On Sept. 10, I arrived at the New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall, basking in the glorious feeling of not knowing what to expect. For years, I had clung to the band Neutral Milk Hotel as a walking companion, homework distraction, and evening ambiance as my family prepared dinner.

The gritty indie/folk band broke up in 1999, leaving lead singer, songwriter, and guitarist Jeff Mangum time to work with other artists and produce three solo projects. Mangum is currently on tour as a solo act, taking the stage with four beautiful guitars (assembled in a precise order for his convenience) a water bottle, and a single chair.

A string quartet opened the show for Mangum, trance-like the audience relaxed. One of their pieces, “Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet,” (composed by Gavin Bryars) silenced the audience with its sheer beauty and rhythm. The quartet played over an unknown man singing on loop, mixing their whimsical tones with the scratchiness of the recording and the warmth of the vocals.

The audience could barely hold their applause until the end; the crowd’s cheers grew louder as the quartet lowered their instruments and walked off the stage.
Itching with anticipation, the wait for Mangum was on.

Minutes later, a tall, lanky man walked out on stage. His messy hair was kept under a gray paperboy hat, and he moved with a slouch, as if he was there to make a quick adjustment to the guitars already on stage. The audience, however, was in gleeful hysterics—we were feet away from Jeff Mangum.

Mangum immediately began the set. Sitting, he picked up his guitar and broke into a Neutral Milk Hotel favorite “Oh Comely.”   His voice was just as clear and captivating as the studio recordings and his face twisted into a grimace to fit the pleasantly melancholy song.
At first, I was worried; would he be this dark and brooding throughout the show? Thankfully, “Oh Comely,” seemed to relax him. He finished the song with a smile as he received a positive reception.

“So, do you guys, um, have any questions?” he asked, producing a half grin.
The crowd immediately began asking him everything from song requests “Play Naomi!” to silly attention grabbers “Do you like cats?” Mangum answered the questions with quick, wry responses, leaving us all in fits of giggles. He continued the open forum in between every few songs, leaving everyone in the audience feeling as if they were having a one-on-one conversation with a man they wished to know.

Mangum primarily played Neutral Milk Hotel songs, including fast-paced fan favorites, “In The Aeroplane,” and “Over The Sea,” “Song Against Sex,” and “Holland 1945.”
During the heart wrenching song “April 8th,” the string quartet walked onstage and accompanied Mangum, making the once dark song almost feel delicate. They each played only a single note that served as a sort of bagpipe drone, as he transitioned between two songs in the same key.

Mangum also played “Engine,” and “Two Headed Boy Part 1,” as the encore. The soft, drifting songs almost felt like Mangum was singing us a lullaby, hoping to sing us to sleep so he could slip out when he was done, unnoticed. Unfortunately for Mangum, when he left the stage, we all cried out for more. Nearly everyone in the crowd stayed, clapping in unison, looking around at one another and smiling, hoping that he would return.
The lights came on, the doors opened, stage hands considered beginning to clean up, yet no one moved. After 10 minutes, Jeff shrugged back onto the stage, the crowd screaming with praise. Jeff took a seat, and looked up at us.

“I mean, I was really done,” he said, nervously looking from one side of the room to the next. “I didn’t mean to lead you guys on like that.”

He ended the night with “Ferris Wheel on Fire.”  I don’t think I had ever personally seen an encore unplanned before. Normally bands have it completely staged; holding their most popular songs for the grand finale, the last few encores. In this case, Mangum had a thousand fans asking him to strum one more song for them, and he graciously obliged. It was truly beautiful.

I walked out of the theater that night still stuck in a trance, the chords still playing in my head. It was in that moment that I realized just how talented Jeff Mangum is. He didn’t need lights, flashes or costumes—distractions that seem common in a lot of shows today. All he needed was four guitars, a bottle of water, and a chair.

That is magical.