POLYPHONIC SPREE

IN pastel choir robes and shoulder-length, center-parted hair, Dallas’ Polyphonic Spree presented their strange power-pop with “Godspell” passion at Irving Plaza Wednesday.

The 25-member ensemble – a mini-symphony featuring horns, percussion and strings, plus a female chorus – played optimistic music that wasn’t religious but full of hope.

In their sometimes catchy, often long-winded, theatrical songs, they sang with a dopey optimism that, on the subway, would wear like an invitation to get mugged. The feel-good atmosphere was downright creepy as their mostly college-age fans blew tiny soap bubbles at the stage, smiled incessantly and jiggled mini-tambourines to the music.

The scene was made stranger still as an unsmiling Paul Simon gazed down from the VIP section in the balcony. At any moment, you expected a waitress to come and ask you what flavor Kool-Aid you prefer.

The mastermind behind this gimmicky act is Tim DeLaughter, the band’s music director, lead singer and cheerleader. He’s the reason this very strange concept band works.

Even though he isn’t a great singer, he has the kind of passion that makes veins pop on his forehead and bulge on his neck when he belts out a tune. Yet with the suddenness of a gear shift, his tone turns gentle and sweet.

That trick was most effective in the lengthy “One Man Show” that comes on like gangbusters and decelerates into the pretty chorus repetitions, when DeLaughter coos, “It’s a beautiful day.”

The musicianship is generally good, but, as with a high school marching band, any small misstep is masked by the sheer number of players.

Still, there was no hiding Mark Pirro, the ensemble’s overbearing bass boy. His bottom thump was cranked to the point that he destroyed most of the subtle accents in the music, from the harp and flute to the violin. Only the brass and percussion were able to stand up to his assault.

But the packed house seemed to enjoy the electric edge he lent the epic songs. Their feet found his ear-injuring groove irresistible, and they danced so hard, the hardwood floor bounced as if they were at a punk-pop summit rather than a polyphonic spree.