Really, someone does. Because at this rate, The Decemberists will be playing stadiums in a few years, and how the hell will they decide what to pull out of their bottomless hat after one or two more albums?
I got home well over an hour ago from parte deux of the launch of The Decemberists ambitious "The Long and the Short of It" tour. (Note to self: research why so many artists kick off tours in this city. Is it a treat or the shaft?) And now I shall attempt to synthesize two nights of revelry into a few short paragraphs.
First, Laura Veirs.
I randomly first heard this woman in Boston in the fall of 2002. I was there on a business trip, and met up for a drink with an old college aquaintance. It went so well that we got together a couple nights later and went to hear another friend-of-a-friend/fledgling musician play at the the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge. And I remember that it was enjoyable enough. I even remember liking one song "Black-eyed Susan" quite a bit.
Fast forward a few years and a few albums (and me falling in love with and moving to Boston for aforementioned college friend, but that's as personal as I'll ever get in this blog and beside the point anyway) and Laura Veirs is hot stuff. Despite her unrefined, shy voice, she has broken through some sort of barrier. I had forgotten about her, but when she started surfacing in Paste magazine and NPR with the release of Year of Meteors I remembered that lonely cowgirl I saw in Cambridge, and I started paying attention.
Although "Meteors" was probably a bigger breakthrough, Saltbreakers has secured Laura a degree of sustainability. There were probably only 100 people at Schubas the night she and Saltbreakers launched their tour their in May, and the show was pretty flawless. And now she's sharing a six-week bill with some genuine rock stars at some of the most established music halls in the country. I had been pushing maximum density on my October concert calendar when the Decemberists announced this special fall tour. I was tempted. Then I was sold by two things. A) the concept and B) the Laura Veirs.
Here's the two night review in a nutshell, now that I've given you 10 pages of background. They need some time. The sound at the Vic can be pretty awful at times, and was probably at it's worst during her Sunday 10/28 set. On top of that, her drummer is out with a bad back. Some of the obvious favorites from her last two albums were missing both nights (Galaxies, Don't Lose Yourself, Cast a Hook in Me, To the Country) but they made a good effort. The Decemberists' John Moen sat in for drummer Tucker Martine the first half of the set both nights, and really showed his mettle on songs he'd just learned.
During the portions sans drums, we were treated to some oldies that I didn't expect to hear. Last night it was "Black-eyed Susan" and tonight it was "Jailhouse Fire."
We sat in the balcony both nights, and so while at small places, I love to see Laura and the band rock out on tunes like "Wandering Kind" the way the vocals sounded up there took away a lot. But, I still loved almost every minute of her geeky presence, and the highlight was tonight, when they played "Riptide" from Carbon Glacier, Steve Moore's trombone was a perfect fit, and the song just soaked into the audience and the peeling-paint atmosphere of the Vic.
And now the Decemberists...
I received a copy of Picaresque as part of a 30th birthday gift from my friends David and Orly (in 2005.) I listened to it a couple times, then stopped. But then, last winter, I started listening again, and when The Crane Wife came out, and I went to see them at the Riviera this past April, I was hooked. By the time they played their free show in Millenium Park in July, I was a true fan, and knew most of their songs.
And that can be a curse when you go see a band live.
But I'm okay. I'm not like that boy crying "free bird." (or that guy my age crying "trapeze swinger" at Iron & Wine for that matter.) I'm just happy to be present, and watch these people work.
The Long
Opened with the full "Crane Wife." Closed with "The Mariner's Revenge." In the middle, we heard "The Island" and a few others, but the climax was "The Tain." The same piece that lost a lot of audience members on that wet night in July, was complete success last night. There was rolling around on the stage, there was dancing, there was melodica.
I was really sleepy, and even though it was an early show, I found myself drifting off in the midsections of some of those epics. Especially during their cover of Pink Floyd's "Echoes." Lulled to sleep, not out of boredom, or even exhaustion, just relaxation. But then, they would switch to a harder-rocking movement, and I'd be awake again.
The Short
Back for round two, and boy was I excited. And it was great. They opened with "Oceanside" and closed with "After the Bombs" Everything in between was great. There were a few forgotten lyrics, but other than that, you wouldn't know that they don't play all of these songs all the time.
I almost jumped out of my seat when they played "The Culling of the Fold." For some reason, that had become my favorite Decemberists song this past week, and Colin Meloy chose this piece to fly his freak flag. Stroking the heads of audience members, sprawling on the the floor like a cat, and wrapping the mic cord around his neck like he wants to die like Michael Hutchence...and it's a fucking amazing song anyway.
Quite a bit of audience participation took place. Meloy can make the people do just about anything. But it's not just him. This band has this synergy that can't be topped. Every player is so talented and unique. Colin's talent is in his voice and writing more than his playing - but everyone else has his or her own thing too. Chris Funk switches effortlessly from mandolin, to guitar, to hurdy gurdy and back again. Nate Query can play his upright bass upside down, and lying down (and he's hot) John Moen make drumming look like breathing (and he's a pretty good jester, too) and Jenny Conlee: Jenny is a shining example of when a nerdy prodigy realizes she can be a superstar too. As if accordion and singing isn't enough, watching her stroke and tickle that organ during the last few pieces was almost enough to make me raise up my hands and repent.
The last encore tonight was "After the Bombs," and they threw in a tiny cover of a portion of the Smiths', "Ask." I think maybe in another post I'll get into analyzing the lyrics to both of those songs in relation to the crazy times upon us. ("If it's not love than it's the bomb that will bring us together.") But that's for another time.
Last night I was satisfied and ready for sleep. Tonight, I was left wanting more. Wishing they'd played a few more of my favorite songs. Left wishing I'd been down on the floor with the kids who jump and dance and clap with abandon. And left wondering if maybe I should buy a ticket to go see them in Milwaukee later in this tour.
But they'll be back. And they'll be just as good, because that's their job.
P.S. A special shout out to Jill and Dr. Sideburns for joining me tonight, to my neighbor Trevor for coming along last night, and to Dave for soldiering through both nights. I think he had more fun that I did.
And Rocktober is over! I'm going to sleep for a couple weeks now.
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