It was so calm, quiet, and dark. All the crowd was waiting, while the opening band played. As more and more people began to file in, I became more and more anxious, knowing that they would soon be on the stage. The room was over half full now, but it wouldn't stay that way for long, as the minutes pressed on. Eager to watch them play, I left the room, still waiting for my friends to arrive. Now no longer alone, I begin to recall all the knowledge of the soon to play band, hoping it would ease the pain in the pit of my stomach. But to my dismay, it did not cure the ailment of impatience. Now my restlessness was seething, but my friends arrive one by one, and my pain is recognized. Now another fate is thrown upon me. My seat is whisked away, and I am left standing alone, with little but a waterbottle to call my own. But my pain is felt no longer, as they come onto the stage, and the room gets louder and louder every second, as everyone starts to notice their holy presence. The crowd shifts closer together, as those in the hall and lobby barrel in to join the applause and cheers. My heart almost skips a beat as the low guitar string bellows, initiating a saga of a song that warms the very nerves on my toes. "Here upon this pillow... made of reed and willow..." Twenty minutes later, as the last chords of the song are strung the same calm voice echoes throughout the room: "...and now she goes wandering... home..." The cheer that erupted afterwards will forever be imprinted on my soul. On and on the songs filled my joyous ears. "From all atop the parapets blow a multitude of coronets... melodies rhapsodical and fair... and all our hearts afire, the sky ablaze with cannon fire, we all raise our voices to the air..."; "It was ten years on, when you resurfaced in a motorcar... and with the wave of an arm, you were there and gone..."; "But I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground, but still I push my barrow all the day..."; "I am an orphan, an orphan boy. I've known no love, I've seen no mother's joy..."; "But you, my brother in arms... I'd rather I'd lose my limbs than let you come to harm"; "Some they crawled their way into your heart to rend your ventricles apart... this is the story of the boys who loved you..."; "The heavens at my birth intended me for stardom, rays of light shone down on me and all my sins were pardoned..." The crowd roared in awe, and wonder, and before I knew it, amongst all the cheering, singing, and gleeful crying, I was walking home alone with all the notes in my mind, forever over, yet forever just beginning. The memory of this night will always remain in my heart, because after everything else is abolished, destroyed, and ash fills the land, still april marches on.
(The Decemberists, live with Norfolk & Western, at the famous McDonald Theatre, Eugene, OR, 9/12/05)
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6 May 2007 -- Music Enthralled With Antics and Amazement: A Foreword on a Decemberists Concert
First, before entering the McDonald Theatre prior to the show, one must realize that to attend a Decemberists concert, in Eugene, OR, mind you, is to be unprepared about what could happen. At most concerts the band rarely speaks rather than to sing their songs and to say thank you and good night. But I think Colin Meloy has some sort of brain disorder, or blessing, that stimulates him into conversing with the audience at an almost minutely basis. Even during songs he will do this, such as Perfect Crime #2, in which he instilled a dance competition between avid dancers among the crowd in three separate circles throughout the hall. Also, other things can be expected in a Decemberists concert, such as mid-show calisthenics, or breaks in which the entire band lays down on the floor and pretends to fall asleep, during which they incur a magnificent silence to the crowd. They have previously had two members of the group high-five the entire front row of the audience to the sounds of folksy tunes, and have entertained us with magic tricks while tired of playing music. So when one attends a Decemberists concert, one should not be alarmed to experience antics such as this show, when Colin had a fan strum his guitar while he held out chords, or when they had a Eugene born vocalist guest sing a country and western tune about a "three-way", or when Colin borrowed a camera from an audience member and took pictures of his band while playing, and even a sound engineer waltzing on stage, or even when the entire band is engulfed by a whale on stage, only to "slip between its teeth." Because this is what to expect when attending a Decemberists concert. Oh yea, and a bevy of outrageously amazing songs written by a pure genius of words, half of which may be longer than six, seven, ten, or even eight-teen minutes long. My warning to you is this: do not think about going to a concert of the Decemberists if your mind is not prepared to be blown, and your socks are not prepared to be rocked off. Because they will be, and you will be sorry. That is all.
(The Decemberists, live with My Brightest Diamond, at the famous McDonald Theatre, Eugene, OR, 5/6/07)
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