The Decemberists skillfully showcase new material and old favorites in St. Paul
by Macie Rasmussen and Steven Cohen
May 20, 2024
Almost exactly six years after the Decemberists last visited Palace Theatre, the Portland-born band returned to the stage on Sunday night. (They last played in Minnesota in 2022.) The tour’s St. Paul stop comes on the heels of As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again — the band’s 10th album, and first in six years — due on June 14. Led by vocalist and guitarist Colin Meloy, the Decemberists mixed new material with tracks from the past two decades, all while fashioning their feel-good folk sound with instrumental precision.
The evening began with an absolute treat: Ratboys set an easy, breezy atmosphere with what lead vocalist Julia Steiner calls “roll and rock tunes.” The Chicago-based band reached a career high with the release of The Window last year, which meshes together country twag on “Morning Zoo,” folk on “The Window,” and pop on “Crossed That Line.” The sound was as lush as the stage’s background panels: floral and mountain images. Ratboys’ music is fit for a picnic, road trip, or hike. Even “It’s Alive,” a song about anxiety that prevents someone from leaving the house, is cheery; Marcus Nuccio’s peppy drum loops and Steiner’s flying V guitar were filled with passion and a quirky undertone.
Just like Ratboys, the Decemberists’ music can transport listeners into nature. “Picture yourself in a dense forest… mist in the trees,” Meloy said while tuning his guitar midway through the show. Beginning with a few acoustic songs, including “Don’t Go to the Woods,” under dim, warm lighting, the atmosphere felt like Meloy, Chris Funk (guitar, pedal steel, banjo), Nate Query (bass, cello), Jenny Conlee (keyboards), and John Moen (drums) — as well as Lizzie Ellison, Victor Nash, and Bob Beahen on select songs — were welcoming the audience into a cozy cabin in the woods. There was nowhere to go, and no reason to leave — just people gathered to briefly escape the outside world.
Tender and charming tracks like “Burial Ground,” with percussionists commanding cymbals and shakers, and “The Crane Wife 1,” with Moen’s marching drums, felt like songs to be sung around a fireplace. After the audience sang along with the “la la la’s” on the latter, Meloy called the theater a communal choir. On the former, after ending with the words, “It's a contract malarial, meet at the burial grounds,” Meloy voiced his amusement hearing the crowd sing about malaria, then assured them he meant no harm.
Then there was story time. Who doesn’t want to tell childhood tales during a sleepover? Meloy calls some of the Decemberists’ songs “semi-autobiographical,” and that includes “The Sporting Life,” where he sings of athletic failure marked by a disappointed father and girlfriend “arm in arm with the captain of the other team.” He described the yet-to-be-released track “Long White Veil” as “a ghost story.” Perfect for the middle of the woods, if you ask me.
A hot gossip and venting session was also on the agenda for “Severed.” Filled with hostility, maybe about an ex, a potential partner who ghosted, or a friendship fall-out, Meloy sang, “Don't you get clever / I'm allied to the landslide / Gonna leave you all severed / Gonna leave you all severed.” It was easy to imagine people sitting around a table, leaning in to hear the juicy details.
“I’m going to tell you a story,” Meloy said when introducing “16 Military Wives.” Released on the band’s 2005 album, Picaresque, many speculate the song portrays the United States as a narcissistic perpetrator in the Iraq war and the media’s complacency reporting on it. Meloy saluted on stage each time he sang the chorus: “Cheer them on to their rivals / 'Cause America can, and America can't say no / And America does, if America says it's so,” with a trumpet blaring in the background. When viewed through the lens of 2024, the decades-old song still holds weight.
There was also an impromptu dance party, as if someone grabbed an aux and queued the hip-shaking Latin beat on “Oh No!” after a few drinks. The horns and lively accordion by Conlee constructed a seductive sensation.
Becoming existential on the closing song, Meloy asked himself in a dazed melody, “If I am waiting, should I be waiting? / If I am wanting, should I be wanting?” and “If I am hopeful / Should I be hopeful?” The band met him with a comforting jubilee in the form of their signature folk instrumentation.
Finally, the weekend trip was over, and the band left the stage. Unsurprisingly, they couldn’t leave without a Minnesota goodbye — a lengthy one at that. Clocking in at almost 20 minutes, the encore, “Joan in the Garden,” may be the Decemberists’ most experimental track to date. The moody song slithered into a slow-burn midsection to build into a psychedelic sound and end with a roar of heavy riffs. Some in the audience got antsy and began gradually trickling out of the theater; no extended farewell needed for them. We all ventured back to the city eventually with only a tranquil memory of looking out a cabin window into a dense forest to watch mist float through the trees.
Setlist
Red Right Ankle
Don’t Go to the Woods
Leslie Anne Levine
Don’t Carry It All
The Infanta
Burial Ground
The Crane Wife 1
The Soldiering Life
Oh No!
Long White Veil
The Sporting Life
The Queen’s Rebuke / The Crossing
Severed
16 Military Wives
A Beginning Song
Encore
Joan in the Garden