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We missed the first support act, instead enjoying the atmosphere of Nottingham’s finest drinking establishments, but caught the second one. A female solo artist who played a mix of lovely Scandinavian folk (I think she was Swedish) and some sort of mellow dance-electronica. The former, played on guitar and piano was a really nice mood-setter, the latter being a little weird.

A performance that stirred the audience with emotion and left one of those tingling sensations that hangs in the air between songs

The main act blew me away from the start. Will Sheff has one of those voices that sound so good on record, and I struggled to imagine him sounding even better. Fortunately he did, and the audience hung on his every word. The rest of Okkervil River were fantastic also, the six of them rotating instruments that ranged from guitars, keys, organs, steel guitars, mandolins, trumpets and more. The calm moments were so tranquil and beautiful, the upbeat parts bouncy and catchy, and the loud bits atmospheric and heavy, that when coupled with Sheff’s lyrics and melodies, provided a performance that stirred the audience with emotion and left one of those tingling sensations that hangs in the air between songs.

They bashed out all the best songs from the latest LP, The Stage Names, an equal number from my favourite, Black Sheep Boy, and a few oldies. The highlight had to be the song ‘Stone’, performed only with acoustic and steel guitars. Such an emotional performance combined with the intelligent, heartfelt lyrics made this a show I certainly won’t forget in a hurry, despite my arguably large consumption of Guinness Extra Cold.

And I think I believe, that if stones could dream,
they’d dream of being laid side by side, piece by piece,
and turned into a castle, for some towering queen,
they were unable to know.

And when that queen’s daughter came of age,
I think she’d be lovely and stubborn and brave,
and suitors would journey from kingdoms away,
just to make themselves known.

And I think that I know, the bitter dismay,
of a lover who brought fresh bouquets every day.
And she turned him away, to remember some knave,
who once gave just one rose, one day, years ago.

Stone, Okkervil River