A Cautionary Tale

Phillyist is thrilled to welcome Pencopal to our growing staff of writers. She's a self-described "opinionated tv/movie/concert/cd/book junkie," who likes to mix her Welch's Peach Grape juice with good vodka.

He made us say please. And we kind of liked it. The bartender at Whiskey Dix scared us, but we persevered and kept ordering drinks anyway. Our goal was to be the only obnoxiously drunk pair of girls at the (prog) folk rock meanderings of the Decembrists at last night’s Electric Factory show. The drinks were strong and the bartender was mean, but we forgave him.

Unfortunately, after stumbling over to the EC, we couldn’t forgive the opening band in the same manner. Maybe it was the lead singer’s dress, or perhaps it was the kindergarten jams and cross-stage frolicking. But whatever it was, only the stoned could’ve appreciated Lavender Diamonds. The band was a buzzkill in raiment white.

Luckily, our picaresque adventures began. We met the three merry men, who were longshoresman from Levittown. Only one of them was a true fan of the band. His friend was slightly interested in the music, but more concerned with meeting girls. The third said he was only there for the Mariner’s Revenge song. He regaled us with tales about the awesomeness of Danzig, his bushy mutton chops punctuating his every word. Once the merry men found out there was no prospect of us all making music together on the couch in the cabana, they went on their merry way.

The Decemberists took the stage and our heart practically exploded at the first strains of “Crane wife.” The show was equal parts sing-along, stomp-along, rousing revival, and thoughtful meditation. At times, like during “Red right ankle,” Colin Meloy’s voice held us all in such a trance one could’ve heard a pin drop in the cavernous theater.

It was the sort of show at which everyone around you becomes your pal for the evening. Nick Knowledge and his brainy group joined us in the cabana, singing along raucously to “sixteen military wives.” We all caught a douche chill together when the band broke into the Eagles cover “Take it to the limit.”

Colin and crew popped our cherry last night. It was our first Decemberists show, and it won’t be our last.

Set list:
Crane wife 3
The island
We both go down together
Engine driver
Yankee bayonet
The perfect crime
Shankill butchers
Song for Myla Goldberg
O Valencia!
July, July!
Sixteen military wives
The crane wife 1 & 2
Sons and daughters
Red right ankle
Take it to the limit
The legionnaire’s lament
A cautionary tale

Image credit: retrogradeheart on Flickr.