal audit of the band's "assets" for planning the next release. This album was probably enjoyed most by the diehards in The Coral's fan base -- a selection of favorites from various EPs, live concerts, covers, B-sides and road trips over the last decade. While most can be found on The Coral's studio albums (with often better production value), there are some significant treasures (such as Cry of the City) that beautifully evoke Simon and Garfunkel.

Butterfly House (2010)
Songs to check out:
Walking in the Winter
North Parade
Coming Through the Rye
More Than a Lover
Butterfly House
Falling All Around You
1000 Years

The Coral's latest release was such a departure from the two previous albums in terms of attitude, orchestration and demeanor that I didn't like it for a month after I heard it. I felt like I'd lost track of the band.

Now, however, I listen to Butterfly House more than any other Coral album. Especially since the concert in Vienna, which left me wanting to listen to Butterfly House even more than before – something that is unusual for me after a show, which more or less tops up my brain with the band for a while afterwards.

The musical architecture and lyrics of this album are haunting, harmonious and emotional, the overall sound highly complex and enjoyable on different latitudes. If The Coral candidly admitted that this is their magnum opus, I would believe them.

I almost hope they don't release another album anytime soon -- be it either better or worse than Butterfly House, one of them could comparatively "disappoint" me. But I think I'll be able to get over it...

Listen to The Coral -- they will set a new standard for both you and our generation for what a band has to do in order to become legendary.