When I last saw Okkervil River, I didn’t get it. Singer Will Sheff sang too loudly, the drummer seemed to think every beat needed maximum emphasis, and even though the tunes seemed decent enough, I came away thinking they were too earnest to ever do much worth hearing. Oh, how wrong I was.

First came Black Sheep Boy, then the Black Sheep Boy Appendix, then the President’s Dead EP and now, The Stage Names. Each contains some amazing music (Black Sheep Boy made my top CDs of the year list in 2005, and I would expect The Stage Names to do the same this December) and made me a believer and a fan. I was worried about the live show, however. Had the maturity exhibited on record found itself to the stage? Yes and no.

At the band’s show Saturday in Iowa City, Sheff still sang like a guy with a poltergeist straining against his abdomen to break free, and drummer Travis Nelsen still abused his drums. But the rest of the band seems to have caught up, and the songs are worthy of such bombastic performance. This is what I expect Arcade Fire would be like if they all loosened up a bit, and the excitement and energy level is perhaps what I feel I missed out on by not being an Asbury Park clubgoer in the early 1970s. Admittedly, I haven’t been to a lot of shows this year. But I can safely say this was among the best, and would have been no matter the frequency of my outings.

The band locked in early after a few quieter, more contemplative songs, with Sheff saying, “Let’s play some dance tunes” before the band lept into what seemed planned as the high-energy part of the set. Thing is, it never left that plateau, despite the changing dynamics as the evening progressed. The set was mostly built on songs from the last two LPs, and it was transcendent.

If you haven’t had the chance to experience this band yet, check out this or this or this.

Damien Jurado opened the show, and while his trio played well, it was so quiet and the crowd was so annoying loud that it was hard to hear much of anything. That’s too bad, because it was clear there were fans in the audience, and Jurado’s music would easily connect with the typical Okkervil River fan.

After my disastrous first experience seeing Crowded House at the execrable House of Blues in Chicago (a pox on Dan Ackroyd’s “House”), I am happy to report that I finally had the chance to see and hear the band, and the result was fantastic. It’s clear I’m a fan, being willing to follow-up a four-hour drive to see the band with a subsequent five-hour drive to try again, so this is obviously to be taken with a grain of salt. But, the band is as good as it has ever been (my only previous evidence being live recordings) and can still put on one of the better shows in the business.

They began with a song I had assumed they would have stricken from the set list, “Mean to Me,” with its lyric, “Now her parents are divorced, and her friend’s committed suicide…” given the 2005 suicide of original drummer Paul Hester. That was one of the few surprises of the night, as they essentially turned in a set made up of hits, fan favorites and most of the best from the band’s reunion disc, Time on Earth. I could quibble about the set list, particularly with the fact that they skipped two of the best new songs — “She Called Up” (the current single, no less) and “Even a Child” in favor of esoteric tracks like “Transit Lounge” — and only played one song from sophomore album Temple of Low Men (“When You Come”), but all in all it was a solid, well-played set.

New drummer Matt Sharrod was dazzling, ably filling Hester’s chair when it came to playing. Hester was always the band jester, however, so while Neil Finn and bassist Nick Seymour still were able to joke around and draw laughs from the crowd, things were a bit more serious than they’ve been in the past.

Friends and I were conversing before the show about the lack of harmony singing from current bands, saying that many a decent song would be elevated with this extra effort. As if seeking to prove the point, Crowded House made full use of backing harmonies; at times all five musicians on stage (the four Crowdies and Neil’s son, Liam, who opened and then backed the band on acoustic guitar) sang, creating lush, rich harmonies that made these songs soar.

All in all, it was worth the travel and fatigue. Anyone with a chance to catch the band on this reunion tour would be wise to do so. They don’t make ‘em like this much any more.

A friend asked in advance of last night’s show by Band of Horses if I would describe the band’s sound. He hadn’t heard them and wanted to know if he should go. Resorting to one of those tired rock critic constructions, I likened them to the Shins covering My Morning Jacket. Take Jim James’ haunting, reverb-drenched vocals and add them to songs tastefully played in a low-key Shins sort of way, and you have Band of Horses.

Or so I thought. That may be the case with a few songs from the band’s debut disc, Everything All at Once, but it certainly isn’t the way to describe the band’s live sound, nor its new material. Having expanded to a powerful six piece, the band offered an aural assault that was true wall of sound. It reminded me of shoegazer bands of the 1990s, with massed guitars used to drive sweet simple melodies. Then again, listening again to that debut disc, there is a definite Southern rock vibe to things, and the band fully indulges that in the live setting.

The new songs were a good indication that the band has grown and will avoid the sophomore slump with Cease To Begin, scheduled for release Oct. 9 from Sub Pop. While there is plenty of stylistic and dynamic variation on the debut, songs like show-opener — and the first song on the forthcoming disc — “Is There a Ghost,” was a standout for the fact that it seemed to more fully tap the talents of the band members. The tracks from Everything All at Once began to feel a bit samey over the course of the show, likely due to their abbreviated nature (none seemed to go their full recorded length) and singer Ben Bridwell’s voice, which was the most static part of the sound even while it was the most engaging.

The band closed with a cover of the Jagger/Richards obscurity “Act Together,” a song found on Ron Wood’s 1974 solo album I’ve Got My Album To Do. It was the most rolicking, lively thing in the set, and the one time the entire band seemed to be having a blast. The song had a swagger missing from the rest of the band’s work, and certainly proved that such material is within its grasp.