“Oh, you again,” says Stephin Merritt in his inimitable droll baritone, settling himself onto a high stool before a tray of percussive gizmos and miniature keyboard and glancing out at arguably music’s most refined cult. He and his unassuming New York chamber pop band The Magnetic Fields – arrayed across the Union Chapel stage on ukelele, electric cello, acoustic guitar and synthesizer – have returned to treat the UK to a second stint of 69 Love Songs shows; Merritt’s three-hour 1999 magnum opus of broad-stroke romance, performed in full over two nights. And the hushed and reverent Chapel faithful know full well how blessed they are to witness it.
Still breathless, let’s rearrange history a little. On its original release, 69 Love Songs was a staggering, immersive, heartbreaking and life-affirming experience. With its melodic brilliance barely faltering throughout, this winkingly-numbered track-list covered every romantic angle from teen infatuation to marital murder, and virtually every sonic style short of ambient rap. It’s a quickfire tumble of folk, country, punk, showtune, synthpop, torch song, Tudor pop and samba, and that’s just before the mid-set interval on night one. Those that discovered the record were often lost in it for years, and revisiting it 25 years on it now stands as a singular songwriting achievement, the greatest and most limitless collection of songcraft since The Beatles’ peak and the best album it’s possible for an extant band to tour. And, delivered in affectionate recital mode, it’s a quiet wonder to watch.
