Show night: New Pornographers/Lavender Diamond

My regular publisher seems to be napping, so I'm posting this here until it appears there.

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The current New Pornographers tour offers a rare opportunity to witness the Canadian guitar-pop group as most fans would like to see them – in its full eight-piece lineup, with often-scarce members Neko Case and Dan Bejar on board. Monday night's show in San Francisco was the fifth in a sortie that will loop through the U.S. and Canada over the next 48 days. I spent the evening just beyond the monitors at stage right of the Warfield Theatre, with a close-up view of a band acting like they were on vacation together rather than slaving it out night after night.

Out skipped Becky Stark, the singer and apparent auteur of Lavender Diamond, to open the show shortly before 9:00. (I missed what must have been a brief set by Fancey, the band fronted by New Porns guitarist Todd Fancey.) Her band, working with a piano, acoustic guitar and a couple of drums, was trancelike and buoyant, as Stark sang of open hearts and springtime in a clear, striking soprano. In between her airy open-throttle peaks and strangely subversive asides, Stark cultivated an impossibly ingenuous persona, apparently obsessed with smiles and sunshine. Truth is, there's no shortage of despair weighing on her gossamer wings; it just takes awhile to make itself plain in the songs. ("It's a paradox, people," she warned at one point.) The idea, I think, may still be obvious enough: If you can't find what you want in this world -- truth, beauty, etc. -- you make up a world that you like better, and live in it. Come to think of it, that's what we all do anyway. I'm on her side.

Recent criticism has suggested that the New Porns' Challengers album is somehow too restrained. Indeed, it trades big, satisfying drum codas for subtler textures, and its production leaves more room for voices and quieter instruments. Although drummer Kurt Dahle is credited with producing the basic track "beds" upon which the songs were built in the studio, some listeners seem to think Challengers could use another big basher moment like the one Dahle provided on the last album's "The Bleeding Heart Show." Dahle isn't around for the first leg of the tour – we were treated to replacement drummer Jon Wurster (Superchunk) instead – but with a fog machine blasting, a big blinking sign identifying the band, and Mason Williams' "Classical Gas" as entrance music (!), the New Porns were off and running with "All The Things That Go To Make Heaven & Earth," clearly favoring vivid momentum over subtlety.

If the band tried to make more space for detail on their new record, they seemed willing to sacrifice nuance for bluster during most of the show. Frontman Carl Newman isn't really all that powerful of a singer; his more timorous moments were occasionally overwhelmed by the forceful rhythm section. (Not so for Neko Case; she can compete for volume with any drummer, no matter how muscular his rhythms may be.) There were quiet moments too; I thought of Vivaldi's mandolin concerto as I heard the plucked octaves during "Challengers," although I admit thinking of Cheap Trick more often during the set. There was plenty of magic in little moments: the round-like section spilling into the terminal key change in "Mass Romantic," the roar following the Roxie shout-out in "Twin Cinema," Blaine Thurier's harmonica in "Sing Me Spanish Techno." But the prettiness and delicacy would soon be blown away in the end; when Wurster dropped the final bomb on "The Bleeding Heart Show," it was clear which side won out.

Case played the guest-star role, but second songwriter Dan Bejar was the wild card. Every fifteen minutes or so he appeared, as if he'd just risen from a nap. He'd sing a song, retreat to his glockenspiel and wander off for awhile, then return with a fresh Corona for another number. (Seems like a dream job.) "The Spirit Of Giving" was quite good, thanks especially to Kathryn Calder's accordion solo; "Myriad Harbour" was great, thanks to the in-band dialogue written into the lyrics; and "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras" killed, with Case and Bejar riding Wurster's nuclear drumming.

For a band that may not get to rehearse all that much – its members reside in various cities – the New Porns sure seemed ready to roll when they arrived. Five shows may be just enough for them to find themselves; a long, transformative road surely lies ahead of them in the next seven weeks. The band members seemed content to take talky breaks for their own amusement, even briefly essaying a Journey song as they chitchatted with audience members. Increasingly, bands are following the virtual model, living in scattered places, e-mailing demos around, and convening only when necessary; it works for the New Porns. And when you treat your work like a vacation with old friends, your most intense moments turn into your most fun ones too.