Review of The Decemberists at Vicar Street on March 4th 2011
Review by Kevin Donnellan
There are many reasons why a Decemberists gig shouldn’t work. Or at least why it shouldn’t be unforgettable. For one thing their sound, while not exactly middle of the road, definitely stays firmly between the yellow lines. Then there’s the musical instruments used. The old Far Side joke springs to mind; “Welcome to Hell, here’s your accordion”.
Also their appearance; none of this six-piece would look out-of-place giving classes at an adult education centre. Then don’t scream rock-and-roll. They whisper tweed-and-elbow patches.
Happily none of this actually matters. Because the Decemberists are one of the most likeable, adept, relaxed, original funny live acts you will ever have the pleasure to see.
After a brief, and surprisingly funny, introductory voice over the band come out to a raucous reception from a crowd who seem to be mainly composed of the already converted. Lead singer Colin Meloy is a great front man. His vocal and musical skills are spot on but it’s his interaction with the audience that creates and maintains such a good vibe.
A joke here, a story there, then back to the music. “Anyway here’s a song about a joint suicide” he deadpans on introducing ‘We Both Go Down Together’ directly after an anecdote.
The music takes a while to get slip into the ‘rock’ side of the folk-rock genre. Early numbers are country-tinged. Excellently performed but very ‘slow-dance-in-an-empty-saloon-bar’. Although the interludes mean things never get too melancholy.
Everything’s kicked up a notch for the second half of the show and the interludes are, temporarily anyway, abandoned. Songs fuse into each other, instruments are swapped and replaced at serious speed. There’s a glockenspiel. And a bass. Wait no it’s a cello. No it’s a bass. There’s another different glockenspiel or maybe it just looks like one. Actually what is a glockenspiel.? Anyone with a proper love and knowledge of obscure musical instruments would have a field day.
The crowd is in its element now. We’ve left folk behind and may even have entered the ‘Prog’ department of the store. The lights of iPhones have disappeared as all attention is given to swaying and singing in time to the band. At one point the crowd is cajoled into singing loud, then soft. “Now just think it” Colin extols. The crowd laughs but you suspect most have done as he asked just in case.
Then it’s time for the encore. Die hard fans know what’s coming. I’m blissfully unaware. ‘The Mariner’s Revenge Song’. a staple of the bands live shows. A ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’ element for folk-rock fans. Maybe explaining it would ruin it. Enough to say the epic sea-shanty finale involves the most fun anyone in the audience has had since going to a panto as a child. I assume anyway, maybe other audience members have more fun in their day-to-day lives than me. Everyone’s smiling. How often do you see everyone smiling at a gig, no matter how good it is?
Perhaps to give the audience a cool down period the band return a second time to run through Springville, it lets everyone calm down before hitting the bar or the streets. The Decemberists still won’t be getting heavy rotation on my playlists but if they arrive back on these shores come festival season I’ll be straight into the tent to see them. You should too, you’ll be happy you did.