The set started out with the band's trademark "California One/Youth and Beauty Brigade" combination from "Castaways and Cutouts."
Lead singer Colin Meloy's calm but confident voice led the rest of the group through this mellow beginning of the set, with dark lighting effects and a quiet demeanor.
Even though the band was relatively laid-back, the crowd was enthralled by the music, so when Meloy shifted into the more upbeat "July, July," there was a definite increase in the energy level in the room. The hit from "Castaways and Cutouts" is still one of the most popular songs among Decemberists fans, so its presence early in the set was unexpected. After "July, July" came the mock-ode "Los Angeles, I'm Yours" from 2003's "Her Majesty." It describes the city's streets as "orphans and oligarchs," painting a detailed picture of a dilapidated place.
The third song of the set was the first from the Decemberists' latest album, "Picaresque" (2005), which branches out from their minstrel-esque stories of ancient mariners to talk of modern issues. "Sixteen Military Wives" is the quintessential anti-war song, set against a blues-influenced song introduction that moves into a rock melody. The song tells the story of military wives seeing a country that sacrifices their husbands because "America can't say no." This is one of the band's most direct protest songs, but it also goes into a parody of the American media, mimicking the garbled messages of "the anchorperson on TV" with a playful chorus of "La de da de da."
After the impassioned "Sixteen Military Wives," the Decemberists continued with three more songs from "Picaresque": "The Engine Driver," "On the Bus Mall" and "Eli, the Barrowboy." These songs leave behind some of the theatrical qualities that Meloy normally writes into his songs, letting the stories stand more on their own. This subdued section of the set let the Decemberists' musicianship stand out. Their use of unusual instruments like upright bass, fiddle and accordion creates a very deep sound-one of the many qualities that attracts so many people to the Decemberists. Their interludes are as exciting as their verses and chorus, simply because of the interplay between the group members.
At one point, Meloy apologized to the crowd for his own lack of movement. "We had a dance party last night," he said. "My neck's kind of sore." Still, he kept the show moving. "Shiny," from their EP "5 Songs" (2003), followed-another ballad that infused the accordion into the verses to lend the song a sorrowful tone. For this number, he sent the band offstage and played solo, with just his acoustic guitar. He showed his own ability to carry a great amount of stage presence alone, but then brought the rest of the group back for "The Apology Song," a more upbeat and humorous song about a stolen bicycle.
The upbeat manner of songs continued with "The Sporting Life" from "Picaresque," a tune about a failing athlete, which the crowd couldn't help but dance to. The group proves that they know their fan base by parodying American high school sports, showing a misfit trying to make his way through a competition. After this, attention turned to the fiddle player, who sang a new song alone, a slow but haunting melody that's sure to appear on an album soon.
When they started "A Cautionary Song," from "Castaways and Cutouts," the band members seemed to be watching something at the back of the room. Given the ominous nature of the song, the crowd looked around as well, but it was not until the end of the story that two band members who had snuck offstage ran through the audience with black beards and capes on, and went back onstage for the high-energy "Chimbley Sweep," from "Her Majesty."
The band left the stage after this dance party of a song, then returned for an encore that showed their range as performers. They first played, "Of Angels and Angels," which seemed to bring the show to a slow close. Then Meloy broke into "I Was Meant for the Stage," starting slowly as the song plays on the record. But at the end, the entire band broke into a raucous cacophony of sound, lying on the floor with their instruments and finishing the night out by spinning around with an upright bass on top of them to complete the show.