Decemberists' leader builds a storied reputation

Colin Meloy's appearances in the Boston area are becoming fabled. The last time he played here with his full band, the Decemberists, the PA system crashed at the Paradise, forcing them to go unplugged for the final few songs. It was a magical moment as the crowd huddled close to the stage and Meloy led them in a sing-along of the Smiths' "Ask." Meloy now says it was a "transcendent" experience for him.

He was set to come back for a solo gig last month, but it was canceled because of a snowstorm, and on his return to T.T. the Bear's Monday night, the weather was nearly as imposing.

"Sorry it took me so long to get here, and sorry I brought snow with me again," Meloy told the sold-out crowd. "I don't know what my deal with Massachusetts is."

The spirit of that Paradise gig seems to have stayed with Meloy as he played a 90-minute set armed with just his guitar, a wisp of indie-rock hair falling into his eyes, and enough pithy banter to win over his fans yet again.

Stripped of the Decemberists' ragtag theatrics (pirate costumes, fake mustaches, snaking drum lines), Meloy is a real storyteller -- the old-fashioned kind who revels in gathering his admirers around a campfire and spinning elaborate, so-called autobiographical tales about how his mother was a Chinese trapeze artist. From anyone else, this would seem grossly affected.

Drawing heavily from the Decemberists' early albums (particularly "5 Songs"), Meloy began with "Shiny," which took some getting used to when devoid of Jenny Conlee's wonderful accordion melody. Eventually, though, you could imagine that these songs were written for Meloy only. Only in rare cases were his bandmates conspicuously missing, such as on "The Gymnast." Already slow on record, the song dragged to the five-minute mark.

Meloy previewed two new songs, including "The Engine Driver" from the Decemberists' upcoming "Picaresque," and "The Bandit Queen," which did not make the final cut. Meloy said the band couldn't get through the song without being silly, as it's replete with a tap-dancing interlude (provided at T.T.'s by two eager audience members) and dialogue worthy of an old-school Western.

Meloy's covers of Morrissey songs ("I've Changed My Plea to Guilty" and "Sister I'm a Poet") were earnest and heartfelt, but they seemed best suited to hawk the tour-only tribute album available after the show.

By the end of the evening, it was clear that Meloy gets serious mileage from his charm. Not everyone can get away with using language last heard in college English courses (quick -- what's an "odalisque"?) or saying he'll play a "traditional folk song" and then offering an acoustic version of Cheap Trick's "Southern Girls." But this is what endears Meloy to his audience. It's a different brand of admiration than what's afforded other indie musicians, such as Conor Oberst. In Meloy's case, it's mutual.

Colin Meloy
At: T.T. the Bear’s Place, Monday night