If you're going to convince people to leave the house for a live, five-disc concept album, spread over two nights no less, there needs to be an excellent reason to for them to get up off the couch. The Magnetic Fields have provided several, creating a visually and instrumentally rich experience that magnifies every aspect of 50 Song Memoir.
A cross-section of a child's room sits in the centre of the stage like an open-faced macro dollhouse. Through large 'windows' - with drawn wooden curtains covered in pineapples - six impressive clumps of instruments are visible in an evenly spaced semi-circle. Inside are Stephin Merritt's collection of actual dollhouses, some colourful dressers, a stool and a mic stand.
Above the stage dangles a large projection screen edged with a gaudy, illustrated frame and short film clips or animations accompany most songs; Second track '67: Come Back As A Cockroach features a revolving 'wheel of life' gripped by the grinning Hindu god of death, Yama. '74: No paints deluded believers in stained glass windows like absurd saints.
Despite playing around ten instruments Merritt rarely picks one up throughout, instead focusing on vocals - although he does play wonky slide on an electric guitar he got at 13 to great effect in 78: The Blizzard Of '78. The Magnetic Fields, including several touring members, each have more ability than is strictly necessary and they more than split the difference - there are supposedly 49 instruments divided between them. Quince Marcum's mix of percussion and brass is especially impressive and Pinky Weitzman casually bows the violin, musical saw and Stroh violin. The last adds a sepia tone to nostalgic tracks like '14: I Wish I Had Pictures, while the saw produces a trembling keen similar to a theremin.
In between songs, Merritt expands on his personal history in a measured, baritone drawl, adding texture hewn from his unorthodox upbringing. His dialogue is smoothly scripted and like a synthpop Noel Coward, these snippets are flush with the droll humour nimbly captured in Merritt's lyrics. It's almost a shame the Fields didn't take a note out of The Wu-Tang Clan's book and release a version of 50 Song Memoir with the preludes included.
He warns the audience early that he's no fan of autobiography, and that autobiography doesn't necessarily equal truth. Sometimes an impressionistic approach reveals more than stolid realism ever could and recreating our earliest years will always necessitate some level of invention. For practical reasons this goes doubly so in verse - Merritt shares that the "John" who inspired '95: A Huge Mistake will be referred to as "Jake", for instance. As such anecdotes like the funeral of his mother's former (shitheel) lover, attended only by six ex-girlfriends, all named Linda, are happily taken with a grain of salt.
When we come to his time in LA - '07: In the Snow White Cottages - Merritt claims he planned to write 50 musicals. Let's hope he revisits the idea.
