The Decemberists Never Seemed So Strange

Phillyist didn't expect that a band known for its large vocabulary and weird, old-fashioned indie/pop/rock story-songs about ghosts, suicidal lovers, and seamen would deliver a crazed metal-style theatrical performance that was easily one of the best live shows we've ever seen. But that's what happened Friday night at the Electric Factory when The Decemberists took the stage.

Unfortunately, the night started with a performance that was pretty much the polar opposite - Cass McCombs' opening set. Cass lulled us into near unconsciousness with the kind of dull, somnolent tracks you might catch during the late night Echoes show on WXPN. The set picked up a little bit at the end (but only comparatively) when Cass left the snooze-folk behind and played us a bit of an old fashioned country/blues ho-down.

Finally, Cass left the stage and, after a typically (but still rather infuriatingly) long wait, the Decemberists made their entrance - and promptly made the long wait well worth while. The members of the band came on stage one by one, striking tambourines and other instruments as the roaring sounds of an enormous storm played in the background. After they'd all taken their places, they immediately rushed headlong into a non-stop, continuous series of songs which Phillyist is pretty certain was their entire 2004 EP, The Tain. The songs hold together as a complete unit, with recurring lyrical and musical themes, and move from speedy, near-metal heaviness, to slow, romantic softness. It's an excellent little indie-pop symphony, and the Decemberists brought it alive on stage with great energy and skill.

The Decemberists play an amazing number and variety of instruments, including the obvious (guitar, keyboards, electric bass, drums), and the not-so-obvious (violin, accordion, stand-up bass, and some type of mouth keyboard). Listening to them play is like standing in a calliope in the midst of a carnival in the 1920s, with the freak show just across the way. The entire show was playful and humorous. Although the band wore costumes and did a bit of acting on stage, they never took themselves too seriously, which kept the show light and fun even in the midst of the darkest and most dramatic songs.

By far the most exciting, funny, theatrical performance that night was that of "The Mariner's Revenge Song," which ended their regular set. This wonderfully odd, jaunty song (possibly the best on the excellent Picaresque) is about a mariner out for revenge who is fatefully swallowed by a whale along with the object of his vengeance. During the song, we were asked to wait for a cue, and then wail and moan and scream as if being swallowed by a whale. Phillyist always loves it when a band can include the audience in the performance of a song - it's kind of gimmicky perhaps, but it really makes the whole experience feel more exciting and collaborative - so we took to our role with gusto, screaming wildly with the rest. The band played with just as much gusto, dancing and leaping; the percussionist cradled a drum in his arms and beat it crazily as he lay spread full out on the floor of the stage, kicking in the air.

It was during the encores that the Decemberists really brought out the hardcore metal theatrics. The bassist performed a screaming solo, running first a microphone and then a borrowed violin bow up and down the strings of his instrument. Colin copied him by stealing a drumstick and striking his guitar with it, and then followed that up by climbing up the amps and into the balcony.

It was a fantastically fun night. The Decemberists are multi-talented, funny, endlessly entertaining, and definitely the real deal.