Sea-Ray: Not a massive, sub-oceanic laser cannon, as far as we can tell. A beautiful Kingsbury Manx montage. Or else some of them are midgets. Born on the fiery peak of Mt. Vulcan, Neko Case towers over most mortal men. We include this photo as proof that our writers did not simply "freak out and shoot a bunch of pictures of Neko".

It's a rare indie rocker these days who can claim that he or she has not succumbed to the sugar-sweet, complex, multi-layered, ultra-produced, smartly lyricked gush of brilliance that is the New Pornographers' Mass Romantic.

This album was clearly a labor of love, recorded by five of Vancouver's most talented sons and one daughter (and what a daughter). Driven by the perfectionist hand of Carl Newman, this album is a head-bobbing tour de force from beginning to end, despite the fact that it is dominated by one of the finest single pop songs it has ever been our pleasure to hear, "Letter From An Occupant". One sometimes wonders what kind of show a group like this will put on; considering the time that apparently went into making this album, would the live versions be but pale shadows, bereft of studio gloss and piquant audio effects? Could Neko Case possibly sound that good live? Would a band composed of members of other bands really cohere on stage? Would the opening bands be any good? Would Muriel discover the terrible secret of her grandmother's past before it was too late, or would the brain tumor drive her deeper into madness and into the arms of Tex Brannigan?

The Bowery Ballroom is a familiar and welcome sight to anyone who frequents concerts in New York; Brett's last jaunt here had been to see Ivy, and the venue's roominess, (comparatively) reasonably priced drinks and friendly crowd atmosphere were all pleasant breaks from the often-stressful routine of life in New York. We arrived just in time to catch the last few songs from Sea-Ray -- the third time we've caught the tail end of their set. They have improved with each viewing, both in their musical forays and their show's complexity (this time, they had a Pink Floyd-style movie screen behind them). The band plays solid, introspective music, often supported by a cello. The cello is, of course, played by an astonishingly beautiful young woman (as is, we believe, mandated by the International Cellists In Rock Bands Treaty). As they left the stage, we promised ourselves once again that we would definitely catch their entire set next time (and hey, Sea-Ray, if you read this, why not send us a CD?

Next up was the Kingsbury Manx, a band that is decidedly not out to rock your socks off. All we knew about these guys when they mounted the stage was that our illustrious editor liked them, so we hoped we wouldn't have to slag them in this review (He can sometimes have a heavy hand with the spiked lash, our editor. Especially when he's drinking). Fortunately, the band was really good, so no obfuscation was necessary. The pairing of the Manx with the New Pornographers was not necessarily the most ideal; the audience was looking forward to the raucous power-pop of the Pornographers, and took a while to get into the decidedly mellower vibe of the Manx. Still, a group this effective can win over almost any audience. The band breathed their way through susurrant syllables and tasteful guitar lines, conjuring early-Floyd psychedelia in their half-spoken tones, but without leaving behind their deceptively simple song structures. The band sports three singers in its two-guitar/keys/bass/drums lineup, and each quietly contributed to what was effectively the one "voice" of the band. The vocal harmonies provided a nice counterpoint to the Pornographers' three singers: the one, spare voice of the first versus the brash, strong, individual pipes of the latter. The Kingsbury Manx's set was quite enjoyable, and made us think strongly about looking up some of their recorded work.

For all of those music fans who've been asked "Why travel across town at eleven at night to see 'em live when you have the record?", the answer to this question was eagerly supplied by the New Pornographers. We, of course, had been listening to Mass Romantic day and night ever since we got it a few months ago, and like everyone else, we had marveled at its seamless production and brilliantly protean songwriting. It was the collection of talent that would be arrayed on stage that drew us and whoever else could fit into the Bowery. Despite not having played many shows together, the Canadian supergroup appeared relaxed and in full control. We were saddened to observe that Pornographer Dan Bejar was not in attendance, although his replacement was very able indeed. An amplifier problem delayed the start of the music, sparking another form of entertainment altogether. Singer Carl Newman and siren Neko Case easily fell into what was to be a very funny, evening-long run of stage banter. A couple of audience members were disgruntled with this state of affairs, and screamed for the band to "Play some music!" every five seconds (we assume they had previously attended only Fugazi and Ramones shows). For most of us, though, it was like watching Sonny and Cher.

Eventually, the crunchy guitar line of "My Slow Descent into Alcoholism" kicked off the musical segment of their show. Even though we adore the album version of this song, its live incarnation hopped around like a pogo stick live and left the recording in the dust. Next, the already rocking "Mystery Hours" and "Mary Martin Show" (sans saxophone) became punk rock before our eyes. Drummer John Dahle counted off "One, two, okay -- you know what to do." It was obvious that they did.

For those who aren't familiar with the Pornographers' sound, it is built around soaring pop vocals that pullulate from left of heaven and are underscored by a bevy of catchy keyboards, guitars that hook around every downbeat, a Rickenbacker bass a la Chris Squire, and the flamboyant, Keith Moon-esque drumming of the aforementioned John Dahle. That said, the Pornographers are truly distinguished by their innate sense of when to introduce bridges and outros that are nothing short of amazing -- melodies around which other bands would write entire. While the group has only one album under their collective belt, song selection really wasn't a problem, and each song was better than the last. "The Body Says No", "Jackie" (sung by John Dahle), "Fake Headlines" and the untouchable harmony of "Centre For Holy Wars" were happily rolled out with the foreknowledge that each would be a show-stopper, while others, like "To Wild Homes", held the audience rapt with a new, slowed-down live tempo. At long last, the Pornographers played the song that started it all -- "Letter From an Occupant" -- in which the increasingly alluring Neko snake-danced between verses, letting loose her devastating pipes. Neko even had her own little section of acolytes in the crowd, screaming "We love you Neko!" We're not going to lie, it was a religious experience. The band even sneaked in a couple of new songs, which we'll look forward to hearing on their second album.

The group waited 'til the encore to unleash "Mass Romantic", whipping up a tornado with the song's three-part harmony and giving release to the crowd's building anticipation. That's one of the oft-unrecognized bonuses of a live show: when the band plays the song you (and everyone else) have been waiting to hear, the feeling is electric. The last song of the encore was a spot-on (but thankfully revved up) cover of "Cruel To Be Kind" -- better than the original by a long shot.

This band is growing into something far bigger than it was ever intended to be. The fact that they took one of the best albums of the year and improved upon it in this performance attests to their capabilities. Expect to hear a lot more from them.

Article and photos by Daniel Arizona and Brett McCallon.