Webcomic: Hark! A Vagrant (www.harkavagrant.com). Effortlessly charming, Kate Beaton affectionately satirizes British, Canadian and, er, miscellaneous historical characters and events. The only qualm is that it is so irregularly updated.
Blog: Zeitgasm (www.zeitgasm.com), by British games journalist Graham Smith, one of many proofs that when it comes to original, intelligent journalism, it's always best to look to the mother country.
Music: Sky Larkin (http://www.myspace.com/skylarkinskylarkin), a Leeds-based band, who basically just make good tunes and play them with energy, which is a pretty obviously good plan, but one that few artists go for.
Writer: Samuel Johnson, who is worth investigating very thoroughly. His essays can be difficult to read, but contain many gems, while his conversation (recorded in Boswell's Life of Johnson) is glorious. His sole novel, Rasselas, is a marvelous distillation of his philosophy (which I find very sensible), as is his poem, The Vanity of Human Wishes, a powerful work which deserves a close reading. All in all, he is quite probably history's greatest literary all-rounder. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Johnson)
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Review of the Decemberists at the Billboard, January 25th
A sizable crowd showed up on the night of the 25th to see the Decemberists play the second of two shows at the Billboard on their first ever Australian tour. I doubt if anyone there could deny that it was worth the wait.
The support act, Sydney’s ‘Bridezilla’ were more than serviceable, struggling as they did with the crap sound customarily reserved for warm-ups (sibilant microphones, no low frequencies). Their violinist, Daisy Tulley, stole the show from an insipid frontwoman, leaping about the stage and cutting through the noise with bow-work that lay somewhere between the Arcade Fire’s Sarah Neufeld and The Velvet Underground’s John Cale.
However, Bridezilla were swiftly forgotten when the main act came out (after a worrying delay for what appeared to be guitar maintenance), launching straight into ‘The Crane Wife #3,’ the consumate slow-burning, starting from guitar alone, adding a thrilling bass-line, drums and all the rest of it, before reaching a crescendo of feedback, which led into ‘The Island.’ This was about the most proggish song they played, with its multiple parts, virtuosic organ solo and impressive changes of instrument mid-song.
The band then reined itself in, with lead singer Colin Meloy opening up a bit, cracking wise about Adelaide and Puffing Billy, before playing one of their earlier songs, ‘July July.’ I have never been especially fond of that song, verging as it does on atonal Smiths territory, however it sounded fantastic live. There is something about their peculiar organ-driven sound that is simply thrilling in the flesh, especially in so intimate a venue as the Billboard.
After this, we were treated to a hilarious raconte from Meloy, who both looks and amuses like a Northwestern Garrison Keilor. This tale was framed as an explanation for the next song, ‘The Apology Song,’ which was (apparently) originally sung over an answering machine to a friend to apologize for the loss of a bicycle. Following this, they powered through ‘The Rake’s Song,’ ‘The Engine Driver,’ and ‘The Bachelor and the Bride,’ each performed joyously and breathlessly, each wryly introduced by Meloy (the last one with a rather Crowded House-esque performance of a Doobie Brothers Song!). They launched next into my personal favourite, ‘O, Valencia!’ which I regard as a perfect example of how to make a 3 minute pop song, pumped full of hooks, riffs, tunefulness and most importantly life – I was especially impressed here by the work of Jenny Conlee, who switched from instrument to instrument, and even played Organ and Glockenspiel simultaneously.
Having built up the audience’s goodwill thusly, Mr. Meloy started to get a little more adventurous towards the end of the next song, ‘Sixteen Military Wives,’ which ends in a rousing chorus of la-di-das. Firstly doing the conventional line-trading routine, singing a line then pointing the mike to the crowd, who sing the next, he then announced he would try something a little different. While the band vamped, he got the crowd to divide in two down the middle. First he got the people on either side of the line to shake hands. Then to “sort of snarl at each other.” Then he got both sides to compete, trading la-di-das with each other, while shaking their fists at each other. The noise got to be downright deafening, as we lost our inhibitions and bawled our lungs out trying to ‘win’ the contest.
‘Chimbley Sweep,’ which followed this madness, is known to be the number on which the band go a bit mad, with members of the band having engaged in lightsaber duels on stage in the past (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51fCwGAue5Q ). No such luck this time, however Meloy and lead guitarist Chris Funk did engage in another kind of duel, with a richly ironic guitar battle unfolding, in which both sides competed to go one crapper than the other, playing dubious ‘scales’ while posturing like the rock gods of old and sending the crowd into fits of laughter. Then, to round off the ‘battle,’ they actually crowd-surfed.
The band then walked off stage, which led to calls for an encore that were intensely loud. So loud, in fact, that it distorted in my ears! Dutifully, they returned, to play ‘Eli the Barrow Boy,’ with the crowd falling absolutely silent for this quiet number, on which the awesomely named Mr. Funk showed off his skills on the hurdy-gurdy. Then they played their only cover, ‘Bye Bye Pride’ by the Go-Betweens off their album Tallulah. Evidently they expected the G-Bs to be rather more well-known in their native land than they are, as there was a vague feeling that the crowd was a little perplexed.
The final song was an absolute epic. Meloy instructed the crowd to scream and groan as if being eaten by a whale, whenever Chris Funk gave a signal, by way of introducing the 9 minute long sea-faring tale, ‘The Mariner’s Revenge Song.’ This was the Decemberists at their most folky, with its story of a rakish whaler, an orphaned privateer’s revenge, and the ‘providence’ of a whale, all backed by a accordion-led, punked-up two step, complete with waltzy interlude (for which we were led to sway seamanlike from side to side). Then, at the climax, Funk gave the signal, and the entire crowd moaned, groaned, screamed and wailed as we the ill-fated sailors were variously eaten or drownded. Colin got everyone to lie down, an order readily complied with as by this stage we were eating out of his hand. The band lay down too, as if dead. Then, upon his majesty’s orders, we leaped up and shouted and the band rose from their slumber to close this incredible ballad, first with the denouement of the plot, then with a final speeding up series of choruses, Jewish-style.
It was the perfect way to round off a nigh-on perfect set, easily the best gig I’ve ever been to. If I’ve overused the word ‘thrilling’ it’s because it’s simply the best word to describe the effect – I was thrilled to the soul, and left the venue with my ears ringing, my insides churning, and my heart uplifted.
(NOTE: I may have got the details of the band’s antics in the final song slightly mixed up, as there were rather a lot of them. The setlist can be found here: http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/the-decemberists/2010/billboard-the-venue-melbourne-australia-43d76fff.html . There are a few quite decent clips on youtube from this and the first show to peruse if you like.)
The support act, Sydney’s ‘Bridezilla’ were more than serviceable, struggling as they did with the crap sound customarily reserved for warm-ups (sibilant microphones, no low frequencies). Their violinist, Daisy Tulley, stole the show from an insipid frontwoman, leaping about the stage and cutting through the noise with bow-work that lay somewhere between the Arcade Fire’s Sarah Neufeld and The Velvet Underground’s John Cale.
However, Bridezilla were swiftly forgotten when the main act came out (after a worrying delay for what appeared to be guitar maintenance), launching straight into ‘The Crane Wife #3,’ the consumate slow-burning, starting from guitar alone, adding a thrilling bass-line, drums and all the rest of it, before reaching a crescendo of feedback, which led into ‘The Island.’ This was about the most proggish song they played, with its multiple parts, virtuosic organ solo and impressive changes of instrument mid-song.
The band then reined itself in, with lead singer Colin Meloy opening up a bit, cracking wise about Adelaide and Puffing Billy, before playing one of their earlier songs, ‘July July.’ I have never been especially fond of that song, verging as it does on atonal Smiths territory, however it sounded fantastic live. There is something about their peculiar organ-driven sound that is simply thrilling in the flesh, especially in so intimate a venue as the Billboard.
After this, we were treated to a hilarious raconte from Meloy, who both looks and amuses like a Northwestern Garrison Keilor. This tale was framed as an explanation for the next song, ‘The Apology Song,’ which was (apparently) originally sung over an answering machine to a friend to apologize for the loss of a bicycle. Following this, they powered through ‘The Rake’s Song,’ ‘The Engine Driver,’ and ‘The Bachelor and the Bride,’ each performed joyously and breathlessly, each wryly introduced by Meloy (the last one with a rather Crowded House-esque performance of a Doobie Brothers Song!). They launched next into my personal favourite, ‘O, Valencia!’ which I regard as a perfect example of how to make a 3 minute pop song, pumped full of hooks, riffs, tunefulness and most importantly life – I was especially impressed here by the work of Jenny Conlee, who switched from instrument to instrument, and even played Organ and Glockenspiel simultaneously.
Having built up the audience’s goodwill thusly, Mr. Meloy started to get a little more adventurous towards the end of the next song, ‘Sixteen Military Wives,’ which ends in a rousing chorus of la-di-das. Firstly doing the conventional line-trading routine, singing a line then pointing the mike to the crowd, who sing the next, he then announced he would try something a little different. While the band vamped, he got the crowd to divide in two down the middle. First he got the people on either side of the line to shake hands. Then to “sort of snarl at each other.” Then he got both sides to compete, trading la-di-das with each other, while shaking their fists at each other. The noise got to be downright deafening, as we lost our inhibitions and bawled our lungs out trying to ‘win’ the contest.
‘Chimbley Sweep,’ which followed this madness, is known to be the number on which the band go a bit mad, with members of the band having engaged in lightsaber duels on stage in the past (http://www.youtube.com/wat
The band then walked off stage, which led to calls for an encore that were intensely loud. So loud, in fact, that it distorted in my ears! Dutifully, they returned, to play ‘Eli the Barrow Boy,’ with the crowd falling absolutely silent for this quiet number, on which the awesomely named Mr. Funk showed off his skills on the hurdy-gurdy. Then they played their only cover, ‘Bye Bye Pride’ by the Go-Betweens off their album Tallulah. Evidently they expected the G-Bs to be rather more well-known in their native land than they are, as there was a vague feeling that the crowd was a little perplexed.
The final song was an absolute epic. Meloy instructed the crowd to scream and groan as if being eaten by a whale, whenever Chris Funk gave a signal, by way of introducing the 9 minute long sea-faring tale, ‘The Mariner’s Revenge Song.’ This was the Decemberists at their most folky, with its story of a rakish whaler, an orphaned privateer’s revenge, and the ‘providence’ of a whale, all backed by a accordion-led, punked-up two step, complete with waltzy interlude (for which we were led to sway seamanlike from side to side). Then, at the climax, Funk gave the signal, and the entire crowd moaned, groaned, screamed and wailed as we the ill-fated sailors were variously eaten or drownded. Colin got everyone to lie down, an order readily complied with as by this stage we were eating out of his hand. The band lay down too, as if dead. Then, upon his majesty’s orders, we leaped up and shouted and the band rose from their slumber to close this incredible ballad, first with the denouement of the plot, then with a final speeding up series of choruses, Jewish-style.
It was the perfect way to round off a nigh-on perfect set, easily the best gig I’ve ever been to. If I’ve overused the word ‘thrilling’ it’s because it’s simply the best word to describe the effect – I was thrilled to the soul, and left the venue with my ears ringing, my insides churning, and my heart uplifted.
(NOTE: I may have got the details of the band’s antics in the final song slightly mixed up, as there were rather a lot of them. The setlist can be found here: http://www.setlist.fm/setl
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
