How do you solve a problem like The Baseball Project?

We can start by getting the obvious out of the way. The Baseball Project starting line-up features vocalists/guitarists Scott McCaughey and Steve Wynn. They're known commodities by anyone in the music scene. Linda Pitman plays drums. She's been around forever. Now her throne only pops up for high profile projects. Peter Buck plays guitar and Mike Mills plays bass. They were once in what might have been the biggest band in the world. All of these musicians have appeared in other bands together over the last decade. Buck and McCaughey get the win by appearing in five or six bands together during that span. Each of those bands is a passion project that ignores musical trends and flies (happily) under the top-40 radar.

But McCaughey doesn't like the word "supergroup," so maybe we should start with what McCaughey does like. McCaughey likes baseball. He began assembling the band in 2007 with the singular focus of writing songs about baseball. And he has. Alongside his teammates, he's written songs about the players, about specific games, about scandals, tragedies, and triumphs, and about its fans. This steady diet of baseball has sustained the band for four albums and a glove full of EPs, each featuring interesting songs peppered with colorful characters and fascinating history.

However knowledge of the infield fly rule isn't really necessary when discussing the band, so it's really the music we should start with. The Baseball Project is an alt rock band. It can jangle up a good power pop song. It can explode in indie rock. Influences from disco to reggae are fair game. Like any other band, The Baseball Project loads up the van and hits the road playing small clubs trying to win over one fan at a time. If the quintet dipped into its back catalog they'd be playing stadiums, but they've already done that. Now they're doing this. And what they're doing is good.

The night began just after 8. The room was packed. The crowd was old. Even older than me. I guess here is where I admit that this isn’t just another minor league alt rock band out to prove itself. But there was no pomp. There were no banners or custom light shows or handlers or obsequious stagehands mopping brows. It was a rock show. It began with "Erasable Man" from last year's Grand Salami Time. McCaughey sang that one. Wynn caught the next one. It continued much like that. Mills got a turn on lead vocals. So did Pitmon. Both provided backing vocals. Only Buck was without a microphone. Three guitars rang across the front of the stage. Buck is a rhythm player – sometimes on six strings, sometimes on twelve, but usually on his Rickenbacker. The other two guitarists handled the minimal leads and the solos – McCaughey's were direct and powerful while Wynn's were more convoluted and disjointed. Pitmon has a loose swing. As any batting coach will tell you, that's important.

The mood on stage was light. The band joked with each other and with the audience. They noted that they were at a local jazz club the previous night, and wondered where they should get barbeque before leaving for their next show. McCaughey doesn't eat meat. They also explained the inspiration of some songs. Before the Wynn-penned "Pascual on the Perimeter" the audience was reminded of the game in 1982 where Braves pitcher and new driver Pascual Pérez missed his start as he couldn't find the stadium. Pitmon sang that one. She also beat the snare with a tight post-punk cadence. To honor Kansas City the band played "Satchel Paige Said." It joined a handful of other songs from the band's first album. Just as many came from its third. Most came from its current and fourth album. Fans of the more ornate second album were out of luck. Only "1976" made it to the stage. Coincidently it's the only track on the album where Buck has a writing credit. Not coincidently it is my favorite on the album. Years ago, on tours past, the band was known to play covers and even dip into player's individual back catalogs, but that didn't happen in Kansas City. Like I said, they'd already done that. The band's 23-song set was delivered in two innings with a half hour break in the middle. A two-song encore was added for good measure. During the night's final number (barnstormer "The All or Nothings") McCaughey set down his guitar and just sang, opening space for Buck to pinch hit a gutsy lead. And then they walked off, waving to the crowd as they rounded the corner for the dressing room.

So, what is The Baseball Project? Is it a supergroup comprised of musicians from REM, The Dream Syndicate, The Young Fresh Fellows, and Zuzu's Petals? Yes. A band with a gimmick, writing songs about our national pastime and thus our national history? Yes. An alternative rock band distilling decades of musical inspiration into something fresh and fun? Definitely. Talk about a complete player!