Fans filing into the Zebulon on Tuesday night saw a stage featuring a collection of different guitars and amps, each rigged somewhere along the spectrum of fuzzed-out distortion and echoey reverb, all behind three parallel mics. The setup was telling of Sword II’s abnormal dynamics as a band: no frontman, no assigned instruments and no musical labels. 

The band had last played in Los Angeles just four months ago, opening for Pittsburgh shoegazers feeble little horse at the Lodge Room in November. Its set, however, has changed from an attempt to replicate past electronic-leaning production to an authentic showcase of its analog sound.

The Atlanta trio has had a busy few months since that show, dropping their sophomore LP “Electric Hour” and embarking on a bicoastal headlining United States tour. The album saw more instrumental experimentation and narrative-focused songwriting, brought to life during their set through eclectic pedalboards and instrumentation, including a 12-string.

Before they took the stage, though, came Tex Patrello for a rather unorthodox opening set, resembling more of a musical theater performance than a traditional concert. She showcased her vocal and acting talents with a backdrop of recorded synths, covering an impressive amount of sonic ground, from orchestral electronic beats to textured walls of noise. 

The multi-faceted artist came out dressed in white and told the crowd she was “getting married tonight,” portraying the character from her debut album, “Minotaur.” Her act closed with Travis Arnold, one of Sword II’s guitarists, proposing to her in a wolf mask. 

If Ethel Cain is southern gothic, Tex Patrello is cyber gothic; Shakespearean horror packaged for the digitally literate theaterphile. 

Though the musical stylings of the two artists are extremely different, Patrello’s visceral, dramatic storytelling laid the groundwork for Sword II material on “Electric Hour.” Tracks “Passionate Nun” and “Disconnection” tell surreal stories about a scandalous academic affair and being lost without cell service, respectively, though the lyrics remain incoherent enough to let listeners wonder about the songs’ actual meanings. 

The band sounds much heavier and more dynamic live. There were moments, such as during “First Rule of the Bug,” that the band transformed into a proper shoegaze act, warranting a lively mosh pit in the intimate room. Even so, the record’s trademark dream pop hooks and chorus-laced guitars were not left out, and the crowd moshed to those as well. 

The audience’s energy was only fueled when Certain Zuko, the band’s other guitarist, told attendees that their dancing gave her a physical “release” after sitting in a cramped tour van for hours every day. 

The band’s performance also granted them an emotional release from the worldly pressures that surrounded the making of “Electric Hour.”

As members of the Stop Cop City movement, which opposed the building of a police training center just outside of Atlanta, Sword II had to fight through friends being raided by the FBI, their instruments electrocuting them in a flooded basement and receiving an eviction notice from their landlord to complete the record.

The political realities encountered while recording seeped onstage as well, with bassist Mari Gonzalez giving a mid-set speech denouncing United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Several merch items and zines were also being sold to raise money on the anti-ICE defendants’ behalf. 

Regardless, the mood remained overwhelmingly positive and energetic, especially when the band launched into “Halogen,” the second single off its latest project. Arnold began the first verse, crooning “If you wanted / To catch this feeling / Then let it go.” Gonzalez then joined him for the chorus, which was yelled back to them by fans in the front row. 

The trio shares vocal duties, though all three were rarely behind the mic at the same time. Arnold’s deeper inflection contrasted with Gonzalez’s high-pitched melodies and Zuko’s loud refrains, giving listeners an array of different vocal stylings and combinations throughout the show. 

The record’s performances translated seamlessly to a live setting, as the crowd could connect with the band’s raw energy without having to sift through their previous electronically filtered sound. The new lyrics’ themes of intimacy and connection took center stage alongside more accessible production.

Gonzalez left the audience with a note emphasizing the importance of love before closing with “Under the Scar.” The song’s finale featured additional chaos, complete with aggressive power chords and punk d-beats, prompting more fans to throw each other around in the pit than before. 

But no matter how energetic the moshing got, fans abided by the band’s core tenet of love. Smiles crept onto Sword II’s faces and strangers in the pit exchanged hugs as the venue’s lights came on, a reminder to carry that love into the real world.