Wolf Parade/Robbers On High Street/The King of France

60 minutes can feel as light and fleeting as a feather on a windy day, or be as agonizing and painful as a time share presentation. These two facts are true of live music as well, and both were proven this past Friday evening at Schubas in Chicago.

Riding a wave of positive word-of-mouth nearly as high as their Canadian brethren The Arcade Fire did last year, Wolf Parade took to Schubas' tiny stage around midnight. Loosened by alcohol (what else is there to do for hours on end when stuck to the confines of a bar?), band member Dan Boeckner (guitar, vocals) wouldn't promise a great show, but that's just what was delivered.

Expectations were high in the packed, sold-out venue, as the accolades had been stacked to the ceiling for the band's full-length, Isaac Brock (Modest Mouse)- produced Sub Pop debut, Apologies to the Queen Mary (one of the very best albums of the year). Not to mention the band's plum supporting spot on The Arcade Fire's recent North American tour.

Delivering one fevered, highly charged plum after another, Wolf Parade exceeded those expectations. Though described as being of low-energy live by some, this night the band were electric and the songs were played with such intensity that it was impossible to not be swept up in the moment. Hadji Bakara played most of the show with his keyboard raised above his head, but decided at one point to bend over and play low to the ground. This left his back exposed and Dante DeCaro (former guitarist for Hot Hot Heat and now a member of Wolf Parade) took the opportunity to bang a tambourine against him repeatedly. This sort of manic energy was taken to the hilt throughout. Despite this reckless spirit the band played with an expertise that was enthralling to witness.

Songs blurred together in a haze of swirling keyboards, sharp guitar bursts, vocal exultations, and crashing cymbals, and, before anyone knew it, the band were saying their goodbyes and walking offstage.

A rousing applause brought them back, and Boeckner assured the crowd that they only knew how to play two more songs and that one title thrown out at them by an audience member was not among them.

After a bit of fiddling, the elegiac dirge "Dinner Bells," featuring the strong, distinct vocals of keyboardist Spencer Krug, was performed with a loopy, askew sense of timing. Once again the members of Wolf Parade managed to dance on the edge and left the crowd overjoyed.

Robbers On High Street, however, never came near that edge. One could surmise from their performance that they have never even heard of the word "edge," as they delivered one exceptionally average song after another to an increasingly antagonistic crowd.

Lacking any semblance of personality (no surprise as their album seems to have been erased from my memory banks even though I know I've heard it), the Robbers were positively "Rooney-esque." Created ostensibly in a factory that manufactures indie-rock-popsters solely for placement on soundtracks to TV's The OC and Volkswagen commercials. There was not one moment where the band made any sort of emotional connection with the audience. In fact, their brand of faux-soul was so jive that the only fun had during their set was in mocking them. Yes this band are capable musicians, but without charm Robbers On High Street are just your ordinary, average white band.

As for show openers The King of France, they get by on their charm. Singer Steve Salad, the perpetual guy next door, winked, joked and cajoled the audience through the band's brief set, while the rest of the band hammered out a steady stream of rockers and ballads.

In the battle between charm and talent, charm will win out more often than talent in the rock world, while no amount of talent can save an artist without it.