However, the sound of the thing is just the half of it. Vocalist Mark Foster's near-falsetto is so passionate and optimistic that you could be forgiven for expecting the CD to come with a Happy Meal attached. The opener, "Helena Beat" starts with a meaty back beat and a child's giggle while later Foster chirps, "I took a sip of something poison but I'll hold on tight."

That's as dour as he gets. "Waste" is a big dripping slab of pop where Foster is determined to put up with a lover's shit just to be with her, while on "Houdini," though he announces that he's guarding his emotions he still manages to sound chipper about it. The insanely catchy "Don't Stop ( Color On the Walls ) " and the twisty "Call It What You Want" have the kind of big hooks and bigger sound that grab audiences by the thousands. However, with all that joy bouncing off the grooves "Pumped Up Kicks" is either a sick joke or ( worse ) no joke at all. Whatever it is, it's disturbing, catchy and downright strange. As an AM single about a boy stealing his absent father's gun and heading off to school with a bouncy couplet in his head ( "You better run, better run, out run my gun..." ) , the architecture of the song ( a bouncing bass line, Foster's atonal AutoTuned voice, a cushion of keyboards, multi-tracked whistling reminiscent of nursery rhymes and the blunt hooks in the chorus ) betrays the creepiness of the lyrics. It's a bit unnerving and makes me feel guilty for liking it so much.

However, with Torches going for it, FTP's sold-out show at The Riviera was an entirely different kind of affair. Although the band's chemistry onstage was tight, engaged and full of fury, it was obvious that these guys had been touring maybe too long. Foster—wearing tight black jeans and dancing as frantically as any straight white boy could be expected— sounded great but had to fight a migraine-inducing light show that was over designed, over executed, and overbearing. If the non-stop flashing lights didn't bore a hole through your skull then the sound of the band live certainly did. Onstage the bass and percussion were mixed hard and upfront diminishing the melodies and hooks and making Torches' songs almost monotonous. Only "Call It What You Want" seemed to stick out. The finale, an extended rave-up jam of "Pumped Up Kicks" may have left the crowd on a high note, but when I realized that the set was a mere hour with no encore the evening seemed both bombastic and meager. Maybe in a year FTP can learn some new songs and chill on the hardware.

At the extreme from FTP's show was a rare intimate evening with tech god Thomas Dolby. Where Dolby may have gotten a bum rap as a wind-up Tin Man thanks to his quirky wave/dance/avant smash "She Blinded Me With Science" ( 1983 ) and his extensive work as a producer/engineer/session musician, the reality is that his recordings are warm, intimate, lush and incredibly human. Going even further is his penchant for elegant retro-futurism, as his gadgets, props and album jackets seem to come straight out of cinema—Fritz Lang's Metropolis ( 1927 ) , the Buck Rogers serials ( 1939 ) and the highly stylized Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow ( 2003 ) .

His brand-new A Map of the Floating City ( www.thomasdolby.com ) fits comfortably into this oeuvre but is much more than merely Dolby's first new album in 20 years. Realizing that the recording industry has shifted dramatically in that time Dolby decided to create a computer game with music, going way beyond a concept album or a story arc. The show at Martyr's, which turned out to be the perfect venue, was Dolby solo, singing songs from the game, navigating through the characters, exploring the reconfigured geography of a vastly altered world and integrating historical figures ( e.g., Adolf Hitler, Thomas Edison, Herbert Hoover and Nikola Tesla ) . However, far from being a convention for computer nerds, Dolby's game—ahem, "adventure"—is packed with shady heroes, bizarre technology, blimps, light houses, moths, floating cities, techno piracy, kidnapped damsels, hidden clues and conspiracies, with a convoluted courtroom drama for good measure.

Then there's the music that—typical of Dolby—is rich, textured and could best be described as "gourmet pop/soul." "Love Is A Pistol" ( a near-torch song inspired by a dream that Dolby had where Billie Holiday seduced him ) was just him, a piano, his voice, and enough sensual karma to choke a horse. "Evil Twin Brother," with a cameo by Regina Spektor, came wrapped in layers of warm synthesizers, swirling strings and a throbbing bass line as it recounted a nocturnal escapade worthy of prime Al Stewart. The new single, "Spice Train"—with its bouncing techno beat, hand claps and trilling vocals—may have seemed more conventional but had a blast of Dolby's unmistakable humor. As if all that weren't enough, the jacket design by artist Paul Sizer is such an elegant work of art that it's equally a joy to view and hold.

Before he left the stage Dolby mentioned that he would be back with a full band for a bigger tour ( his solo tour hit only seven cities ) and that's something to anticipate.

Send inquiries for Bent Nights to McBryde299@hotmail.com .