So, how about last night at the Showbox? Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah-yeah yeah yeah!

But first, YACHT. Jona Bechtolt rocking the stage like a crazy person. In a vintage nautical sweater and through a mess of floppy curls, his wide-eyed speak-singing over beats was enough to drive several members of the early audience into fits of tribal dancing. Anyone who saw the Blow last February as the Blow, would instantly recognize the similarity to Khaela Maricich’s performance style. Jona is in constant dancing motion, chattering, explaining, faux-conducting the beats from his marked-up iBook, expounding on the Bad Brains-inspired power of positive thinking (”It’s for realz!”) and generally having an incredible time on stage.

He pauses briefly to catch his breath and answer a few questions from the audience in the middle of the set. We learn, among other things, that he’s 26 but still gets carded at R-rated movies, believes in ghosts and aliens (sometimes), thinks that people who don’t think that there’s global warming are foolish (”didn’t they see An Inconvenient Truth?”) has maybe quit the Blow, and that his weirdest sexual experience involved the walk-in freezer at his parents’ convenience store. This last part depends on our definition of “weird” and if we’re squares or not. With the Q&A out of the way, it’s back to music and magic. He climbs down onto the floor and an impromptu dance circle forms around him, back up for another song and a “first ever” stage dive, and, after a brief disappearance he’s back for a finale that closes his set with a silly string explosion. His magic is real.

Here’s how it starts. The crowd thickens, arriving to fill the floor and crowd the bars in anticipation of LCD Soundsystem. From the moment the band takes the stage, James Murphy leads us all through an exhilarating, sweat-soaked, aerobic adventure. Leading with “Us v. Them”, the whole floor goes into full-on bounce mode with the front of the house instantly transforming into an entirely new seething, undulating organism made up of swaying, and shoving bodies, held together by perspiration and determination to have an awesome time of it.

Although others have mentioned this elsewhere, it bears repeating. James Murphy knows how to structure a setlist: from the initial attack, working the crowd into a frenzy by moving into a slick, speedier version of “Daft Punk Is Playing at My House” through a raucous, fist-pumping “North American Scum” and eventually, with a breather here and there, to the downright amazing “All My Friends.” By this point, everyone up front is drenched and joyfully delirious as the band goes from Sound of Silver opener “Get Innocuous!” to classic “Tribulations”. Somewhere in here James stops momentarily to look out for the ladies near the edge of the stage while providing an important life lesson and concert safety instruction : “if you’re dancing and it’s only dudes within a three foot radius, you’re doing something wrong.”

Just as they brilliantly piled up the energy, the band expertly steps it down to rational levels with the call-and-response “Watch the Tapes” before a stupidly fun version of “Yeah!” slams the show into a much-needed break. A few minutes later, they walk us through a cooldown routine of sorts. Launching back with “Someone Great”, they close with aloft lighter-worthy “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down”. It surges in parts, but by the end, everyone’s swaying in the dark under swirling flecks of disco ball stars, blissed out and not quite ready to stagger out into the chilly evening.

This is the second time I saw the band this week, yet if someone suggested an impromptu trip to Canada to follow the tour, I’d be really tempted to tag along.