New York City Bowery Ballroom

Somewhere in the middle of the show, a female fan just can't take it anymore. "Gruff, you're so fucking sexxxxyyy!!" she screams, successfully catching lead singer Gruff Rhys' attention. He looks at her blankly, without so much as a smile.

Gruff has other fans to contend with at the moment, like the pack of rowdy, flag-waving Irishmen who are wearing his band's patience thin. The lads are good for a laugh at first, but when they repeatedly fill in each pause with hoots and hollers and turn "SFA" into a non-stop soccer chant, guitarist Huw Bunford's warning to "shut up" turns into "shut the fuck up" a few songs later.

There are many instances over the course of the group's 90-minute set that are deserving of reverence and rapt attention. 'Mwng''s Welsh tracks make it impossible to sing along, so concert goers must enjoy the music in relative quiet. But more importantly, the album's many tender-sounding songs translate beautifully to the stage, thanks to a pair of live trumpeters (wearing Hawaiian shirts, no less).

Gruff helps the local crowd by prefacing each of 'Mwng''s songs with a short explanation of what it's about. New Yorkers learn that 'Y Gwyneb Iau' is not a nice thing to say, "so be careful," Gruff warns. (Expect it to replace "scumbag" sometime soon).

Half of the gig consists of material from 'Mwng', with previous albums like 'Radiator' and 'Guerrilla' providing the rest of the tracks. The Super Furries display tremendous versatility and creativity throughout, especially in terms of the moods they create with their music. Tonight, songs shift from bursts of energy to introspective focus. It's a trip to two worlds at once: one demands that fans be still and listen, the other will have none of that, insisting only on unbridled fun.