The Decemberists

On Sunday night, I saw the Decemberists play at the Fillmore Auditorium in Denver, and it was beyond delightful. Their live performance is even better than their studio recording (which is very good, indeed), and they interact well with their fact, interactive would be the key word.

Their music is difficult to describe. Words that come to mind are: sepia-toned, fanciful, nautical, folkloric, and thoughtful. Primarily, The Decemberists are storytellers, and they compliment their tales with music that's often reminiscent of sea chanteys and/or beautiful folk compositions.

I'll admit that when I first heard the band, I was taken by the lyrics, but I had a difficult time adjusting to Colin Meloy's unique vocal stylings. I kept listening because the pictures painted are so vivid that they've made their way into my fantasies, and now I'm fond of every aspect of the music including the vocals. There's an honesty and passion here that I find endearing, and it's become a part of the musical fabric that helps to define my world.

As an aside...I rarely go to a concert where someone doesn't manage to spill a beer or some other alcoholic beverage on me, and this was no exception. In this case, it happened while I was sitting in a toilet stall (for which I waited in the longest line that has ever existed). At the very moment that I saw the splash of vodka and lime penetrating my shoes, I heard a very passionate cry of "Noooooo!!!!!!" Honestly, I don't blame the girl for being upset. The drinks at the Fillmore Auditorium were $7.00, a price tag that I didn't discover until after I ordered a beer for myself.

Seriously...Fillmore folks. This is highway robbery, especially for a beer served in a plastic cup. If I'm going to spend enough money to buy the whole six pack, I'd like to cradle the bottle for a little while. I promise not to hit anyone with it. Honest.

And to the cute indie girl who kept touching my ass: Thank you for the titillation...even if it was an accident.