Last Wednesday at the Great Scott, Lee Bains III showed up from Alabama to put on a fierce energy-driven southern punk show and had Northeast friends Alpenglow and Forts/Gainesville open.

On TV at Great Scott: Ocean’s 12, Jeepers Creepers 2

Forts/Gainesville took the stage first, starting with a calm and droning plucked guitar and some calm lyrics. I remember thinking that was exactly what I was hoping they’d stick to, but the set evolved. The folk got a little rockier, and at one point a sample pad came out and started adding a light electronic layer to everything. Eventually, the party-folk-rockers outweighed the pensiveness and set the tone for anything.

I was able to confirm later my suspicion that this is a band whose M.O. is to take it easy. It’s a side project of members of local band Tallahassee, where everything begins and ends with getting up and playing their varied songs. I wouldn’t say they don’t have ambition: there’s clearly a lot of work put into their songs and none of the members lack talent—this was the bassist’s first show with the group and he nailed it—but they don’t beat you over the head with who they are. I get the impression that if you left the show not remembering anything about them other than that you enjoyed yourself they’d chalk that up as a win.

The band were relaxed, very comfortable, and just the nicest people ever. I spoke with singer/guitarist Brian Barthelmes afterward and he was every bit as excited and jovial as onstage. After a few minutes of trying to figure out what his angle was, I decided I’m probably too cynical to be talking with such a good dude.

It’s always hard to make a comparison when it’s such low-hanging fruit. If you’re familiar with Fleet Foxes, I can’t see you not making connection to Alpenglow. Not knowing what Robin Pecknold looks like (even though I know he’s on a hiatus from music to go back to college or something), I couldn’t help looking up Alpenglow online to make sure he wasn’t a member.

He’s not.

But the voice of Alpenglow lead singer Peter Coccoma is uncannily similar. The attack is very slow, so you might miss the first consonant, but his pipes build to a loud and accurate high-tenor/falsetto.

In terms of the music, the five piece didn’t stray from the folk (so far) of the night but, sticking with the Fleet Foxes comparison, it was a bit rockier. Not to say there weren’t eerie and unsettling harmonies and droned acoustic guitar, but there were some strong classic rock riffs. They weren’t afraid to get alternative/indie rockish and there was also a prog-element to the music, as they shifted tempo and style mid-song fairly often, always keeping you on your toes but never losing momentum.

My one, tiny criticism: after a bunch of songs that were extremely memorable, the last one really wasn’t. I may be missing something, like that it’s a big hit or fan favorite, but it didn’t quite stick the landing for a set that, it should be noted, I enjoyed the shit out of.  Despite that last song of which I can remember nothing, they hooked me in all the prior ones and I can’t wait to check these guys out again.

Lee Bains III & The Glory Fires played vicious, lightning fast, southern-rock-informed punk rock like their lives depended on it. That’s a good starting place.

The crowd lessened after the previous two bands, but there is no way you would know it watching Lee & Co. They were playing for an audience of 10,000 as far I could tell by watching them.

The first several songs were pretty indistinguishable. People were moving constantly, you’d only know that it was a different song because of a slight break and then something would start in a different key. Lee was wailing and jumping on and off of the kick drum, and later on right into the audience, shredding while face to face with those that stayed.

Now a quick (not really) side-note about jumping off the drums: I feel like I need to be fair here because I recently gave a band a tiny bit of flak for doing it a couple times at the end of an arena-rock-sounding show. I don’t feel like Lee Bains was jumping up on the drums to be a badass—maybe the first or second time, but it almost seemed like a thing he did when he wasn’t sure what to do. Like putting your hand in your pocket or scratching the back of your head, like an impulse. He did it about a dozen times during the show, but, and I don’t know how much you can read into this type of thing, it seemed like he was just doing it to keep his portion of the three ring circus going while the Glory Fires were shredding on their respective instruments, not trying to distract from it even if it did end up happening.

When they stopped playing so Lee could explain what the next song was about, something he started doing for most of the songs toward the end, it actually added a layer of depth to what was previously just noisy, dancy fun. The song subjects ranged from wanting his girlfriend to come back to Alabama to addressing the state’s laws that encourage racial profiling. These songs were the ones that brought the true musicians out as they were more melodic, plus you could actually hear the words. The hooks were still gut-punching punk (with a southern bend), but the songs took more time to get to where they needed to go and they were all the better for it.