Nada Surf rides a wave of driving indie pop

March 14, 2006|Marc Hirsh, Globe Correspondent

Ten years ago, Nada Surf was simply another one-hit wonder that breezed onto the airwaves just before the door slammed shut on the alt-rock boom of the early 1990s. But the song for which the group is best known, the gonzo teen survival guide ''Popular," was of only marginal interest to the sold-out crowd that showed up Thursday at the Paradise.

That's not to say that the song wasn't cheered when it popped up toward the end, but by that point it was abundantly clear that wasn't the reason the audience was sticking around. Over the course of a set that lasted more than two hours, Nada Surf drew heavily on 2002's ''Let Go" and last year's ''The Weight is a Gift," from the quasi-''Search and Destroy" chords of the opening ''Hi-Speed Soul" to ''Your Legs Grow," which saw singer Matthew Caws alone onstage with an electric guitar.

Caws was a fine frontman for this post-''O.C." moment. Wearing a decidedly unglamorous striped polo shirt, he moved around the stage in endearingly stiff and awkward movements and sang in an angelic voice with a slight lisp. But what could have tipped over into insufferable wimpiness if left unchecked was transformed into driving indie pop by bassist Daniel Lorca and drummer Ira Elliot.

Both ''The Way You Wear Your Head" and ''Imaginary Friends" were pure power pop, while songs like ''Paper Boats" reached effectively dramatic climaxes as Caws, Lorca, and Elliot simply rode out the chords. Members of the opening acts filled in on a few songs, but the greatest show of camaraderie came during the twist-worthy ''Blankest Year," when everyone on the bill flooded the stage and danced.

Second-billed Rogue Wave occasionally fell into the trap of relying more on its sound -- a heavily reverbed swell that placed pinging lead guitar lines atop jangly arpeggios -- than on its material. As a result, ''Medicine Ball" and ''Sewn Up" didn't seem to go anywhere, but the band hit its mark more than enough times to make up for it.

Of the three acts, only opener Inara George has yet to appear on an ''O.C." compilation. Sadly, she never seemed to grab more than half of the chatty crowd, which was a shame, because her intimate and idiosyncratic material would have worked better with her audience's undivided attention.