After the sobering reality of the bag searches, patdowns, and metal detectors that greeted the crowds streaming into the Orpheum to see Travis and Remy Zero last Friday night, the show itself provided a much-needed musical escape. Hailing originally from Atlanta, Remy Zero steamrolled through a loud, blistering set of tunes spotlighting their new release, The Golden Hum (Elektra). Their sound was solid if unoriginal, ranging from the chaotic chords of Bends-era Radiohead to the simpler jangle of R.E.M.-style pop. Despite claiming to be hung over from the night before and barely able to stand, bald vocalist Cinjun Tate (Alyssa Milano’s ex) did his best to imitate Michael Stipe’s jerking mannerisms. He did hit all his high notes, like a Broadway showman getting the job done. But for all Remy Zero’s technical proficiency, they didn’t often connect with the audience.

Scotland’s Travis, on the other hand, had no such problems, since the audience clearly adored them. Like Bono, charismatic vocalist Fran Healy is notorious for rambling tales and proselytizing on stage. His heartfelt plea for togetherness and peace before an urgent " Side " was earnest and moving; other brief stories referring to the Celtics, a marriage proposal at a recent concert, and how " Driftwood " can be about a friend who " pisses away potential " were charming and engaging.

The same can be said for the band itself. Months of touring has made their live show better and more developed. The chiming, intricate layers of songs like " Pipe Dreams " and " The Humpty Dumpty Love Song " shone with nuance and beauty. " As You Are " had a loping country vibe; the melodic " Follow the Light " was a semi-acoustic treat.

Although these quieter songs have typecast Travis as cuddly rock stars suitable for bringing home to mum (only Healy can make a squat pink mohawk haircut cute), the band also packed a substantial punch. " Flashing Blue Light " screamed and roared with pent-up aggression and frustration. " Why Does It Always Rain on Me? " turned into a joyous pub song to which you could hoist a few pints. And " Turn, " which Healy dedicated to the audience, crackled with energy as the band ran around the stage amid twisted, burning solos. Not to mention their token cover, a lazily glammy " All the Young Dudes " (with bassist Dougie Payne on vocals) whose breezy optimism lingered well after the concert’s end.