Every band has been there before. You're at the tail end of a long tour, and it's that middle of the week lull that happens in most cities. The room is a quarter full, and those people that are there are a bit TOO excited and have been, to put it kindly, overserved. These are the challenges facing Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Gauntlet Hair on Wednesday night at the Crocodile.

Portland's Unknown Mortal Orchestra started off their set with no announcement, no fanfare, and with a long, drawnout squall of feedback that led into a scratchy-throated version of "Little Blu House". On their self-titled record, "Little Blu House" is dreamy and delicate, gentle in all the right places; the story of a man searching for shelter from the wolves and some sense of respite. Live, it howled and yelped, less like a softly suggested "May I come in?" and more like the desperate plea of a man with nowhere else to turn frantically pulling on a door handle. Singer Ruban Nielson's delivery was almost completely disaffected, deliberately staring down the neck of the Fender Mustang that sat nearly at his collarbone rather than the audience.