PHOTOS BY NESTOR DIAZ

"We should play for them, probably no one would notice," one fan commented at the Le Loup show last night (Dec. 10). This isn't quite true, of course -- the chaos that erupted onstage when the D.C.-bred septet played their hometown was a controlled one -- but it does help explain what make Le Loup's shows so exciting, so breathlessly talked about among the District's cultural cognoscente. The audience at the Black Cat was taken along for the ride, and essentially became part of the band in a small way, as choruses swelled and demanded to be sung… no shouted, along to.

Head conspirator Sam Simkoff spurted like a vegan Craig Finn, and whatever folded arms might have been in the college indie kid crowd totally disappeared. "Look to the West" turned the semi-packed club in to a nursery school sing-along before "Breathing Rapture," with Simkoff's electric banjo front and center, called to mind a radioactive hoedown. The evening's highlight, though, was "Canto XXXIV," which exploded from the stage with such unadulterated joy it was hard not to think of a certain Canadian band Le Loup keeps drawing comparisons to (hint: they're buddies with Springsteen -- see Spin's December issue). But on a wintry Monday night, the band proved they inhabit a universe of their own -- with apocalyptic lyrics, voices coming from everywhere, and seemingly as many instruments as could fit on stage. There was no word, as of press time, on who played the kitchen sink.

Vocalist/guitarist May Tabol / Photo by Nestor Diaz

Mandolin player Jim Thomson / Photo by Nestor Diaz

Simkoff, leading his 'General Assembly' at the Black Cat / Photo by Nestor Diaz

Keyboardist Nicole Keenan / Photo by Nestor Diaz

Simkoff and Tobol square off on stage / Photo by Nestor Diaz