Frontman Colin Meloy (above) prefaced the final number by acknowledging the strict curfew his band faced, "Because ... this song ..."
"Is 80 minutes long!" a male audience member interjected, to the amusement of both crowd and performers.
Meloy conceded it in fact was, then provided instructions on when the audience should come in with a horrified scream (that'd be when guitarist Chris Funk's arms mimicked a whale's inescapable maw). Advancing in a line, the five took to stage front for "The Mariner's Revenge Song."
Accordion, mandolin, upright bass, wailing keyboardist Jenny Conlee and jigging drummer John Moen captured the mother-begs-son-to-avenge-her-death narrative. They swayed in choreographed time at the musical interlude, the crowd clapping in time and mirroring their rigid seamen's-leg stance.
And then that fateful night/We had you in our sight/After 20 months at sea
Your starboard flank abeam/I was getting my muskets clean/When came this rumbling from beneath
The ocean shook/The sky went black/And the captain quailed
And before us grew/The angry jaws/Of a giant whale
The rehearsed shrieks went up, followed by laughter, as Funk re-emerged from stage right holding up the back half of a massive, demonic-eyed, thrashing-tailed, angry-jawed whale. His remaining bandmates put up a good fight, but one by one, he "swallowed" all, leaving their bodies heaped upon the floor.
But soon, revived, they regrouped to jig, leap and high-five through the frantic, ominously building finale:
So lean in close/And I will whisper/The last words you'll hear
"Cirque du Soleil, eat your heart out, huh?" laughed the spent Meloy. "We're available for long engagements at the Mirage." –Julie Seabaugh