1,109 THE DECEMBERISTS, Hop Along, Bristol O2 Academy, Thursday 8th November 2018

I’d quickly booked tickets for this one before picking up The Decemberists latest album "I'll Be Your Girl", and I have to say I initially regretted my haste. On initial listens, I found it a real curate's egg (a reference that would no doubt delight the studious and intellectual Decemberists main-man Colin Meloy), their usual crafted and cerebral Americana/ alt-rock bring subsumed in occasional jarring swathes of suspiciously 80's mainstream-sounding synth. After their REM "tribute" record (the excellent "The King Is Dead"), was this their Hall And Oates tribute? Horrible thought!!

Well, I was committed, so put some work in, and repeated listens made more sense of the album, so, thus buoyed, I set off under inky skies, parking in Trenchard Level 9 and hitting the venue at 7.45 for a much-needed wee! Support Hop Along from Philadelphia, on in short order, were initially a decent blend of US alt-college pop and slightly countrified Americana, with tumbling drums and chiming ringing guitars augmenting the main feature, that of the diminutive female vocalist's impressive vocal range. Not averse to shouting at the audience either; "how y'all doing... ANSWER ME!" Some intriguing moments in their set, however I became increasingly unsure as to whether the clash between the octave straddling vocals and discordant guitar licks were deliberately "challenging", or just unrehearsed, and overall the set became a bit of a muddle. A lot of one, actually. Frustrating, really, as there might be a pleasant little band there...

Another quick loo trip turned into a real squeeze to get back, as the place - an early sell-out tonight - felt utterly rammed, everywhere! Still, I inveigled my way to a small space near the front, house left. The Decemberists took the stage at 9 to a devotional welcome, opening with a folky, strum- and harmonica-along "Don't Carry It All", setting the stage appropriately for the first part of the set; initially it felt akin to a backwoods campfire singalong, relaxed and inclusive, with understated renditions of (often gory and horror/death-based!) story-based numbers. An early "Shankhill Butchers" was a perfect example; segued in with "Blackleg Miner", this Violent Femmes-like death ballad ended with mainman Colin Meloy remarking, "That's 2 songs in 1 about mining; so don't leave here complaining you didn't get enough mining songs!"

Before that, we'd had a quite beautiful version of "Make You Better", the band delivering their best number as if made of China, and a soupcon of Meloy's erudute and entertaining banter ("we're from Portland, Oregon... Oh, America... we carry our apologies with us!") However, the incongruous and slightly jarring glitter stomp of "We All Die Young", which, hey, I just flat out don’t like, nonetheless heralded a sea change in the set, as thereafter it got noticeably rockier; "Queens Rebuke" was an unpalatable prof workout, but the dark, flippant "Rake's Song" rescued matters, and "Severed" was excellent, despite - or even because of! - the pulsing synth. And this after I’d criticised the synth overload. I'm a contrary bugger, aren't I?

"Sons" ended the set with a hopeful and topical singalong of "hear all the bombs fade away", then the encore saw both sides of the Decemberists' approach tonight; back to the gloomy campfire for "Rusalka/Wild Rushes", then a soaring, synth-embellished "Once In My Life", Meloy stealing lyric snippets from The Smiths "Please Please Please". However, the highlight was saved until last; after being advised by Colin; "one more number before we send you into the Bristolese night... [I mean] Bristolian? Is that right? I thought you were having a piss...!", then being coached for our reaction to being swallowed by a whale (and been advised to make the whale signal at Death Cab For Cutie's Ben Gibbard, at their forthcoming gig here!), the snarky sea shanty "Mariners Revenge" was ace. Lots of swayalong audience participation, then the sight of a huge inflatable whale floating over the audience! Bizarre yet fun, and an apt way to end tonight’s proceedings.

Grabbed a list then hit the road, reflecting on another unique yet entertaining Decemberists gig. They showed 2 distinct elements of their work, and, despite the unwanted (by me, anyway) “Glitter Band tribute” and a slight veer towards prog overload, I enjoyed them both!

939 THE DECEMBERISTS, Serafina Steer, Bristol O2 Academy, Monday 16th February 2015

A hectic 3 gigs in 4 days draws to a close with something completely different again; after some girly ramshackle garage rock in Bristol on Saturday, it’s back down the M4 for some cerebral, occasionally slow-burn alt-indie country/ folk from Oregon tunesmiths The Decemberists. After my first, very enjoyable, encounter with them, at this same venue 4 years back (gig 808) I’d picked up more of their back catalogue, generally liking most of it but finding parts a little self-indulgent and veering towards the “Prog Alert” button, as I’d been previously warned about. Nevertheless, new album “What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World” has on early listens continued the good straightforward path of its’ breakthrough predecessor “The King Is Dead”, so I’m up for some more “live” Decemberists!

So was Tim, so he picked us up for a catch up during a swift drive down and early arrival at the already busy venue – t’was a sell-out tonight! Unfortunately, that meant we were there for solo opener, harpist Serafina Steer, who was awful. Apparently working through certain song themes – instructional, karaoke and ghost songs – it all came across as just inaccessibly weird for weird’s sake, and despite her efforts to engage the crowd, this set was one to just grit your teeth and unwillingly endure. Thankfully, better was to come as, after a short wait in our increasingly crammed usual spot, stage right, a trumpet fanfare heralded the arrival of the Decemberists, dead on 9. Mainman Colin Meloy took the stage solo for opener “The Singer Addresses His Audience”, the band joining him in stages to fill in the sound to a crescendo, before bursting into the sudden, bouncy and brassy “Wake Up Boo!” soundalike that is the upbeat “Cavalry Captain”, possibly the Decemberists’ most pure “pop” moment to date.

“Welcome to the show; together, collectively, we’ll have fun; there may be some low moments – sadness, tragedy, death – but eventually we’ll prevail!” announced the bearded Meloy at its’ conclusion, the first of many lengthy and articulately phrased soliloquys from the man tonight – many of which, oddly, involved apologising to, “the people of Bristol,” for spreading a long-held misapprehension that Depeche Mode originated from there! Clearly a very intelligent man – the use of words such as “obfuscate” and “paradigm” during said speeches underlining this – Meloy occasionally veers towards clever-dickness, but unlike, say, “comedian” David Mitchell, who always comes across as utterly desperate to convey to his audience just how brow-beatingly intelligent he is and thereby shows himself up as a smug twat, Meloy rescues himself with his self-effacing humour and wry, witty attitude. Musically, his band mirror the character of their talisman, who clearly has a voracious and varied appetite for music and funnels it directly through the filter of his intellect. The set thereby veered through REM influenced alt-country (“Down By The River” and the excellent, strumalong “Calamity Song”), almost 50’s doo-wop balladry (newie “Philomena”, introduced as “a dirty song!”), through the lengthy and slightly jarring prog workout of “The Island” and thankfully out the other side to the acerbic slow-burn country character assassination of “Los Angeles I’m Yours” and the tub-thumping, Violent Femmes-esque murder ballad of “The Rake’s Song” (“I don’t know why you’ve cheered – it’s a disgusting song – you’re all complicit!”).

Also, given the few times I’ve actually chanced to listen to the new album, I was surprised how vividly I recalled new tracks played tonight, testament to their increasing hookiness, and thankfully their move away from those “prog” days. “Make You Better” was a late set highlight, it’s subtle, moody verses ceding to an immense chorus and harmonic crescendo. Typically perversely, Meloy announced his intention to close the set with their worst number, strumming a couplet from “Dracula’s Daughter” before a fine “O Valencia” to finish a 1 ½ hour set that seemed half that. We got 2 encores as as well – a 3 song first, highlighting the galloping “Charming Man”-alike of “Sporting Life”, then “The Mariner’s Revenge”, a widescreen sea shanty involving some audience participation primal screaming as we disappeared into the belly of a whale. This amazingly took us to 2 hours, a lengthy wait for a set-list bearing fruit before a swift drive back. Varied, chameleonic, literary, highly articulate and cerebral, yet currently writing damn fine songs with memorable hooks; I’m very much enjoying The Decemberists!

808 THE DECEMBERISTS, Blind Pilot, Bristol O2 Academy, Tuesday 8 March 2011

I'd been warned about The Decemberists. A US alt-rock band that had been skirting around the periphery of my rock vision for awhile, I'd finally picked up current CD "The King Is Dead" and found it a lovely little alt. country-folk-rock collection of heart-warming tunes with a definite, almost devotional nod to the "Reckoning" era of nascent REM. A facebook message from no less a luminary than Geoff Van Duyne, former Army Of Jasons mainman, had however warned that, "they'll put you off rock'n'roll and you'll find yourself saying things like "Four And Twenty" instead of "Twenty Four"," which raised my pretentiousness hackles somewhat. An "Uncut" interview underlined this, suggesting that lead Decemberist, Colin Meloy, had a more cerebral than emotive attitude to playing music, potentially also ringing the "Prog Alert" alarms. Nevertheless, give 'em a chance...

A shit day at work also meant that I was really in need of a good gig, so off I went with a feeling of slight trepidation, zooming down and hitting the already heaving venue at 8.20, navigating my way onto the crowded floor just as support Blind Pilot were rounding up their nice but innocuous backwoods folk/ country set. An odd crowd as well, the Decemberists' massive; lots of granddad jackets, knitwear, glasses and facial hair in evidence. I felt very young indeed, and also as if I'd landed in a History Teacher's convention!

The Decemberists, led by mainman Colin Meloy, came on at 9 to a silly taped introduction from one Sam Adams, apparently Portland's Mayor, and eased into a catchy opener, "July". "Calamity", the REM "Talk About The Passion" clone from the current CD, was next up, and already the gregarious Meloy's erudite, wry and humorous between-song repartee ("this one's about a miner's uprising in 1917; just what you want, a topical number that talks to you about your life...") was winning me over, as was the understated, well-played and extremely well paced set. "Sporting Life", a touching Smiths homage with a Fall "Lie Dream" drumbeat, was embellished by Meloy with a "Charming Man" lyric reference. A gorgeous pedal-steel fuelled ballad was followed by a riff-heavy blues glam stomp with impassioned vocals from guest Sarah Watkins, which then was followed by Meloy slapping on a mandolin for "Crane 3", a gorgeous slow burn to a lengthy descending hook, and a set highlight.

Overall, this is a band that wears their influences firmly on their sleeve, and seems out of time, more at home perhaps in the jangly early 80's underground, along with The Smiths and the early countrified REM. I enjoyed playing "Spot The Steal" (a Stills drum intro here, a Pogues reference there, lots of little REM vignettes, even a drum dominated number recalling the National's more discordant moments) as Meloy, evidently a man with an impressive record collection but also an ear for simple catchy melody, dominated proceedings, and his bandmates sat back and indulged his foibles. The splendid 2-part harmony of the rollicking "This Is Why We Fight" was my set highlight, although a lengthy set-closing "Chimbly Sweep", featuring a blues interlude and lots of quirky audience participation, ran it close.

Two encores, including a preposterous but fun sea shanty "Mariner's Revenge" and a heart-rending parched final "June Hymn" rounded off a 2 hour set touchingly and very well. Fears largely unfounded, The Decemberists tonight delivered a very entertaining - and yes, in parts emotive! - performance. Good gig, just what I needed, and a lot better than the return journey, thanks to a stinky and lengthy diversion around the old Gloucester Road. Bah!