At the start of the film, "24 Hr Party People," a comedic mock-umentary about Britain’s post-punk scene of the 1980’s, record producer Tony Wilson (played with slicing wit by Steve Coogan) breaks the fourth wall to contemplate the future of pop music.  As manager of the influential band Joy Division, he exits the funeral of the group’s lead singer, Ian Curtis (who committed suicide), and announces to the audience: "This is where the second act begins."

Looking at the present pop music climate, one could make an identical prediction.  Since the indie revolution of 2000—directly related to the advent of the iPod and widespread downloadable music - how far does this new generation of retro bands advance?  So heavily dependent on the trailblazing efforts of mainstream failures almost an entire generation ago, will they have a second act?

Look no further than She Wants Revenge and their 2006 eponymous debut album.  They share obvious similarities with groups such as Bauhaus and Interpol, and are eerily reminiscent of Joy Division.  Their recipe: 1 part Goth synthesizer, 2 parts heavy bass-laden hooks, and 1 part monotone vocalist.  If an act is to have its professional equivalent of a bar mitzvah through iTunes, then relying on such epic influences is a good way to start.  However, just scanning the Internet for She Wants Revenge reviews, there is tanker truck of vitriol being spewed at them for their Interpol-ish ways.  It seems much of the music critic community is not so forgiving when it comes to the art of homage.  (Yet, no one seemed to cry bloody murder when Kurt Cobain shamelessly admitted to ripping off the Pixies.)

Joy Division and Interpol bring diversity to their tracks, bleeding two different songs together without collapsing underneath a sudden collision of styles.  More rolling in their demeanor, like a rush of methamphetamine being cut with a spoonful of Robitussin, the songs of She Wants Revenge end almost exactly where they begin.  This could be the start of something more expansive, or simply the limitations of a band full of hacks.  Either way, in concert on March 23 at State Theater, they presented their sound in excellent form.  For a bass-heavy band, they kept their sound surprisingly crisp and vibrant.  Adam 12, keyboardist for She Wants Revenge, was careful not to overpower vocalist Justin Warfield's deadpan performance, a dynamic that Interpol miserably failed to maintain at the same venue three years ago.

The theme of their album and their show revolves around the lamentation of a failed dance-floor relationship.  It’s the romantic yet tragic tale of boy meets girl, boy dances with girl, boy and girl do lines in the bathroom, boy's eyes wander toward other boys, girl's eyes wander toward better coke, boy leaves girl, boy pines over girl, girl pines over boy's coke.  It’s a classic.

If one is expecting an Ian Curtis look-alike behind the microphone, you won't find him when Warfield takes to the stage.  Appearing Dylan-esque in a bowler decorated with silver medals, Warfield's look is more reminiscent of 1960’s Haight Ashbury psychedelics than the Manchester of the late 70's, post-prog rather than post-punk.  Adam 12 (or Mr. 12 as his professional moniker might be), balances out Warfield’s “free love” look with a sinister, short-rimmed black derby and Eminem-style hooded sweatshirt with extra zippers.  Neither is shy around a camera.

Opening with "Red Flags and Long Nights", the song recalls the beat from The Fall's "The Knight, The Devil, and Death."  The lyrics were a perfect start for the set's themes of obsession and desperation:
"You can occupy my every sigh/you can rent a space inside my mind/at least until the price becomes too high."  Not quite the level of Yeats, but then again, Chris Martin isn't exactly serving up intellectual aftertastes with his prose either.  Peering out from underneath the wide brim of his hat, Warfield accompanied his vocals with hypnotic hand gestures.  The rhythmic salvo of the chorus became infectious.  Next in the line-up was the song “These Things,” followed by "Out of Control," which could easily find a warm home at The Castle on Monday night, while the Senator leers in his negligee off in some dark corner.

Even Ian Curtis strayed from his trademark deadpan performance for live performances, such as in the song "Digital" (their best work, in my opinion).  The same can be said with "Us," which found Warfield showcasing his vocal range while dueting with Adam 12's keyboard, proving that She Wants Revenge can outshine itself while breaking away from the Joy Division mold.

The eerie chanting of "Out of Control" pulsated live, the nightmare of the recorded track replaced by a dance anthem only hinted at by the lyrics.  The cynic in me resisted the impulse to let the beat to take over while my inner Kevin Bacon pushed me to the dance floor, while Mr. 12 banged mercilessly on his drum machine.  Even the indie hipsters of Central Ave. relinquished control, bobbing their heads and shuffling their Chuck Taylors.

There was no encore, which was a first for me but surprising since I expected them to be more self-indulgent.  They closed the show with their mainstream single, “Tear You Apart,” and were better for it.  It’s a mediocre song at best, a slave to formulaic songwriting.  To start off their live set with it would’ve put She Wants Revenge deep into a hole they might not have been able to dig out of.

I apologize for the constant name-checking of the bands of my youth.  And please do not think I protest the current flurry of bands who pay debts to Joy Division, Stone Roses, Psychedelic Furs, The The, etc., nor do I pine for the days of late nineties where boy bands roamed the land and Disney had a monopoly on Billboard.  Nonetheless, we are living in a Robert Redford "Candidate" moment where one has to ask: "Now what?"  When the novelty wears off, when the sweet, sexual smell of a second honeymoon fades, how can a retro band sustain creativity?  Interpol is showing its ingenuity with sophomore album tracks like "Evil," and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is expanding to folk and even gospel.  Yet, the Strokes stumble throughout 2006’s "Impressions of Earth," even though they daringly rip off Manilow's "Mandy" on the track "Razorblade," a feat I must applaud.

However, if a 30-something like me bemoans the derivative nature of the pop music industry all alone in the woods, did the kvetching occur at all?  Case in point, during the concert I conducted an exhausting scientific poll. (To be honest, I only talked to 2 comely 22-year-old females.)  The instant response to my query regarding the Joy Division/Bauhaus replicants on stage was: "Who is Joy Division?"  With that, the poll was over.  Dejected, I reinserted my earplugs and silently sipped my bottled water while pondering my very own second act.