A week ago I was off to see The Decemberists in Paradiso following the postponement of The Gathering’s concert in Rotterdam - which I didn’t actually have tickets for, but was feeling loyal anyway. Actually, I’ve been listening to Picaresque quite a lot in recent times, whereas I’ve barely touched the new Gathering album, so it should have been an easier decision, but loyalty is still important to me.

The support band was the Radar Bros, who I had reasonable hopes for actually. I’m not sure why, because I saw them play the QMU in Glasgow a few years back, possibly supporting Breeders, and they were fairly boring then, if harmless. This time, I confess I was pretty sloshed and barely remember them being onstage, and had my eyes closed most of the time as I was ready for sleep. But it really wasn’t just the alcohol. Their songs blended together in such a hazy, mellow way that nothing was memorable. I’m sure they’re nice guys and have some pretty moments on record, but when you’re supporting you really need to do something to stand out.

As for The Decemberists, well they were really good fun. Despite one of my closest friends proclaiming them awful and declaring them the music equivalent of the Fraggles, this description only boosted my concert experience rather than dragged it down. I can see why Colin Meloy’s voice can annoy, although I don’t particularly notice it myself now. Mainly I lose myself in the instrumentation, even sparing some thoughts for the lyrics, which is rare enough by my standards.

Overall they were very entertaining and talkative despite being a bit zonked with jet lag. More bands should make use of getting an audience to sit down now that James are mostly forgotten by the younger generation. And more bands should invite strangers to share their instruments - Megadeth and Corrosion of Conformity did so to better effect at my first metal concert, but with Megadeth in the old days, they’d have given up their instruments to anyone so long as they could play less and have more drugs, I imagine. Of course, Neil Finn did the ultimate by inviting entire Bands of Strangers for entire concerts (as well as it being an old habit at normal gigs), making for one of the most memorable gigs I’ve ever been to, but yes, more bands need to break down the boundary between band and audience. And finally, there was the Colin Meloy casually sprawled out on the floor of Paradiso incident. This worked out much better than the last time a drunken Chan Marshall ended up down there singing ‘Fuck the pain away!’ over and over.

A rather random recollection I know, but if you’re looking for accuracy check here. If you’re looking for photos try here. And on the off-chance that you haven’t heard The Decemberists, try this…

mp3: The Engine Driver

A couple of weeks back I was bold enough to go see Andrew Bird twice in Amsterdam - in Paradiso’s grote zaal on the Friday, then the following day in the sold out kleine zaal. Both gigs were really good, but the first night was more special for me, despite being there alone.

The set-up was weird firstly. It was advertised as a seated gig, but I guess it sold better than was expected and the plans were semi-changed so that only a scattering of tables and chairs were set out at the front of the stage, leaving the rest of the room standing as usual. It actually turned out better this way, as it meant standing further back from the stage, receiving superior sound quality, but still having no-one in my line of sight as i was directly behind the tables.

Support act Dosh came out perfectly on time, which is always a pleasant surprise at Paradiso, and proceeded to play an enthusiastic set of instrumental looped indie-rock, playing some drums, sampling himself, playing some fender rhodes, sampling himself, playing some more drums, sampling himself, bouncing steel chimes off the floor, sampling himself, playing some organ, sampling himself, fading in some excerpts from a school play he was in once, mucking around with a metal chain, sampling himself, and so on. So a lot of sampling, but he was joking in between songs and really enjoying himself, so the crowd responded pretty well to his instrumentals.

He announces his last song and that Andrew Bird had written lyrics for it recently, but he doesn’t know if he’ll sing them tonight. Well AB comes out a minute or so into the song with his violin and joins in, but he doesn’t sing - just adds violin parts. And before you know it, they’re into the full AB set without a pause, which was another excellent surprise.

Rather different to the previous solo sets I’d experienced, AB seemed to be in the mood to really rock out and played much more guitar than I’ve ever seen. There was still plenty of violin looping as it plays a prominent part of his songs, but it made for less whistling and glockenspiel moments and much more jamming on guitar, which was great because much of the set was very high energy.

Many of the songs from Production of Eggs were unleashed, but with nothing (or maybe just one) from Weather Systems. Then there was the mandatory version of ‘Why?’ which is different every night, but seeing as it’s warped so much since it appeared on The Swimming Hour, it’s hardly comparable to the original.

There were some lovely mess-ups, which always help to relax an audience. In particular, ‘Fake Palindromes’ took around five goes to get after AB forgot the lyrics, and slipped into a Willie Nelson vocal mode, resulting in confusion, laughter and struggles for Dosh and himself to get back into the song. But what was probably most special was the burst of new numbers - something like six in total - with both musicians seemingly extremely proud of the record they had just finished and wanting to share them. Some were rather instant (’Plastic Cities’, ‘Sycophants’ or sick of elephants) while others will need some growing, but with both the main set and encore ending with new songs (’Dark Matter’ and ‘Fiery Demise’? ‘Fiery Death’? Well ‘Fiery something’, respectively) it was rather special.

The next night was good too, but other factors played into it. One being the amount of walking that took place beforehand, and also the lack of food. Another being the uncomfortable heat and lack of air in the smaller room. The set was very different too.

Dosh was back on, pretty much on time, but he seemed a bit more out-of-it on the Saturday. Maybe even like he was sick, as he was blowing his nose a lot later on. All his sampling tricks were still there, but there was almost no talking between songs, and also less flourishes with his little bits and pieces of percussive metal. His set only lasted 20 minutes instead of 30, resulting in a 10 or 15 minute break before AB.

The main set in general felt mellower. It was hard to tell if it was just me, as I had snuck on earplugs this time, but the balance of songs seemed to fall more towards quieter and slower. Weather Systems in particular was back in vogue for this one, which was nice because it’s great to hear a different set, but it meant a major drop in new material. Of which, I think only one or two completely new pieces were played, plus the collaboration with Dosh, which tonight did include the AB singing parts.

Still, no complaints from me. Two nights with one of my favourite artists is always going to be rather exciting, and better to have two very different concerts than relive everything again.

So in tribute to those two performances and the not knowing when either artist will head back this way, here are some bits of media (not from Amsterdam) showing off some new songs to make you feel more involved.

Video: Andrew Bird & Martin Dosh - ‘Sycophants’ (sick of elephants sounds more fun)
Video: Andrew Bird & Martin Dosh - ‘Armchairs of the Apocalypse’
Video: Andrew Bird & Martin Dosh - ‘Plastic Cities’ (see he’s turning into a guitar musician)
mp3: Dark Matter

And so Dosh doesn’t feel left out, here are some tracks from his website.

mp3: Ankle Deep and Rising
mp3: South Finale
mp3: Nothing New

A couple of photos from Paradiso on the Saturday can be found here and here.

I haven’t been gigging too often in recent months. Partly it’s laziness, partly financial, partly me taking better care of my hearing capabilities. But a couple of weeks ago Dar Williams was in Dordrecht and that was close enough to warrant a Saturday night out.

See Dar is always charming live. Although I haven’t had proper exposure to her last couple of albums, I have seen her play twice in Scotland and it’s always lovely. Armed with an acoustic guitar, her honest folky lyrical style transcends the usual Americana words that I often can’t fully relate to. So even when she writes a literal song about New York, it transposes well to universal situations.

I must confess, it was one of the quietest shows I’ve been to – if you’re willing to overlook the first time I saw Cat Power live and was too afraid to move as my boot kept creaking on the floor if I switched weight from foot to another. Maybe it was a deliberate noise level issue as the venue was an official city building, Statenzaal ‘t Hof. Fortunately it didn’t take away from the enjoyment of the performance. It was just very noticeable sitting in the back row, albeit if the room was very small and pretty.

Admittedly you won’t earn many cool points for listening to Dar, but she is always fun and good at conversation, and her recent release My Better Self has a slightly sharper edge that some of her older material doesn’t. Due back in Holland in April, I’d quite happily catch her again, although perhaps not if it involved traveling to Amsterdam.

An extra shout out is deserved for the people of Crossroads Radio who put on the show. Although aimed at something of an older audience than I’m used to, the organisers are blatantly passionate about Americana and folk, and it was nice to be part of such a homegrown show where tickets were sold trustingly by email and word-of-mouth.