^{Click here for the full Say Anything slideshow (photo by Jerome Eno)}

Not even a (minor) set malfunction could put a damper on the energy coursing through the House of Blues last night. Mid-set, one corner of the gigantic, glowing, psychedelic screen behind the band slipped free of its tether and made a break for the stage floor. “Looks like we’re having a Spinal Tap moment,” vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala remarked idly, as the stage crew hustled to pull the errant screen back into place.

^{Photo by Nellie Sweet}

A swarm of KMFDM fans in shin-swallowing boots, leather bondage kilts, and fishnets stream by as my friend Andy and I loiter in the House of Blues lobby, killing time until Andy’s concert buddies show up. When they do, the girls come bearing gossip: they were at KMFDM's afterparty in NYC last night, and they report that the band mentioned being nervous about playing Boston.

It’s unsettling news, but not too surprising. After all, we’re standing on the grave of Axis, the site of a disastrous 2003 KMFDM show. That night six years ago, the band members were all sick as dogs, and even though they put on a more-than-decent show, the Axis audience was legendarily awful. KMFDM hasn’t played Boston proper since (they did swing by the Middle East for their 20th anniversary tour) and skipped Massachusetts completely on their Hau Ruck tour.

Tonight's crowd is the expected mix of grizzled old-school rivetheads and folks like me who first jumped on KMFDM’s industrial wave of destruction as high schoolers in the mid-'90s. Less expected is the horde of dewy-faced young things. I suspect more than a few of them were lured here by the openers, the Aussie electro-industrial duo Angelspit.

MORE PHOTOS:  Dropkick Murphys | House of Blue, Boston, MA | March 12, 2009

To judge by their merchandising, their popularity, and the position they occupy in Boston's civic identity, the Dropkicks are in essence the city's fifth major professional sports team -- with the added bonus that they always win. They are greeted with a hero's welcome even before they present themselves publicly. At the House of Blues, services commence with a traditional Irish hymn (piped in) and a kilted bagpipe player (live) and then, with room to spare and Celtic church-window tapestries unfurled behind them, they arrive onstage blaring a three-chord fanfare. The crowd tight enough in front for a rolling, stadium-like pogo. Crowd surfers helpfully chuted off to the sides and delivered back into the throng -- not summarily kicked to the curb. Good form. (Video after the jump.)