Mikel Jollet, lead singer of The Airborne Toxic Event, is drenched in sweat, his shirt and hair stuck to him as he clings desperately to the microphone. Bassist Noah Harmon appears to be in a trance, his head tipped back revealing a glistening face. His sodden shirt is half unbuttoned, while behind him Daren Taylor beats the drums with a bare and gleaming chest on display.

The L.A. band’s feverish appearance has less to do with their vigorous performance than with the fact that the air conditioning at the Roseland Ballroom is malfunctioning, and they’re sharing the packed space with 3000 New Yorkers. But nobody seems to mind too much; in fact, the steamy conditions only enhance their agonized, self-questioning lyrics delivered in the form of energetic, post-punk indie rock. Gasping for breath, Jollet’s face forms a tortured howl as he screams:

“the walls spin and you’re paper thin from the haze of the smoke and the mescaline / the sweat of your brow under unmade sheets in your ear with the noise from the darkened streets where you ran far and wide/you screamed / you cried / you thought suicide was an alibi”

“Wishing Well” is the opening track to the band’s self-titled debut, released a month ago on Majordomo Records. The album is laden with heartbreak and regret in songs like “Happiness Is Overrated” and “Does This Mean You’re Moving On?”. If Jollet comes across as a tortured wordsmith, he has good reason; in one week in 2006, the writer was diagnosed with auto-immune disease, learned his mother had cancer, and experienced a breakup. Promptly, the novel he had been writing turned into song lines, and the result is a record of highly literate lyrics channeled through Jollet’s dynamic baritone that diminishes to a sigh only to swell into an anguished wail.

Violinist Anna Bulbrook leads the way on the first single “Sometime Around Midnight.” Though the intro sounds like a full string section on the record, in fact it’s all Bulbrook joined tonight by Harmon, who plays his electric bass with a bow. After several dramatic minutes of strings, Jollet chimes in, in a shaky whisper describing a girl he sees across the room in a bar. When the drums kick in, we realize she’s no stranger, but a gone and clearly not forgotten lover. The song intensifies as they drift towards each other and talk, and by the time she leaves with someone else, Jollet is screaming the words in pain.

The strings return to the forefront again as the song ends, reducing to a lament, leaving Jollet, and the rest of us, emotionally drained, and soaking wet. Then he kicks his microphone stand over and reminds that they are, after all, a rock band.

The Airborne Toxic Event are currently on tour with the Fratellis. Find out if they’re coming to your hometown.

–Julia Clarke