Jeff Mangum was very polite when he reiterated the request to put away our cameras and phones: “Let’s just be together right now.” (Sorry, Jeff.) And with that, one of the fest’s great communal performances was underway, Mangum fervently strumming and wailing his way through “Two Headed Boy,” his voice leaving no doubt who was hidden beneath that beard and ballcap. As I explained in an essay last fall, Mangum is such an electric presence that he could have brought that entire field to its knees all by himself. I was right about his ability to conjure elemental forces, but man was I wrong that his solo show is just as good as Neutral Milk Hotel. They are a true unit, each of them bringing something special to the mix. It’s like I imagined in that essay: “Julian Koster juggling accordion, banjo, and singing saw like it was nothing, Scott Spillane’s French horn blasts accenting Mangum’s nasal caterwaul, a wave of wanton fuzz-crunch rising up to carry the rousing choruses home.” When all that unfolded in the flesh, it verged on mystical. During “In The Aeroplane Over The Sea” people were hugging in a big swaying circle and singing along, “Kumbaya” style. Audience members repeatedly exclaimed things like “You make life worth living!” I’ll not go so far as to say that they validated my life Sunday, but they certainly affirmed it.