Tuesday 02/10/07 The Decemberists @ The Royal Festival Hall, London

Despite looking like a bunch of nerdy librarians, Portland’s finest The Decemberists have undoubtedly crafted one of the best albums of the past twelve months in the shape of ‘The Crane Wife’.  Tonight at the ornate surroundings of the Royal Festival Hall on London’s South Bank, the five piece are playing the largest date of their UK tour - in fact, their largest gig on these shores to date - and from the offset it’s clear that they’re more than up for it.

On record there’s little to suggest that The Decemberists could be such a live spectacle, but as soon the bumbling and extremely genial Colin Meloy tells the surprisingly unreserved crowd “we’re gonna play some music for you, you pay money, we entertain you, that’s how it works” and proceeds to launch into the epic segues of ‘The Tain’, it’s a delight in every possible sense. Meloy’s unique voice is as warm in the live arena as on the beautifully crafted records they create, while Jenny Conlee is very much the anchor woman with her Hammond organ grooves. But it’s John Moen who adds the fun factor drifting between instruments and later in the set even treating us to a bizarre, yet highly amusing Morris Dance-esque jig. Crucially though, they all look as though they’re having a bloody good time, which is highly infectious.

Tantalisingly it’s not until a good twenty minutes into the set that the band unleash the first song from ‘The Crane Wife’, the impossibly uplifting and gorgeous ‘Yankee Bayonet’, which sees Conlee shine as she steps up to the microphone to take the lead vocals. This is swiftly followed by a poignant 'The Crane Wife 1’ and a brilliant ‘The Culling of The Fold’. Clearly nonplussed by the lack of movement from the all-seated crowd, Meloy decides to take things into his own hands shortly before ’‘The Perfect Crime' asking us all to hold our hands aloft and wiggles our fingers like the “tickertape parade” they later sing. It’s a gentle reminder of what all this gigging lark is really about - having a good time.

The undoubted zenith of the evening comes in the form of ‘The Island’, every one of its twists and turns throughout its twelve minutes engaging and perfectly executed. Really, it’s spine-tingling stuff. Musically, they can’t really top this moment,  but ever-inventive they make sure the show goes out with a proverbial bang. First Meloy treats us to an acoustic solo number, then the boisterous John Moen prompts the crowd into a mass scream as he leaps from side to side of the stage during 'The Mariner's Revenge Song'. True, it may sound tacky, but it’s a liberating experience and one that leaves Gigwise still grinning like a twat as we exit. Brilliant.