Eruptions of Violent Behavior

Between record deals last year, the Violent Femmes played one of their typically well-received, career-spanning concerts at the Coach House. Although recently signed to Interscope Records, the Wisconsin-bred trio hasn’t recorded anything new domestically since 1994’s experimental “New Times.”

So without a new album to support, why bother to return to the venue for two shows this week?

Spontaneity.

“The fun in playing live is watching something unfold that is unique to each particular show,” lead singer-guitarist Gordon Gano said backstage between shows Thursday night.

‘We don’t use a set list anymore, so musically we improvise a lot. But actually it’s the fans who usually provide more of the unexpected than we do, like they did tonight during ‘Blister in the Sun.’ ”

Gano was referring to how the audience resuscitated that vintage song when it appeared to die prematurely. As the band reached its final verse (“Let me go on, like I blister in the sun / Let me go on, big hands, I know you’re the one,”), bassist Brian Ritchie held his microphone in front of an apparently startled fan. After he and the crowd barely sang one line of the tune, it petered out.

The smirking Gano, no doubt the class wise-guy during his school days, admonished the crowd: “That’s got to be the first time ever that that song was left dangling. I guess you guys are just too busy eating and drinking to sing along, huh?”

Wrong. The audience seemed to rally at the challenge, repeating the verse four times with the same panache the Femmes displayed for most of their appealing, 90-minute performance.

Other born-in-the-minute creations, Gano later said, included encores of “Silent Night,” which he sang in German, and an ad-lib laced version of “Holly Jolly Christmas.”

Since the early 1980s, Femmes fans--who on this night ranged from screaming teenagers to a man wearing an Allman Brothers T-shirt--have embraced their heroes’ defiant attitude, sardonic humor and catchy brand of post-punk rock.

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When you’re a little disillusioned or wary, it’s not hard to identify with the diminutive Gano, whose constant state of distress is simultaneously unsettling and reassuring.

His whine and anxiety-filled presence bring a unique character and humanity to his desperate tales of sexual frustration and isolation, hypocrisy and rage, even madness, murder and suicide.

In fact, the night’s most memorable musical moment came during “Country Death Song,” a disturbing, chilling portrait of a girl’s murder by her father. The narrative builds to a terrifying climax as the mentally deranged man, sickened after pushing his youngest girl down a “black, bottomless pit,” plans to take his own life. As the mood darkens, drummer Guy Hoffman lightly brushes his skins, and Gano cries out the killer’s final words: “Now I’m going out to the barn . . . to hang myself in shame!”

It was a striking touch of raw emotion from a band often perceived as coolly detached, at times even vacuous. But “Country Death Song,” along with the moving “Good Feeling,” revealed an underutilized depth of feeling.

Undoubtedly, though, it was the not-so-deep but rousing sing-along anthems (“Black Girls,” “American Music,” “Gone Daddy Gone,” “Kiss Off” and especially “Add It Up”) that revved up the appreciative crowd. Despite playing them a zillion times, Gano and his mates unleashed these and other up-tempo gems with freshness, enthusiasm and conviction.

The Femmes’ ensemble work is clean, crisp and dexterous. The most skilled musician remains Brian Ritchie, one of the few who can play both rumbling and lead parts on both acoustic and electric bass. He unveiled his versatility as well with his sure-handed use of the didgeridoo, xylophone and one-string bass (who knew there was such a thing?).

Still, the veteran band needs to shelve inferior material that detracts from an otherwise solid concert repertoire. Among the clunkers are the juvenile antics of “Dance M. F. Dance” and the cliche-filled “Gimme the Car.” But worst of all is the unliberated “36-24-36,” which includes the lame lyrics: “36-24-36 . . . let’s go get some chicks.” C’mon, guys.

The band’s new material gets my vote as replacements. According to Gano, they’ve already written at least a CD’s worth of songs.

The Femmes are one of the longest running alternative rock bands around. But the time’s come to experience what the future holds for a group whose acoustic-driven punk sound was once so influential.