Once upon a time, when a band was super-catchy, whole throngs of scenesters were known to wobble a leg up and down in time to the music. On certain magical nights, when the beat was unbearably amazing and the Stella was on special, spontaneous incidents of the Indie Nod might have even broken out in tandem with the leg wobbles: arms casually folded across the chest, eyes fixed on the stage, bangs falling across the forehead; the ultimate hipster wanton display of enthusiasm involved a gentle, rhythmic head-bobbing along with the kick drum.

Then came Shout Out Out Out Out, unleashing more latent energy than a Los Alamos physics experiment as they induced Edmonton band-watchers to shed their man-purses along with their inhibitions and transform into one writhing, seething, Studio 54-esque mass. Rarely has there been this much dancing outside of gay bars and movies that feature "the kids" sticking it to the town preacher and his cronies.

And how could they not dance? Between mirror image drummers Gravy and Clint Frazier flailing manically away at their kits, vocoder-armed ringleader Nik Kozub bouncing up and down like Tigger on amphetamines while frequently announcing, "We’re a DANCE band!", and bandmates Lyle Bell, Jason Troock, and Will Zimmerman either manning bass guitars or electro instruments, you’d have to be a truly spiritless, puppy-kicking, monster to be unmoved by the joyful display that is Shout Out Out Out Out.

Not to mention the sonic assault. Virtually everything played by the boys resonates in the chest like a deep, thrilling crush and the willful mirth of their dance floor anthems bypasses the brain and goes straight for the body’s shimmy-centres in the hips and shoulders. Shout Out tunes, spiked with titles like "The Waveforms Look Like Sausages," are like speedballs for the feet.

Although the group features members of alpha local bands like Whitey Houston, The Franklins, and Veal, few could have predicted the sheer amount of zoom Shout Out took off with as they rocketed into the stratosphere, least of all the participants. Their first gig was supporting the Operators at their sold-out CD release. A couple shows later, this past Halloween, they played an unforgettable all ages gig at a roller rink. When their staggering plethora of gear caused the power to cut out mid-song, the band started clapping the rhythm, and in an awesome display of hive-mind, the entire room followed, staying on beat until the electricity surged back on and the gang picked right up where they’d let off, to a riot of cheers.

Hitting NXNE earlier this summer snagged them glowing national press, management (in the form of the selective folks at Six Shooter), and a slot in October’s cross-Canada Exclaim! tour.

Not bad for an entity comprised of near electro-virgins barely grazing its first anniversary.

Haters beware

"It’s bananas!" marvels Kozub. "None of us has ever played in a band where we had such a strong positive reaction right off the bat. I don’t get it, but I’m glad people care and seem to enjoy it. We don’t ask for good reviews. We didn’t ask to do an Exclaim! tour. Things have just been... happening. It’s been," he pauses and considers the band’s trajectory, "easier."

He stresses, "Not easy–easier."

Kozub speculates on their white-hot reception. "Part of it is that the whole music scene is completely open. It’s okay now for a bunch of rocker types and ex-punk types to start a dance band and play synths. It’s a fun thing. We want people to dance. Of course there’re people who don’t like us, but..."

"At least they have a reaction to it," points out Troock, who along with Kozub also heads up the band’s label, Nrms Wlcm Records.

"I know a lot of people aren’t feeling the dance thing," Kozub maintains, "but I like fun."

But not of the mindless, craftless variety. "I can’t imagine we were any good at first," admits Kozub. "We have two drummers, and we’re playing weird instruments! Ugh. People will get over that quickly. So we concentrated on writing good songs."

He muses, "In a way it’s hard to let our band be what it is–more dance-y. We have punk-rock backgrounds. Will always wants to step on his distortion pedals."

Troock laughs, "One review said we were like six people from different planets on stage, in a good way. We all rein each other in. With six people in the band, you have to ask the song–is this necessary?"

"We’re all rockers who want to play all the time," Kozub concurs. "It’s really easy to forget you don’t have to play everything all the time. Restraint makes it interesting."

Kozub concludes that, "the dance thing after punk is a pretty natural progression. You’re after the same objective–a packed dance floor and high energy in the room–reciprocal energy with the crowd. I think that’s why we’ve been able to settle into it. It’s not some ambient laptop thing that puts distance between us and the crowd. Though we like that stuff, the good stuff, it’s a more natural thing for us to be like, ‘Woo hoo! Let’s party!’"

He underlines this sentiment with a few fist pumps in the air.

Mixed nuts

Kozub has additional expertise orchestrating that "woo hoo" experience, as the self-confessed vinyl-head is also a veteran DJ. Not only does his spinning inform his music, it also exerts an influence on how he chooses to release it for public consumption.

"We really wanted to do a 12" single," he states. "It works for what we wanted and seems right, and it’s good for club play. It’s a good tactic that allows you to bridge the gap between albums."

It’s also a vehicle for a wax-nerd’s wet dream: the remix. Hence the debut Shout Out Out Out Out release features three songs: "Tiiired," and two versions of "Nobody Calls Me Unless They Want Something"–the original and a remix by Berlin-based Mocky, who was part of that Canadian exodus to Germany that included Feist, Peaches, and Gonzales.

"I think both these songs sum up the band, lyrically. Cynical. Goofy. My words are kind of curmudgeonly, not intentionally," notes Kozub. "We are just really into Mocky’s albums and thought he would be perfect, so we emailed his manager, thinking, ‘We’ll try for Mocky –yeah, right.’ But whoa–he was into it."

Troock and Kozub grin in tandem, twin looks of bemusement flickering across their faces, like neither can quite bring themselves to fully believe their luck. You half-expect their knuckles to madly scramble for some wood to knock before the moment passes.

"To hear someone else’s take on what you’re doing is so strange," Kozub explains. "We buy records for the remixes. We’re so excited to have someone we love doing our remix. Mocky is fairly known in Germany–a big and essential market for what we’re doing. We hope that gives us some boost there."

That’s a market that the vinyl will drop in, alongside the Canadian release. A simultaneous digital release through iTunes and other e-shops takes the band global.

"We’re definitely pro-Edmonton, but we’re not Edmonton-exclusive," nods Kozub. "We’d love to tour Germany."

Aside from reaching outside their country, Kozub and Troock also think they can find converts beyond the narrow "dance band" genre lovers.

Kozub points to their elder drummer as evidence. "I don’t think Gravy will ever go buy a techno record, but he’s accepting of it now. He can recognize when something is slamming. Genre? No one knows what to call this stuff. It’s freaking out. The kind of music we’re doing is still not prevalent. No one in Canada that I know of. I don’t think there’s anyone who sounds like us."

Exhaustive listening

Anguish descends on Troock and Kozub as they are quizzed on their picks for "essential" 12"s.

"Everything that Gomma, Kitsuné, and DFA put out, I buy," Kozub says, emphatically. "Everything."

They agree on LCD Soundsystem’s "Losing My Edge" (DFA; 2002). "It sums up what makes DFA great," enthuses Kozub. "The song starts with minimal Casio, and by the end it’s insane. The lyrics are so hilarious. Cynical but not mean. Listening, I know he is as much a record-head as I am. And he’s poking fun at me and at himself."

Troock adds, "Plus we look up to him."

"Because he was in Six Finger Satellite, shooting heroin in their eyeballs and rocking," Kozub interjects, miming the action. "He came from same direction as us. Punk to dance. A real inspiration."

"New Order. ‘Blue Monday’ (Factory Records; 1983)," Troock says. "In terms of a song that’s always relevant. The bestselling 12" of all time. The Rapture, ‘House of Jealous Lovers’ (DFA; 2002). A total house classic, bridging the gap for us between house music and indie rock."

Kozub cites Joakim’s "Vibramatic" (Crippled Dick Hot Wax; 2003). "Joakim has some of the most tasteful ’80s sounds. Funky and dance-y without being too dark. It’s a remake of a Lionel Hampton song [from 1984] but bears no resemblance. Black Strobe, ‘Italian Fireflies’ [Kitsuné; 2004]. A total dance and floor anthem. They know when to bring in heavy bass line; come in with a hook. Perfectly crafted."

The duo fret that "essential" is limiting. "It might be better to do a ‘recommended listening’ thing, just because we change our minds so much and great stuff is constantly coming out," emails Kozub, along with a list: Manhead, Mu, Add n to (x), T Raumschmiere, Solvent, International Pony, Liquid Liquid, Tomboy, WhoMadeWho, Kraftwerk, Colder, Hot Chip, Junior Boys, Munk, Hiltmeyer Inc., Daft Punk, Mitgang Audio, Captain Comatose, Simian Mobile Disco, Glimmers, Zongamin, Tiefschwarz, Jeans Team, Isolee, Out Hud, Metro Area, Bell, Giorgio Moroder, The Juan Maclean, Leroy Hanghofer, Maurice Fulton, Swayzak, Cut Copy, Blue Ribbon, Alter Ego, Ricardo Villalobos, and Chromeo–for starters.

"www.discogs.com is probably the best resource out there for electronic music," he notes. "It's an insane user-updated database."