You can't fault Grant Lee Phillips for wanting more. His band, Grant Lee Buffalo, have eked out one of those careers that inspires the devotion of critics, fellow musicians, and a slim core of die-hard fans, but barely exists as a blip on the general population's radar. Jubilee is album number four for the band, make-or-break time. Retaining the surrealist-Americana vibe and lyric grace of past efforts while embracing unapologetic rock crunch and soaring radio-strength hooks, the disc marks a move to blazing technicolor from an outfit known for dealing in sepia tone. The time has come not only to reap record sales but to let the world in on a burning secret: this cinematically-minded band are ready for their close-up.

GLB have always been terrific live, a hyper-passionate outfit capable of turning even the most sterile room into an incense-enshrouded, rust-bearded revival tent. But first, there's the opening act. Seattle's Harvey Danger did display impressive poise considering they barely appear old enough to shave. For the moment, however, their music gives off all the vibrations of radio-friendly '90s pop without delivering anything catchy or memorable, the bouncy single "Flagpole Sitta" notwithstanding. They're Weezeresque at best, Nerf Herder-like at worst. No longer relegated to "slow and dreamy" status, GLB roared out of the gates with the gripping rave-up "APB," writhing under strobelights in gentlemanly dark suits. Now a four-piece (filled out by multi-instrumentalist Phil Parlapiano, bassist/guitarist Bill Bonk, and perennial stickman Joey Peters), Phillips and co. rolled out a string of Jubilee tracks with a newly strutting, search-and-destroy confidence. "Change Your Tune", "Fine How'd Ya Do", and a hip-grinding "Seconds" swept along in a White Album- esque maelstrom courtesy of Phillips' new love affair with his Les Paul/Marshall combo and off-kilter falsetto hooks. Already a fan favorite, the future hit "Testimony" shone with a gospel-infused intensity absent from the snappy album version.

For the middle portion of the set Phillips favored his familiar 12-string acousting and dipped into the classics bag. "Bethlehem Steel" got a deluxe, sensual treatment, tensing up and releasing to the swells of Parlapiano's majestic keyboards and Phillips' fervent refrains. Parlapiano also seized the limelight on an acoustic rendition of GLB's monstrous once-hit "Lone Star Song", replacing Phillips' original harmonica blast with a spiffy mandolin solo. (Too bad the tophatted Parlapiano's contributions were all-but-inaudible the rest of the evening.) Reverent readings of "Mockingbirds" and "Honey Don't Think" and a wrenching "Stars n'Stripes" (a trifecta of gorgeous, substantial songwriting unmatched in current rock) found Phillips slipping into his arresting hickory-seasoned canyon-like baritenor, challenging Bonk to nail those high harmonies in the manner of former GLB bassist Paul Kimble (he did).

A dive back into the new material finished off the set. Current single "Truly, Truly" already qualifies as an epic, exploding into a B-3-driven chorus of longing the group could sing all night. "Jubilee"'s rollicking la-la-las and the blinding swamp rock of "My, My, My" sent the group off.

Having flung every bit of his fireplug frame into every note the entire evening, one would've expected Phillips to collapse from exhaustion, but his infectious, sweat-soaked enthusiasm wouldn't falter during the encores. Extended versions of favorites "Mighty Joe Moon", "Jupiter and Teardrop", "Fuzzy" (almost hymnlike at this point), and "Two & Two" were invested with fresh conviction.

A barefoot, bedraggled Phillips and band returned for one last tune, a pull-out-all-the-stops version of "Dixie Drug Store". Rarely played on tours past, the New Orleans voodoo tale from the group's Fuzzy LP has enjoyed a resurgence thus far in '98 as a boogie piano-driven gumbo meltdown. After wrapping himself in the mic cord, Phillips leapt onto Peters' bass drum to belt one last chorus through the drum mics to the amusement of the adoring crowd.

It's hard to recall another band that combines inspired songwriting, daring arrangements, carnivalesque ambience and raw passion like Grant Lee Buffalo. Even if they do spend the rest of their career as a whispery underground phenomenon known to an obsessive few, expect a long reign. Talents such as Phillips don't just go away.

--Lane Hewitt