Neutral Milk Hotel

Camden Roundhouse | 23 May

As if ripped from the pages of Walden, Jeff Mangum takes to the Camden Roundhouse stage. Sporting frayed hemp overalls, a low-peaked hat and unkempt beard, he receives a riotous welcome. It has been sixteen long years since he and Neutral Milk Hotel performed in London. But tonight feels like the overly-anticipated embrace of a long lost relative. One that has been gone for far too long but returned with a greater sincerity and a greater acceptance of their musical majesty.

And yet, in an age of historical negligence and gig-goers with nanosecond attention spans, sixteen years has seemed like a lifetime. During which, salacious rumours of Mangum’s mental health have smeared the alternative sheets while the notoriety of the now-seminal In the Aeroplane Over the Sea only intensified. Thankfully, the doleful gossip sheds away as Neutral Milk Hotel’s unruly fuzz-folk sounds strong and unified in a room of contented revellers.

Tonight’s support slot is provided by Stereolab vocalist Laetitia Sadier. Her courteous, genteel cooing and humbled persona is almost subtly withdrawn. Her music, such as set closer Then I Will Love You Again, echoes the more intimate, mellow turns of Stereolab yet emphasise the soloist’s lack of memorability. Her ingredients of simple guitar moves and deep choral camaraderie are succinct yet ultimately off-colour. But it’s her genuinely infectious clemency that flourishes throughout the evening.

Hastily demanding no camera photography, Mangum wishes for his devout technophiles to ‘be in the moment together’. It’s a just request as he enters stage-left. Beyond the sea of phones capturing what is ten feet away from them stands Mangum: quietly-confident, secretly assured. Emerging on his own to the tender Two-Headed Boy, the crowd recount Mangum’s lyrics word for word before the original line-up are mated with their instruments.

The revived spirit of The Fool and Everything Is conjoined with the enduring classic reputation of Holland, 1945, The King of Carrot Flowers (Part One) and A Baby for Pree, recapturing the vivacity of a band that has influenced almost everyone from Beirut to Arcade Fire since their emanation. Tonight, it’s as if Mangum hasn’t opened his mouth since NMH disbanded. Swans-esque drone like interludes prove that their musical aptitude reaches further than yet another opportunity to ‘jig along’. And while Mangum had no intention of developing Neutral Milk Hotel beyond the string of live dates ahead, he along with his band seem fulfilled and grateful to be so warmly welcomed back to the living.

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Words: Tom Watson