A casual music fan scanning the list of State Theatre concerts this winter might have been surprised to see that sold-out shows included, among others, the inescapable Lake Street Dive, all-time legend Brian Wilson – and a little band called the Mountain Goats. The band’s performance Monday was just their second-ever concert in Maine, but their brand of acerbic yet anthemic rock is a good fit for our state’s sensibilities; singer and songwriter John Darnielle’s verbose tales of outsiders and dreamers feature cynicism and optimism engaged in an endless arm-wrestling match, a perfect mentality for those who must endure bitter cold and snowfall in April, while most people are getting their barbecue grills out.

At this point, the Mountain Goats could play larger rooms – the State Theatre is beckoning just up the street – but they deliberately chose to make this tour more intimate, inspired by a concert at City Winery in New York last year. They took a break from promoting their wrestling-inspired album, “Beat the Champ,” to perform a looser, acoustic set, and they found that approach suited them. For this tour, they are using acoustic instruments, playing under dimmer lights and reaching deep in their catalog.

The diehards received a set of obscure older tracks (“Maize Stalk Drinking Blood”) and crowd-pleasing standbys (“This Year”), performed with a rolling energy and Darnielle leading the way like a mad, laughing specter. The set was immaculately rehearsed, which led to stunning moments, such as the performance of “Stabbed to Death Outside of San Juan,” a skeletal telling of a locker-room murder after a wrestling match. The song may be the band’s most sophisticated composition, rich with horror-movie tension and full of dramatic starts and stops, and the band nailed it.

In the middle of the set, Darnielle took the stage solo and played whatever popped into his head. He mused about the Grateful Dead’s excessive stage tuning and felt inspired to play the Dead’s “Ripple.” The most affecting song in this passage was his reworked version of “Steal Smoked Fish,” which was slowed down, adapted to solo organ accompaniment and sung with soulful, hushed tones. This arrangement added layers of wistfulness and poignancy to a song he initially couldn’t find a way to include on an album.

It may be reductive to call a Mountain Goats set the equivalent of a short-story collection – Darnielle did recently have a New York Times bestseller with his debut novel, “Wolf in White Van” – but there is a similar sense of satisfaction afterward, as if you’ve been introduced to a great number of people, places and vampire-based metaphors. The surface appeal of a Mountain Goats show is plain: The band’s musicianship is undeniable, the songs full of hooks, and Darnielle’s singing has an underrated depth of character. Pay close attention, and that’s where the good stuff is. You come away feeling as if you’ve actually traveled, and your imagination’s passport has been given several new stamps.

Robert Ker is a freelance music writer in Portland, where he and his wife own the vintage store Find. Contact him at:

bobzker@gmail.com

Twitter: @bobbker

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