The Decemberists - London Royal Festival Hall, 2/10/07
4/5
By: Matt Tomiak
To say that the Decemberists are 'a five piece indie-pop band from Portland', as the Southbank Centre's official website does to advertise this gig, is a little like saying that Johnny Wilkinson is 'a rugby player from Surrey.' It doesn't really do justice.
The Decemberits really are so much more- storytellers, literary re-interpreters, historical archivists....oh, and possibly the world's best (only?) pop-prog band. Tonight, amidst the opulence of London's Royal Festival Hall, the offbeat Oregon collective are definitely leaning toward the latter part of that dichotomy.
Although Colin Meloy and co.'s infatuation with the arcane, archaic cultural legacy of these Sceptered Isles remains, there's a host of melodious, chippy, Britpop-indebted moments from The Decemberists' back catalogue which aren't aired tonight....no '16 Military Wives', no 'Summersong', no 'Engine Driver', no 'Sons & Daughters', no 'Billy Liar.'
Tonight's performance burns a little slower than all that. Opener 'The Tain', based on an ancient Irish folk tale, clocks in at 18 minutes on its 2004 cd version, and is extended beyond even that lengthy duration here. Even their more straightforward numbers from last year's opus 'The Crane Wife' such as 'The Perfect Crime' and 'Oh Valencia' resemble Radiohead performing a protracted version of the theme tune to 'Grange Hill.'
As an introduction to this truly beguiling band, a performance at the Shepherd's Bush Empire last spring may have served as a better starting point for newcomers, featuring a wider range of past glories that more accurately reflect the nuances of The Decemberists' fascinating past. Yet somehow, we're still not complaining one bit.
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