You shouldn’t entirely disregard everything I wrote in my review of 50 Song Memoir, the new as-advertised opus out from Stephin Merritt and his Magnetic Fields, but I do want to soften an accusation (“letdown”) I made in the headline.
After seeing Part 2 of the band’s two-night set at the Moore, I can tell you that the album is not a letdown at all. I spoke too soon. I had yet to see the record in its truest form.
In my defense, I heard rumors that Magnetic Fields shows are often tense with intra-band bickering and general social awkwardnesses, so I didn’t expect much from the live show. But holy dang, the production of 50 Song Memoir, like the best Magnetic Fields songs, is professional without being prophylactic, formulaic without feeling mechanical, and touching without being overly sentimental. In short, it’s perfect.
For the live show, over the course of two nights, the band plays all 50 songs from the record, in order. On day one they play tracks 1 through 25. On day two they play tracks 26 through 50.
There’s no opener, no encore, and they don’t play songs from any other album. There’s only the music, a few scripted moments where Merritt contextualizes the songs with witty anecdotes, a respectful introduction of the band about three-quarters of the way in, and several heart-warming / funny music videos that give your eyes something to do when you get a little bored watching Merritt sheepishly croon.
The evening runs about an hour and 45 minutes with one intermission and one costume change (from dark colors to light, springy colors). The whole thing feels like an intimate theatrical musical about a close friend, and it’s amazing.
The set looks like what you’d imagine Merritt’s living room to look like. (If you don’t want to imagine, see below.)
A pink proscenium border frames the scene, and a giant projection screen framed like an old mirror hangs above that. Surrounded by instruments and homespun creature comforts, Merritt sits on a stool in the center of the stage and variously sings and tells little stories.
Just before he plays “Haven’t Got a Penny,” for instance, the spotlight shines on a stuffed owl he says he bought for $39. He tells the audience that he’s never been good with money, and cites the owl purchase as evidence. During his early years in New York, Merritt explains, he was surviving on cigarettes and 37 cent bagels. That owl cost over a hundred bagels.
And that’s it! Multiply that cute little story times 20 or so, and you have a live music experience that actually enriches the album its meant to promote. That’s the thing that’s supposed to happen, right?
So long as 69 Loves Songs still rotates heavily in bedrooms and cafes, 50 Song Memoir will always seem a little lesser-than. But so long as Merritt is performing the new album the way he’s performing it now, then this brigadoon musical will be his great achievement.
Meanwhile, this show is on its way to Europe.
