Elvis Perkins

One of the first things you notice about Elvis Perkins and his Dearland troupe is how imposingly tall they are. Honestly, when guest violinist David Duffy joins them onstage he is positively dwarfed. Most likely he’s not even a particularly short man, you think to yourself.

Well, I do anyway. But really, this isn’t the time or place. Nor is it ours to dwell upon the abundance of bookish singer-songwriters we are subject to, debate whether this melancholy lot have anything new left to say, or discuss the tragic gestation of Perkins’ debut album Ash Wednesday and the bereavement that so strongly informed it.

Tonight Perkins and his boys render all these points moot with the sheer quality of their performance. That’s not to say they don’t take a while getting there – after a pleasant enough solo rendition of ‘It’s Only Me’, Dearland take to the stage only to roll unsteadily into ‘Good Friday’, a purpose-built closing track if ever there was one. In its throbbing, repetitive swirl, however, lies some sense of where the night will take us, and in couplets as deftly affecting as “Come lay here beside me / And I’ll fear not death”, a sense of something approaching optimism begins to takes shape.

This is where things burst into life, as Nicholas Kinsey steps out from behind the drum-kit to strap a huge marching drum around his chest and the band launch into a rousing ‘All The Night Without Love’. Much of Ash Wednesday is aired over the following set, becoming a distinctly meatier, juicier proposition live. Long support tours with the likes of Okkervil River, Cold War Kids and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! (all of whom Perkins has collaborated with on stage) have evidently hardened Dearland. They are a finely honed, impressively muscular live act, and Perkins himself commands the stage with gusto and charm both aloof and genuine. Ballads are sped up, melodies barely present on the album are pushed to the fore, and aforementioned US tour compadre David Duffy occasionally appears to inject a stately grace into proceedings. He is bizarrely absent for ‘Sleep Sandwich’ though, an evocative love-letter/indictment of LA culture, where his strings could have propelled the band into a beautiful, twinkling orbit.

Nevertheless, this is a tight, wholly impressive show. Highlights include an interpretation of classic American ditty ‘Mourning Pilgrim’ penned in 1859 – the backbone of which is a frankly MASSIVE marching beat – and the riotous ‘Hello/Good Bye’ songs that close the set, where the band are literally bellowing out backing vocals and harmonies whether amplified or not. An encore raises the stakes further, the opening bars of ‘While You Were Sleeping’ drawing the biggest applause yet. Everything about this song is perfect tonight, its ambling, loose structure enabling the band (Duffy included) to return to the stage gradually, filling out verse after verse of spiralling warmth and ramshackle prose with commensurate poise and skill.

Trombone-led new song ‘Doomsday’ is boisterous, as much a glorious finale as it is a promise that new material from Mr Perkins and his backing players is shaping up to be something very special indeed. Call them delicate at your peril, then – if their formidable live aptitude isn’t enough to dissuade you, surely the staggeringly unlikely average combined height of those behind it is.