Ryan Brennecke / The BulletinThe Decemberists perform Friday at the Les Schwab Amphitheater in Bend.

I tried to come up with some sort of overarching way to write about the three concerts held last weekend at Bend’s Les Schwab Amphitheater. I thought long and hard about a way to tie them all together in a way that leads to one great musical truth.

Alas, sometimes three concerts are just three concerts. Three excellent concerts.

So here’s a recap, in chronological order. Apologies to The Districts, whose opening set Friday night I missed.

FRIDAY

• Spoon is a great band with a whole bunch of great records in their catalog. Probably a bunch of great shows, too, but their Bend debut wasn’t one of ’em. Forced to play in — *shudder* — the sunshine, Britt Daniel and company seemed oddly disengaged, like they were just going through the motions until The Decemberists’ headlining set.

The band stuck to songs from three of its four most recent albums (ignoring “Transference”), with a heavy emphasis, understandably, on this year’s excellent “They Want Your Soul.” That record crackles with energy, but Spoon’s set started off sluggishly — “Rent I Pay” felt noticeably slower than its recorded version — and never really took off. By the time the band found the groove in “The Underdog” and “Rainy Taxi,” its time was up. An acoustic-driven “Black Like Me” was an odd choice for a closer.

•The Decemberists, on the other hand, showcased all of their considerable skills Friday night. The first half of the band’s set featured some of its best folk-pop tunes: the bouncy “Billy Liar,” the glorious horn parts of “Calvary Captain,” the early-R.E.M. strum of “Calamity Song,” which frontman Colin Meloy introduced by revealing its roots as a tune written to coerce his son into eating his breakfast.

Then the band flexed muscles skeptics refuse to believe it has, playing the 12-minute multipart epic “The Island,” a series of songs from its prog-rock album “The Hazards of Love” and a thunderous version of “The Rake’s Song” as the light show turned ominous to match the heavy riffs.”

The Decemberists are often described using any number of derisive adjectives — pretentious, twee, clever, Portland-y — but if you ever get to watch Meloy, Jenny Conlee, Nate Query, John Moen and Chris Funk wrangle a big, gnarly rock show out of their instruments, they’ll melt those words right out of your head.

The band wrapped its set with three wonderful pop songs — “16 Military Wives” was particularly raucous — and its traditional encore (“The Mariner’s Revenge Song”), and it was somewhere during that stretch when I looked up at Meloy and thought to myself, “Wow. The Decemberists are truly one of our best bands.”

And I believe that. They have an extensive catalog of excellent-or-better songs. They deliver them flawlessly. They have a charismatic frontman (who has a punky new haircut). Last time they played the Schwab, they seemed right at home. Maybe it was the heavier setlist, but this time, it felt like they’re ready for their next step toward world domination.

SATURDAY

• I’ve never been a huge Jenny Lewis fan, going back to her days as the leader of beloved 2000s indie rock band Rilo Kiley. But I find her swanky new album “The Voyager” to be pretty likable, and she certainly embraced her role as a warm-up act for Ryan Adams, engaging the growing crowd both in performance and between songs.

Lewis played some mildly funky songs from across her solo career, but she also played at least four Rilo Kiley songs, no doubt delighting longtime fans. One of those was “Portions for Foxes,” in my estimation the best thing she’s ever done, so I was happy. And eating nachos.

• Ryan Adams, on the other hand, is one of my five favorite musical artists of all time. Let’s just get that out there right now. So I have been anticipating his Bend show since the amphitheater announced it in early February.

The guy didn’t disappoint. Backed by his powerful and efficient band The Shining, Adams played for more than two hours, plucking great song after great song from an oeuvre that is, in my opinion, unmatched over the past two decades. The amazing thing is he could’ve played another two — maybe four hours — without a significant dip in quality.

All night, Adams bounced around his diverse discography, playing ragged rockers (“Gimme Something Good,” “Shakedown on 9th Street”) and drawn-out Deadhead jams (“Magnolia Mountain,” “Peaceful Valley”) and quiet, gorgeous folk songs (“Oh My Sweet Carolina,” “When the Stars Go Blue”). Expected highlights included “Let It Ride” — arguably my favorite Adams song — and a spirited take on “To Be Young.”

It was the unexpected that made the show, though: the rootsy slow-burn of “This House is Not for Sale,” the pillowy twang of “Dear Chicago” and a stark, solo cover of the old Oasis hit “Wonderwall,” right on the heels of a gorgeous rendition of “When the Stars Go Blue” set against a backdrop designed to look like a sky full of softly glowing stars. It was sublime.

(That said, I can’t go without noting that Adams — a big fan of extreme heavy metal — led his band through a short, cheeky black metal-style cover of “16 Days,” an alt-country classic that his old band Whiskeytown released in 1997. Fog billowed from behind the drum kit, Adams growled and howled, and I swear the ends of my grin met on the back of my head. Amazing.)

MONDAY

In the interest of space, I’m skipping over Oklahoma early-rock ‘n’ roller J.D. McPherson, whose energetic set Monday evening appeared to win over the crowd gathering for former Led Zeppelin frontman Robert Plant.

Plant, on the other hand, had no winning over to do. He had Monday’s crowd in the palm of his hand, and he probably has for three or four decades. Plant’s most recent album — 2014’s “Lullaby… and The Ceaseless Roar” — is a solid slab of globally inspired folk, blues and rock, as is much of his solo work.

But this is a man who will forever live in the shadow of Led Zeppelin. On this night, at least, he embraced that legacy, playing some of the band’s classic rockers (“Black Dog,” “Dazed and Confused”) as well as some folksier numbers (“Black Country Woman,” “Going to California”). But I thought it was noticeable that his band — the Sensational Space Shifters — seemed to kick into a different gear for Plant’s solo material, such as the booming “Turn It Up” and “Spoonful,” a Willie Dixon-penned blues number that they’ve upcycled, adding a sleek synthesizer part and a desert-psych vibe courtesy of Juldeh Camara’s one-stringed African violin, called a ritta.

Still, I’m not going to try to convince you that any of it was more thrilling than when Jimmy Page’s iconic riff from “Whole Lotta Love” exploded from the stage and coursed through the wonderfully warm High Desert air, instantly sending thousands of folks back in time, no doubt to some seminal time in each of their lives. That’s the transportive power of live music, and while it was most palpable at that moment, it was on display all weekend long.

— Reporter: bsalmon@bendbulletin.com