Set List (Live) [feat. Glen Hansard]

The Frames might be superhotshit in Ireland, but their careful, blowsy blend of cock-rock swagger and trad-folk delicacy has long slipped past the ears of most Americans, despite loads of rousing recommendations from Brian Eno and million-star reviews from almost every Irish periodical ever. After nearly fourteen years of touring (and four full-length LPs), the band has opted to release a 13-track live album, Set List, as proof of their insane stamina and hyper-dedicated following: If nothing else, the record is a hard and fast testament to the goofy fervor The Frames are capable of inducing in eager European crowds.

The tragic flaw of the live record is that it almost always offers an entirely compromised version of the genuine experience-- a watery, dull, one-dimensional representation of something that should ideally be transcendent. The Frames are stellar songsmiths, and Set List certainly proves that they're equally capable live performers, but by far the most interesting aspect of this record is the foot-stomping fervor of their perpetually singing-along crowd. Anyone nauseated by the prophetical leanings of Dashboard Confessional shows (check small clumps of skinny kids mouthing every lyric in earnest, whimpering along with their hands clenched into euphoric fists), or freaked out by the beer-soaked "Bruce!" bellows that send quivers through Giants Stadium whenever Springsteen plays, might be equally shocked by the enthusiasm of The Frames' adoring fans, who seem to be perpetually trembling with excitement. Somehow, The Frames have managed to capture the sweaty, breathless communion of the live show in some oddly convincing ways.

If you can get past gaping over the hollers of the audience, Set List just might be compelling enough to encourage new listeners to check out The Frames' proper discography. Recorded over four nights at Vicar Street in Dublin, Set List runs through the band's standards (see opener "Revelate" and the scream-along fest of "Star Star") and offers a single new track (seriously, how are these kids still singing along?), the quietly confessional, heavily falsettoed "The Blood". Frontman Glen Hansard is always playful, leading his bandmates into bits of Marley's "Redemption Song" and Cash's "Ring of Fire", and offering plenty of charming between-song banter.

The Frames have long imbued their playing with a certain elasticity, each song bending and shifting like a pulled rubberband, and it gets easier and easier to understand how fans can become so enraptured by the tug: Colm Mac Con Iomaire's fiddle-playing is breathless, and Joseph Doyle's backing vocals are expert, lifting Hansard's vocals and guitars onto a perfect pedestal. Alternately earnest and teasing, tracks like "Stars Are Underground" and "Santa Maria" prove that The Frames are actually far more than the sum of their recorded parts. Set List is not their first live record (see 2002's flaccid Breadcrumb Trail), but it is easily their most convincing plea for your ticket-buying attention.