Rilo Kiley blazes a country-pop path

May 25, 2005|Globe Correspondent

When Rilo Kiley last came through town, in October, the band was riding the highs of a new album and a sold-out show at the Somerville Theatre. If anything, the band's stock has risen since then, with the outstanding ''More Adventurous" appearing on countless Best of 2004 lists, and larger shows such as Sunday night's at Avalon seem like the natural reward for a job well done.

Playing in front of a twinkling backdrop, Rilo Kiley divided its set into three distinct segments, with a lighter, countryish set bookended by driving indie pop. Lumping together more subdued songs such as the music-hall ''Ripchord," the airy ''More Adventurous," and ''The Absence of God" (which recalled '70s light rockers America), could have been disastrous for a band just going through the motions, but Rilo Kiley put as much fire into them as it did rockers ''Portions for Foxes" and ''Wires and Waves."

That focus is partly due to Jenny Lewis, a marvelously expressive singer who variously played guitar, bass, organ, and harmonica. But if frontman status comes less easily to bandmate Blake Sennett, who sang ''So Long" and ''Ripchord" tentatively but charmingly, his qualifications as an indie-rock guitar hero are becoming harder to deny. He had blazing solos at the end of ''Pull Me in Tighter," ''The Execution of All Things," and especially ''Does He Love You?" (a favorite of Elvis Costello), which built beautifully from a sweet lullaby to surging drama without being jarring. Moments such as those piled up one after the other, turning Rilo Kiley's second round of touring into a victory lap.

Nada Surf opened the show with a set of arty power pop that drew heavily from its last album, 2002's ''Let Go," while previewing three promising songs from its upcoming release. Although the first few songs suffered from a mix that made the bass distractingly prominent, the sound problems resolved themselves by the time the band reached the lovely ''Inside of Love."

Nada Surf was followed by a mercifully brief set by the Brunettes, whose performance was a train wreck, and they clearly knew it. Taking the stage without a sound check, the New Zealanders' aim of coming across as a folk collective crossed with 1960s bubblegum was undone by appearing amateurish and unprepared.