Jeff Mangum
Paramount Theatre, Asbury Park, New Jersey
September 30 and Monday 2

The new All Tomorrow's Parties site at Asbury Park on the Jersey shore (though many miles from that other Jersey shore) dubbed I'll Be Your Mirror, was billed as a Portishead-curated three-day ATP to replace the one formerly held at Kutsher's Country Club in Monticello, upstate New York. It was also the public return of enigmatic Neutral Milk Hotel brainchild Jeff Mangum. Which meant a world of confusion regarding ticketing for the event.

So: you could get a Jeff Mangum Friday ticket, granting entry to the first Mangum show plus one Portishead gig over the weekend as well as all the other acts over the three days. Then due to popular demand, a three-day Jeff Mangum Sunday ticket emerged, meaning no access to Friday's gig but a ticket for the added show. Then there were day and weekend passes that meant no Mangum love. (There were also four-day tickets that included a separate Monday night Mangum show.)

It made some sense, as it was the only fair way to ensure attendees and Mangum fans had access to a in-demand show over the three days. But it did lead to disappointment for many on Sunday who'd expected to see two sets. Unless, that is, you could luck out and score a ticket at the door from someone offloading extras. Somehow, I lucked out. I saw both shows and each was great for different reasons.

The lead-up to Friday night's set in the 1600-capacity grand old theatre was a tense affair, with great expectations and also a great deal of excitement for NMH fans, many (most? all?) of whom had never heard the songs from debut On Avery Island or the revered In the Aeroplane Over the Sea live. Besides two tiny and surprise New York sets last year and a couple of shows in Baltimore leading up to ATP, Mangum's NMH has been on hiatus since 1998. The weight of tonight's public return is aided by the presence of security stalking the aisles to keep cameras and phones well away from the stage (it's now almost a strange experience not watching a performer through someone else's smart-phone screen).

That air of tense expectation seemed to hang heavy over Mangum once he shuffled out onto the stage. Seated in the centre, he was flanked by a semi-circle of beaten-up-looking acoustic guitars, a stand with some music or lyrics and a few bottles of water at his feet. Without a word he launched into 'Oh Comely', and you could almost feel the collective release as that voice filled the room; yes, it was that voice, and within minutes it was more affecting than it's ever been on record.

With few words — at one point Mangum mumbled something vaguely apologetic, regarding his lack of things to say between songs — he opened up the vault on an incredible back catalogue, with 'Two-Headed Boy Part 2' and 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea', before moving into the older 'Song Against Sex' and 'Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone'. Mangum didn't need to speak between songs; the rapturous applause was sustained between each break before dying down respectfully fast in expectation of the next song. "Everyone loves you!" shouted someone, at one of the few times the audience dared say anything audible. Even Mangum humbly waved away the adoration, quipping, "I have to disagree with you, my friend."

But it was clear over the set — which came in at around an hour and 20 minutes, with a two-song encore and cover of Daniel Johnston's 'True Love Will Find You in the End' — that everyone did still very much love Mangum. His voice, startlingly raw and emotive, bent and reached above the top tier of the grand theatre, as the imagery of his lyrics danced vividly. I can't remember a more spine-tingling reverence hanging over a performance, to the point it seemed almost a crime for Mangum to have withheld it from the world for so long. And it was met with two standing ovations, in case the audience's love and appreciation wasn't obvious enough.

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Though it wasn't clear at the time, it seemed the singer was also feeling the pressure of expectation laid on him for the first show. Sunday's 3.30pm matinee set was a far more relaxed and jovial affair. While there was still some reluctance from the audience to sing loudly — despite Mangum's repeated encouragement to do so — the divide between crowd and performer gradually closed.

Most of this crowd hadn't been at the Friday performance because of the ticketing system, but Mangum wasn't about to repeat the set or mood. With more of a bounce in his step as he appeared on stage, the singer launched into 'Two-Headed Boy Part Two', 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea', 'Song Against Sex' and 'A Baby for Pree', before taking it down a notch with 'Oh Comely' and the Roky Erickson cover 'I Love the Living You'.

It wasn't far into the set when a far more relaxed and confident Mangum was coaxing the reserved crowd to be more vocal. He encouraged people to speak up with “insults or nice things”, to which people began shouting song requests. After a round of fans shouting the usual obscurities, someone yelled, “Play whatever you want!” Mangum smiled, everyone applauded and he continued on.

Mangum was much more vocal between songs here, occasionally mumbling a song meaning or its origin, but more readily engaging with the crowd and even firing back some jibes -- moments that didn't need much to emit laughter from another hugely respectful and responsive audience. "It's good to have you back!" one fan shouted; "Thank you, my friend," Mangum responded sincerely. Elsewhere, someone called out, “We’ve missed you, Jeff!" To which he quickly replied, “Well, we’re all here now.”

After again trying to coax the audience to sing along, Mangum eventually offered, “Please fucking sing this song,” and launched into 'The King of Carrot Flowers Part One' (followed by parts two and three). And by the time Mangum was in full flight, buoyantly singing, "Up and over we go, through the wave and the undertow," the audience had dared join in to sing and clap along.

Closing the set (before another two-song encore, this time of the wonderfully mournful 'Engine' and 'Two-Headed Boy') with one of the catalogue standouts - 'Holland, 1945' - Mangum again asked to hear voices. "Sing, please!" he urged. He also encouraged fans to sing the horn arrangements, then — in an apparent nod to the resurrection of Neutral Milk Hotel proper — teasing with the suggestion that perhaps they'd once again be filled by a band in the near future.

Such an insinuation summed up these two shows -- it wasn't simply a stroll down memory lane. It felt like the start of something bigger, with momentum (and Mangum's ease of performance) increasing with each show. He's said he has no real plans to record new material, particularly under the Neutral Milk Hotel banner, and he hasn't promised an endless run of shows. But fans should be optimistic. When he turned up in New York a few days later to play a loose and carefree 30-minute set at the Occupy Wall Street site (see clips below), it seemed pretty clear that the elusive and intensely private singer, who had been absent from the public eye for over a decade until now, has rediscovered the joy of performing. I think it's time to get excited.

Bronwyn Thompson

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