As the real-life leader of the Los Angeles-based collective - E. Sharpe is as nonexistent as the musical note it refers to - he's responsible for wrangling anywhere between eight and a dozen supplementary members, and channeling their energies into songs that are equal parts religious revival and Sesame Street sing-along. At the church, the merrymaking band numbered nine all told, although it was hard to produce a definitive count since every time one member shifted places on the cramped stage, another was revealed standing in the shadows behind.

In less hirsute and more fully clothed days, Ebert made two major-label albums with the dance-rock band Ima Robot, an experience sufficiently scarring to send him running to the opposite extreme.

Rather than being slick and mechanistic, the Zeros' songs are ragged and sprawling, anchored (sometimes just barely) by the lead vocals of Ebert and girlfriend Jade Castrinos. On "Home," which was taken, like most of the 75-minute set's songs, from their debut album Up From Below, they trade vocals like an old-time country duo, passing a single microphone back and forth and sometimes holding it for the other partner.

From the first notes of the wordless introduction to "Janglin," the sold-out and sweaty crowd transformed themselves into auxiliary band members, chanting choruses and filling the air with waving hands. It was as though the chaos on stage gave them permission to give up control as well.

The communal vibe might seem to simply be a matter of critical mass, but the opening band Fool's Gold evoked it only fitfully, despite its seven-man lineup. Joining their fellow Angelenos for the first of several weeks of shows, they drew on a variety of styles from West and South Africa, from the polyrhythms of Mali to the intertwining guitars of township jive, all topped with vocals by Israel-born Luke Top, who sings in both English and Hebrew.

With rhythm instruments frequently occupying more than half of the band members, there was plenty to dance to, but the music never transcended its influences. Leave a half-dozen talented musicians in a basement with a couple of Orchestra Baobab records for a week and they'd emerge sounding much the same.