It’s a sold-out Friday night at the Troubadour, and an antsy crowd is gathering around the stage. After the obligatory smoke machine and strobe light entrance, five normal-looking guys take the stage. Except for the sartorial addition of an ironic dork-chic fisherman’s hat on the head of the drummer, the Maccabees look completely devoid of any indie rock pretension.

The lead singer, in fact, has a fully buttoned up shirt tucked, dad-style, into his pants, and one of the guitarists plays the entire set with the hood from his hoodie covering his head. The band looks something like your older brother’s awkward friends.

The Maccabees, five guys from South London, drew quite an impressive crowd. In terms of music, the band was spot on, churning out stellar, dance-worthy Brit rock with a bit of a spacey vibe. The singer and lead guitarists’ vocal harmonies were outstanding, and the band had its set down to a science.

The band kept a cool distance, simply playing for a good portion of the set, and not getting involved with the crowd until near the very end. When the crowd and the band did merge, however, it was to a massively synergistic effect: the crowd came alive, screaming a chorus of “Woo hoo’s!” while the band played.

All in all, a magnificent showing by the Maccabees.