There’s something intimidating about seeing the Shins play live for the first time. You’ve heard the name a million times and you’re already familiar with their witty, orchestral-pop sound. You know they keep a low profile—they don’t even make an appearance in the video for current single “So Says I.” Yet knowing these things somehow doesn’t prepare you to see the band perform. And so the first-time Shins concert attendee stumbles into an underground railroad of sorts; devotees who know all the lyrics to all the songs, who have seen the onstage antics before and know the punch lines to every joke. (This is especially true for shows in the Pacific Northwest.)

All Night Radio, a duo featuring former Beachwood Sparks members Dave Scher and Jimi Hey, provided the perfect backdrop as the Roseland filled with what could’ve been attendees at an Ironic T-Shirt convention. ANR’s haunting, alt-country-on-acid soundscape defied the number of people onstage, as Scher often worked several instruments at once: guitar, synthesizer and iBook. Following the group’s 45-minute wall-of-sound set were Seattle heroes the Magic Magicians, currently on tour promoting their self-titled LP. The bare-bones duo—John Atkins (764-HERO) on vocals and guitar, Joe Plummer (Black Heart Procession) on the drum kit—is minimalist about everything but its sound: stripped-down lyrics, bass-heavy chord progressions and enough balls-to-the-wall reckless speed to pull it off.

But it was the opening sound-check chords from Shins singer/guitarist James Mercer that elicited a dull roar and a few whistles of anticipation from the crowd. After a short delay, Mercer gave a quick nod to his bandmates, signifying their simultaneous “Whoop!” that introduced “Kissing The Lipless,” the first song off second album Chutes Too Narrow. The gradual build that’s released with Mercer’s controlled scream was an optimistic intro for the set to come, with drummer Jesse Sandoval’s wrist rolls winding the energy tighter and tighter.

But watching the Shins lead the audience by the hand through both “classics” and new sing-a-longs, it’s hard to decide if you’re watching a cohesive band or simply four musicians diligently pursuing the same goal while sharing a stage. All are so immersed in their instruments that, at times, they look up and seem surprised to be in the company of one another. The songs are short and formulaic, without improvisation or live frills, and driven at a brisker tempo than necessary. It’s like glimpsing a band practice where the group doesn’t have all the kinks ironed out yet.

Maybe that’s the pressure of being discovered by the mainstream, then having to report back to your old fans—like accidentally making friends with one of the popular kids in junior high, then trying to justify it to your Dungeons & Dragons buddies. Their aching nonchalance and more-intelligent-than-thou lyrics (“After all these implements/And texts designed by intellects/We’re vexed to find evidently there’s/Still so much that hides”) sung atop pedal-steel guitars or three-part harmonies were bound to tip off someone to their hidden coolness eventually. It was just a matter of time.

The night’s best moments: keyboardist Marty Crandall leading the onstage drinking antics while challenging “The Man” to come shut down the theater. Crowd favorite “Saint Simon” prompting hundreds of audience members to sing aloud the airy “tra-la-la” bridge. Unfortunately for the Portland regulars, it was the newer fans to whom the Shins catered. The bulk of the 14-song set was Chutes material, inspiring dedicated followers to call out song requests that were never answered.

But the evening’s highlight came in the form of “Young Pilgrims,” at which point the spacious venue seemed to shrink to living-room size for the intimate number. Neither audience banter nor band chug-a-longs affected the Roseland the way that simple, reflective tune did—perhaps a lesson in disguise for the Shins themselves.