Last night I went to see The Decemberists in concert, again. They haven’t been to Houston for several years (usually choosing to confer their patronage on the more bohemian Austin) so I bought a ticket as soon as they were announced, and booked the day off work. The reason for the day off was because I splurged on the ‘VIP concert experience’ package. For about 4x the regular ticket price, this gives you some free merch, early entry to an ‘exclusive two-song set’ and a Q&A session with the band, all of which was set to kick off at 3pm, so I figured it wasn’t even worth going in for the day (plus, I have a bunch of holiday I need to use up before year-end…).
At 3pm I dutifully turned up to what was an hour of browsing the merch stand (which, admittedly, was significantly less stressful than fighting with all the oiks at the end of the concert), before we (about 2 dozen of us VIPs with too much disposable income – or not enough self-restraint) were ushered into the concert hall, where the band were already on stage. They’d just finished their soundcheck and gotten everything in tune (I’ve never understood why a snare drum takes 20 minutes of whacking a single note (?) on, whereas they can tune a 12-string semi-acoustic guitar in about 30 seconds…), so the lovely Colin Meloy thanked us for coming, and after a brief discussion with the band launched into a four-track run from The Hazards of Love, including Annan Water, and an absolutely blistering performance of The Wanting Comes in Waves / Repaid. Last time I saw them was on the Hazards of Love tour where they ran through the entire album, and had Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond doing the ‘Queen’ parts on …Repaid. This time they had a different vocalist, who looked like an aged Jo Brand (replete with knotted headscarf and a baggy hoodie – although none of them were dressed for the stage…), but she absolutely shredded it! (And probably her vocal cords too). Had that been the total extent of the performance, I would have left happy.
But after that performance, we had the Q&A session. About half a dozen of us got to ask the band questions. I’m not sure if everyone was allowed to, but when I checked in they asked me if I had a question (which I’d previously submitted via the website) and they stamped my hand, so… Anyway, I said that some of my favorite songs of theirs didn’t make an official album release – The Harrowed and the Haunted being released on a ‘leftovers EP’ for What a Terrible World, What a Wonderful World, and I Will Not Say Your Name only making it out as a download on the ‘Exploded’ (Deluxe) edition of I’ll Be Your Girl, and asked how that felt, to build something up to completion in the studio, and then not give it it’s own life, suggesting that it must feel like sending one of your children off to live with relatives (which elicited a laugh). Colin replied that I Will Not Say Your Name felt half-baked to him, and they only ran through it twice, so he always considered it B-side material (though I’d suggest still far better than a lot of band’s A-sides [and if you don’t know what A-sides and B-sides are, ask your parents!]). He said that he originally intended for What a Terrible World, What a Wonderful World to be a double album including everything they recorded for it, and still regrets the decision to pare it down to a single album, so that was interesting. And then the rest of the band jumped in with what songs they wished had made the official releases, revealing that there were often a lot of tense email discussions over what to include – although I rather suspect that Colin, as the ‘Benevolent Dictator’, has the final say. Anyway, it was super-cool to actually get to have an interaction with the band (and they seemed to enjoy it; it certainly didn’t seem forced or a chore), and at least I managed to hide my fanboi nervousness better than most of the others – especially the poor girl who burst into tears and almost hyperventilated, before asking her question (which I forget because it came by way of a convoluted story of how their music had seen her through so much personal stuff…). Bless.
So, Q&A over, we had a couple of hours to kill, before the actual concert. I opted to drive down to Hopdoddy Burger Bar for an Impossible Burger, which capped a perfect afternoon. I made it back to the venue shortly before the doors opened. There was a bit of a queue, so it was nice to discover that my VIP ticket got me ‘fast-tracked’, and before I knew it I was in an almost empty venue, and able to wander right up to the front and park myself at the crash barrier with a pretty good view of the stage. As the rest of the crowd filled up the space around me, everyone looked to be about 15 years old, but they all seemed to have the “Over 21” wristbands that you need to show your ID to get just so you could get drinks at the bar, so I guess I’m now so far removed from “youth” that I can no longer accurately gauge the age of anyone under 30.
An hour later, the support ‘band’ took the stage. This was an old-school folk duo (Kacy and Clayton) from Saskatchewan, who sang about the Oregon Trail and other stuff they were about 200 years too young to have any actual experience of, but still did their best to conjure a picture of it all. Far from my cup of tea, but inoffensive, I guess. At least it gave me time to pop a couple of motrin I’d taken the precaution of bringing with me, to ease the back pain I knew I’d be getting from standing up for so long. I did my best to palm them into my mouth surreptitiously but conspicuously, so that people would think that I was sneaking some drugs and was really hip and with it, and not just some sad old geezer who was too old and knackered to be doing this.
Half an hour after that, and The Decemberists were up. They started with Dear Avery, followed by A Beginning Song, which made for a pretty quiet start to proceedings, but then running through Sucker’s Prayer (with everyone joining in with the feel-good chorus of “I want to love somebody, but I don’t know how / I just want to throw my body in the river and drown”), a very heavy Won’t Want For Love, which they really rocked the shit out of, and the new Cutting Stone, and things were up to speed. They played Shankhill Butchers from the Crane Wife, which was an interesting choice, but really good to hear live, and did The Engine Driver, a fairly emotional song from Picaresque. One of my favorite songs on one of my favorite albums. They reprised The Wanting Comes in Waves / Repaid from earlier with the new vocalist surpassing her previous performance (though I did see her sneaking a lozenge just before her part, so maybe she’d been saving her voice). Absolutely fantastic, and a definite high point. …at least until they did Rusalka, Rusalka / The Wild Rushes from their latest album (I’ll Be Your Girl), which I was really hoping they would do, but didn’t expect them to as it’s not really a rousing, giggable song. But that absolutely made the gig, for me – and for a lot of the people around me who were singing all the words.Â
The audience was super-cool, with everyone having a good time, even down at the front where space was at a premium. Everyone sang along to We All Die Young, and Sons and Daughters – myself included (though not loud enough to embarrass myself…). The encore began with Once In My Life, which set a sobering tone, but the party spirit was reinstated with the obligatory raucous finale of The Mariner’s Revenge Song, replete with giant inflatable whale, which floated out over the audience, as everyone screamed like they’d been swallowed by a whale, on cue. I guess you had to be there, but it made for a suitably happy climax to the evening. And delighted Andrea, the hyperventilating girl from the Q&A, who ended up standing next to me through the entire gig. She had said that was one of her favorites as we chatted between acts, and when I looked over to check her reaction as the lights came on, I saw genuine tears in her eyes. I really wonder what “personal stuff” she’d been through that she could find solace in a song about a man taking revenge on an errant sailor and gets swallowed by a whale in the process, but it was a sweet moment. She smiled, silently gave me a hug, and wandered off, wiping her eyes. Which just about summed up the whole evening. They didn’t do my favorite song (Rise To Me), which is probably just as well as I’d probably have had something in my eye, too, but it was still the best gig I’ve been to in a long, long time.
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