Live DC: Colin Meloy, Laura Gibson @ 9:30

April 15, 2008 by Greg  Send to a Friend

all photos: Joel Didriksen

This is for those of you who thought “Oh he didn’t think Spoon was great, he’s just being grumpy and critical for kicks and cred.” But behold, I yield to the greatness that is Colin Meloy. If you are a hater, turn back now. If you are a writer of fictions, then continue on to the lovefest.

Colin Meloy and Laura Gibson, both solo, played as close to a perfect show as I can imagine. This is not to say that the music was perfectly played, as evidenced by Meloy’s patented lyrical Alzheimer’s moments…but as a whole, this is what a perfect live show is like. We got old favorites, soon-to-be new favorites, covers, re-interpretations…the works…all in a much different atmosphere than normally found in a Decemberists setting.

Fellow Portlandite Laura Gibson was up first. I actually saw Musee Mechanique (her backing band for her last tour) at Wye Oak’s CD release party and was duly impressed by their musicianship. I was excited to see them again, but alas it was just Laura sweetly singing solo. Her vocals on Sunday were not in-your-face lush and gorgeous, but gentle, breezy whispers. She would only briefly allow glimpses of her true range and power. She preferred to remain wispy and ethereal. Think less scantily-clad, seductive, lush siren and more coy sprite/girl-next-door hiding behind trees giggling and looking down at her feet shyly; this was only enhanced by her fair skin which really shone in the bright-white stage lights, giving her an almost other-worldly, mystical appearance. Her music was light on chords, preferring to keep things just as wispy as her vocals with plucked and pecked, hushed streams of staccato notes. She delivered strains of lost deep-country folk at dusk, sung for few ears and easily lost if you aren’t listening for it. For the most part, the 9:30 kept pin-drop silent with few mid-set conversationalists in the audience and the ventilation completely shut off. Her music was enchanting and gorgeous, lithe and teasing. She basically set the intimate mood perfectly.

I’ve seen Colin Meloy front the Decemberists many times before, but never have I seen him solo. For those of you who are Decemberists fans, you may think there is little point to seeing him tour solo; and you would be wrong. The tone of the performance was as intimate as I can imagine possible. Something really only touched upon during the most affective of Decemberists songs. Solo, Meloy takes on the role of bard/minstrel, and we are his friends and neighbors, gathered at the tavern to hear his tales. His bookish, boyish nature and oft self-conscious humor build an effortless connection with the audience that is easily lost by a less charming performer who relies more on effrontery or an attitude of detached cool to conduct their live shows. Meloy just lays it out there, warts and all. Bare, with an unpretentious confidence.

With just a guitar and his vocals, Meloy produces an amazing amount of texture and range in tone of his music. His uncanny ability for scoring and composition really shines through. When he plays, his guitar lines never remain static, always ebbing and receding to appropriately accent or downplay his vocals. Meloy seamlessly segued “O Valencia!” into strains of “Dracula’s Daughter” which he jokingly referred to as the “underachieving kid” that eventually grew up. He also clued the audience into his original vision for “The Perfect Crime #2,” a stripped-down version of the Crane Wife track, sans proggy bass and synth lines, replaced by a more propulsive, “loping groove.” I found Meloy’s interpretation of Sam Cooke’s “Cupid” transcendant. Calling it a “teenage makeout song,” Meloy undercuts his cover which brings to the fore the sense of yearning in the classic song, really accentuated by a more fragile, folk (rather than soulful pop) approach to vocals and his harmonization with Laura Gibson.

Almost mid-set, there was a glimpse of the very bright future in store for Meloy and the Decemberists, as he played a couplet of new narrative songs detailing a pair of lover’s tryst in the forest and the villain that approaches and monologues them afterwards. Let’s just say Meloy’s knack for juxtaposing the hilarious and the shocking is working on overdrive with the framing of the villain’s child-killing misdeeds. DC was even gifted with a third new song, the rousing feel-good “Valerie Plame.” “Red Right Ankle” and “Engine Driver” proved to be the requisite Decemberists heart-breakers in the set, with “Engine Driver” really knocking it out of the park. “Tristan and Iseult” (from the Tarkio back-catalog) actually stole the most affecting song of the night award.

Meloy’s finale is an all-time highlight for me, as he proceeded to perform “Mariner’s Revenge Song” solo, enlisting and conducting the audience to fill in the chorus of the dead mother’s revenge-seeking vocals. The song’s vivid lyrics, epic plot and universal fan-beloved status, make it one of the most engaging and fun songs to witness live. All throughout the set, Meloy kept things light. Early on by readily admitting he is infamous for forgetting lyrics, and asking the audience to help him out. Later by often dropping witty, funny one-liners and telling anecdotes between or even mid-song. Pointing out and dwelling on imperfections. Meloy builds a comfortable and intimate environment that breaks down that deadly and energy-sapping fourth wall (that belongs in theater and not music) between the performer and audience.

Few artists of Meloy’s talent and stature are ever comfortable enough to take such a conversational approach to their live shows. Fewer still can back it up with their material, ability and charm. I feel lucky to be able to rabidly follow him in his prime. This is great, transportive music by a performer who is bound to become canon.

Sorry for the long-winded, fan-boyish gushing.

BIG NOTE: If you look hard enough, there is some audio and video floating around from this show.

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