About 10 minutes before The Decemberists are due on stage, the house lights harshly illuminate, accompanied by a distant voice, “This is a fire alarm… please calmly make your way to the exits.” A few people start to edge their way to the doors, but with no visible flames, the majority of people stand firm and pretend nothing’s happened. The Decemberists have a pretty hardcore fanbase – a fire certainly isn’t going to get in the way of seeing them play.
It turned out to be a false alarm, which pushed stage time back a bit, leading to a later curfew (which the band would milk to its full). There was to be no false start to the show, however, with singer Colin Meloy taking the stage alone to fittingly open with The Singer Addresses His Audience. The song’s lyric “But we had to change some / You know, to belong to you” is evidenced with many new songs displaying more of a pop edge than previous material, although the band have in no way turned their back on the past. In fact, tonight showed how the back catalogue is cherished and celebrated – Won’t Want For Love, 16 Military Wives and The Mariner’s Revenge Song were just a few oldies on display. The Singer Addresses His Audience itself was delivered in rip-roaring, blistering, panzer-pulping fashion by a set of musicians dripping confidence, class and craft, setting the tone for the evening.
 
It’s testament to The Decemberists’ skill that they were able to balance pop and prog so effortlessly in the same set – on paper it shouldn’t work, but there was no jarring of songs at all. Meloy works someway to smooth the gaps between – he’s extremely comfortable in directing proceedings, addressing his audience and introducing numbers. Down By The Water is presented as a song with Brighton in mind and beautifully performed by a band who know only too well how to wring every last drip out of their fantastic songs.
 
Meloy’s unmistakable vocals are bell-like in their clarity, and he is expertly supplemented by 2 female backing singers. They really come to the fore with cooing BVs on Philomena, soulful Ohs on Carolina Low, and a floating lead vocal on Won’t Want For Love, the latter being a definite high point with its primal pulse and nuggety riffage.
 
Older material really comes across brilliantly – Smiths-inspired LA, I’m Yours provides a slow smoothness at exactly the right time, 16 Military Wives and Rake’s Song both injecting bombast precisely when required. That’s not to say it outguns the new stuff – despite a couple of false starts with tuning gremlins, Make You Better is glorious modern indie and washes over the crowd like the magnificent wave of a song it is.
 
An hour and a half passes by in a mere flash, and before we know it, we’re faced with the reality of having to go back to our lives without Meloy and Co. However, my “plus 1” comforts me, “They do massive encores – at least another 20 minutes.”
 
Sure enough, the band pushed their curfew to the limit returning to the stage not once, but twice. The first encore consisted of the final 2 songs from recent album, What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World – a stunningly sensitive interpretation of 12/17/12 – and the rousing A Beginning Song.
 
Not satisfied that the audience had had their money’s worth, the band came back to play The Mariner’s Revenge Song – a fun note to go out on, involving lots of tomfoolery with luminous duct tape and onstage wrestling.
 
Playing that mammoth final song, The Decemberists looked like a bunch of people who knew they had the best job in the world. More to the point, they appear to be making a rather decent fist of it.
Adam Atkins