Nightmarish lullabies and fierce energy

There are some concerts where you can't believe an audience showed up - any audience.

Then there are gigs where a cool clutch of bands - buzz-worthy and Pitchfork-approved - play, and nary a crowd pops its head in. On a warm and breezy Saturday night in October yet.

Only the throwing of wads of cash would've made the punk-pop evening at the North Star Bar - featuring England's Brakesbrakesbrakes and the Glaswegian twin bill of the Twilight Sad and We Were Promised Jetpacks - better.

The Twilight Sad have been around a half-dozen years, and it showed with a corrosive roar that managed to sound surprisingly lived-in and warm. Often compared to fellow Scots Mogwai, they also summon up the sounds of post-punk avatars Public Image Ltd. in their 1979 Metal Box glory.

The density of Twilight Sad's fluid, dublike bass lines; the guitars' impenetrable whine, which seemed to build slowly then crash; the careering rhythms - all vintage Public Image Ltd. Epics like "Made to Disappear" were downright muscular. Even so, there was gravity and beautiful melody to be found in Twilight Sad's nightmarish lullabies.

Then there's sullen singer-lyricist James Graham. His deep voice, slightly accented by a Scotch burr, touched upon feelings of disgust and revenge throughout. But when he wailed through "I Became a Prostitute," it was as though an angel were crying. A big, bald-headed angel who, when not busy head-wagging like Linda Blair, pounded the drums with a fierce energy.

The second act, Brakesbrakesbrakes (a.k.a. Brakes), didn't - put on the brakes, that is. While Tom White played a forceful, fuzz-toned rhythm guitar, Eamon Hamilton crooned with a handsome yet brusque voice. Tracks like "Hey Hey" were thrilling, danceable pop-punk of the highest order. When Brakes did chill for a moment, on the soft and roomy "Don't Take Me to Space (Man)," the rest didn't last, as the song's bridge was but a gateway to a ruckus.

The openers, We Were Promised Jetpacks, with vocalist-guitarist Adam Thompson, started off strong with clicking guitars and glum melodies, reminiscent of an early, poppier Cure. But after a few tunes, Jetpacks' promise waned, and they began to sound more repetitious than righteous.