Team Robespierre at the Middle East Upstairs, 6/23

The night did start out rather promising, with local heroes Big Digits kicking up quite a storm. Armed with an enthusiastic VJ, the dynamic duo blasted their shouted, Jamaica Plain-approved hip-hop to the cavalcade of dancing scensters that would certainly make Joe Mande drool to no extent. However, all was not quite right when The Chinese Stars took the stage. The Providence quartet's sludgy punk may have been an improvement over their recorded sound, but the band seemed nonplused to be performing and their sound often crossed over the thin line between endearing and irritating. Still, the dwindling crowd of silly-dressed folks danced as if controlled by teenaged marionette apprentices, which gave the set and air of the evening a gimmicky and pre-meditated feeling that only irony can bring to a concert.

A little less than half an hour to midnight and the grand show took the floor - literally. Though Team Robespierre uses the same performance tactics that have made artists like Dan Deacon, Matt & Kim, and Monotonix noteworthy, the night's execution of playing on the floor, caustically tossing one's body around, and breaking the 4th wall seemed to be just that - a tactic. Singer/keyboardist Ty may have reached out to the audience, but he didn't seem the least bit interested in interacting with them.

It may have been an off night, but what often makes a performance so memorable is its specificity to the moment, an irrevocable act that cannot be replicated. And Tuesday's show could have taken place at anywhere, been composed of any number of cool people dressed in clownish outfits and dancing out of forced-enjoyment most likely caused by expectations of a grandiose performance, and the band could have repeated the same uninterested stage chatter.

Though they may have been on the floor with the ticket holders, Team Robespierre might as well have been onstage; their show was merely a performance, and from opening night to closing night of the tour there may not be any difference. The tunes may be slightly catchy, the members slightly energetic, and their frontman half crazed-half drunk. But, it takes real charisma, charm, and passion to make a memorable show, and a mix of alcohol and who-knows-what shouldn't be mistaken as such.

Emblazoned on the bottom of Ty's cutoff jeans was the blue circular symbol for legendary L.A. punks The Germs. Though Ty obviously has an affinity for the brashness that Germs' frontman Darby Crash exuded in his short lifetime, Ty himself wasn't able to capture the raw energy that made Crash famous. Crash may have been strung out on drugs during his performance, but deathly terrible or fantastically over the top, you knew you were in for some kind of adventure. Tuesday night, Ty seemed to mistake alcohol for a tool of inspiration, and it was a fruitless chase.

"We're not Monotonix," Ty hastily spat at band-mate Mike after the bassist tossed Ty's shirt to some corner of the stage. Ty was absolutely correct in comparing Team Robespierre to the Israeli trio who've garnered acclaimed for their cataclysmic live sets. Any other band trying to reach out to the audience often makes you believe in the music and creates for a truly impressive and memorable show; Team Robespierre just seemed to distract people from the music and came off as another Brooklyn band with a lot of positive press but not much substance.