A Yeah Yeah Yeahs show is a thing of storybook myth: gangs of Karen O lookalikes jumping around in slashed-up dresses, hipster boys foaming at the mouth when Miss O douses herself in beer and rampant, rhythmless dancing. It’s a live experience best left unspoiled.

Between the cold-blooded crowd and a disappointingly restrained O, the audience at the YYYs Philly pitstop could’ve easily mistaken the show for a suicide lesson with Beth Gibbons. The only action on our side of the stage was a stray, “I love you Karen O!” and some vintage sneakers shuffling in time to the broken-glass beat. A Queer Eye For The Straight Guy transplant bounced alongside a confused blonde as Nick Zinner savagely strangled his guitar on “Miles Away.” Sadly, fanboy’s misstepping was the only show worth the $14 admission fee.

It’s not like the thrift-store pinup in designer trash wear wasn’t trying—whenever a cool kid dared to cheer, she’d regress into the screech/squeal/scream affectations and wiggly hissy fits she’s both abhorred and adored for. But O’s enthusiasm was as transparent as the vodka the disinterested hipsters were swilling at the bar. Maybe it was a lack of pre-show boozing or a recent fight with head Liar/boyfriend Angus Andrew, but the stutter in her stage prowl made O look more like a lost little girl than a scum-rock sex symbol.

“This is for all you people in Philly tonight for being patient,” she yelled before launching into a raucous version of “Art Star.” Patient? The band went on at 9 p.m. sharp: not exactly a rock-star move. Hell, half the bar pounded pints in the other room at the set’s start because they thought the openers were still on.

OK, so Karen The Great was clearly nervous. And without her usual Siouxsie Sioux antics to hide behind, she was pushed to perform rather than pose. What emerged, for a change, was Karen O The Singer rather than Karen O The Performer. Her vocals alternated between anger and inviting introspection, while Zinner punctuated every utterance with rusty punk/metal riffs: the real catalyst for the YYYs’ heat. Well-coiffed in a black sweater and orange-collared combo and as pencil-thin as pictures suggest, Zinner boiled the blood beneath “Rich” and guided “Pin” and “Date With The Night” with power chords.

On the contrary, “Maps” and “Modern Romance” burned slower than an Urban Outfitters “Jesus Is My Homeboy” candle, as did a handful of Philadelphia premieres. Each new song took on a tension/release dynamic that allowed for promising song development. If this is any indication of what’s to come, the hype will have plenty to sweat about next time the Yeah Yeah Yeahs storm Philadelphia. And the kids, well, they can practice their indifferent head-nodding for the next time they cram a club just to look cool.