First off: Hec Edmundson Pavilion (aka Bank Of America Arena) is a totally weird place to hold a concert. Upon my arrival, at approximately 7:10, my pal and I bee-lined it for the concession. Two words: No Beer.

I actually can’t remember the last time I went to a show and didn’t have a single drop of alcohol during it (maybe when I was 18 and still living in Spokane). Is that some weird rule at colleges? They don’t serve alcohol? I didn’t even see it lit up on the menus. That just struck me as totally odd. Is it the same at fooball and basketball games?

After being confronted with that fact, we made our way to the main floor of the arena. By the time we found a place to stand at roughly 7:15 the Gossip arrived on-stage. Wait. It’s 7:15. Don’t our tickets say the show starts at 7:30? Are the Gossip their own roadies? Why are they onstage? After a couple of jokes from Beth Ditto about her parents being proud she finally made it to college, the band started their attack.

The Gossip gave it their all. Ditto screamed and wailed, she tried to cajole us into her vortex of shuddering punk blues. But with the audience still filtering in and no bodies to fill the back of the pavilion with its concrete, echoing walls, it was to no avail. This crowd was not moved. I felt so bad for the band. Beth turned towards the Billie and Brace, and they held a concert of their own. In between songs she threw some small talk out to the crowd, but with a bunch of bored sober teens staring them back,the Gossip had no chance.

By 7:45 the set was over. At this point, two girls ran up and planted themselves in front of me (there was plenty of room, the pavilion was still filling up), ready to start dancing to Ditto and Co. As The Gossip exited the stage one girl turned to the other and said, “What the fuck?!? Their set ends 10 minutes after the show started?” Devastated, they went off on a search for beer. Good luck with that, I thought.

At least we knew LCD Soundsystem would start on time! The band, sans lead singer James Murphy, came on stage and the drummer started the beat. Gradually, as if this was band practice on an episode of Fame, the rest of the band joined in the groove one by one. Murphy shuffled on stage and started into “Daft Punk…” The crowd, by now twice as large as during the Gossip, bobbed their heads. A few folks raised their hands and clapped, but it was going to take more effort than this.

Then the giant mirror ball lit up. Stars lit up the interior and the energy level increased tenfold. LCD went through their set with guest appearances by various members of Arcade Fire throughout. I haven’t heard the new LCD album, Sound Of Silver, but their performance made up for my lack of knowledge by being, pretty much perfect. Songs I hadn’t heard before like “All My Friends” and “North American Scum” convinced me that their new work is essential to anyone hoping to understand how the Disco Punks are dealing with their New-No-Wave success a few years on from their heyday.

Their final song, “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,” was a tone-perfect paen to the city and its hipster crowd that can turn its back so quickly on the growing success of its scene. Perfectly smart and totally impressive.

One minor gripe, though. I wish the band would set itself up differently. They lose so much energy by having the keyboard player face forward in the middle of the stage. It boggles my mind to think they haven’t changed this set-up before. If the keyboard player stood sideways, facing Murphy at the side, with the guitarist closer to James and his drums (which should become the center), you could see her body move more and the enrgy transmitted to the audience would be more apparent. It would frame the band differently, but the energy level would be a lot higher.

I saw the Arcade Fire this summer at Sasquatch, and their show was amazing, so I thought I knew what to expect. I was surprised at how much sharper and clearly edited the band and its visuals were. They were even more effective and moving than they were at the Gorge.

The band seemed to be struggling with proximity and feedback on the small-ish stage, but I take it that’s just going to happen when you have an army of musicians and an array of so many instruments crowding the platform.

By now the Pavilion was nearly at capacity, and the amount of bodies had a great effect on acoustics. You could hear every instrument clearly. In fact, the band sounded much better now that you could really here the brass section in the back. Every song sounded fuller, more precise, without losing its live edge.

All the favorites were played—“Black Mirror,” “No Cars Go,” and “Keep The Car Running” drove the crowd into sing-along frenzy. By the time the pipe organ started on “Intervention” the band had the crowd wrapped in their hands. There was no begging to stand and dance, only polite “thank you”s for the reception the crowd was giving them. When the time came for encores, the crowd gleefully sang along to the rousing, anthemic “Wake Up.” I missed the few slower numbers they played this summer (my favorite on the album is the amazing “My Body Is A Cage”), but with the weird concert locale and lackluster crowd early on, the band knew they needed to cut deep, with absolute precision to lull the crowd out of its early stupor.

Eventually I was impressed with the Pavilion’s sound and atmosphere, but I’m still puzzling over why the show was booked there in the first place.