The Old 97s, the long-touring alt-country band, arrived at the 9:30 Club on Saturday night with a trail of questions in tow – What happened with Rhett Miller’s solo album? What keeps this band going 11 years later, if they’ll never break the charts, fill arenas, or anchor festivals? How can so many variations on the same song formula still be so damn catchy? And yet, the most important question of the night is one the audience might have been afraid to ask:

Faith is blind, but is it deaf also?

The band was sloppy, lead singer Rhett Miller (at right) couldn’t carry the tune, hold a note, or stay in key until at least halfway into the set. The effect was nothing short of distressing. Old 97s albums are bouncy and bounding, layered and lamentful. These darlings of the Austin underground have produced six albums, including the beloved Satellite Rides, the plaintive Fight Songs, and the rocker Too Far to Care. On disc, the songs are immediately accessible, singalongable and still rough enough around the edges to keep them interesting. The band has a reputation for a live show that outdoes the polished recorded product. On Saturday night, at least, that promise was unfulfilled.

The faithful, still, were undeterred. As the band developed momentum, navigating through missed lyrics and Miller’s shortness of breath, the crowd bopped along dutifully, as head-nodding became foot-tapping became more jubilant dancing. The band hit its stride somewhere between “Won’t Be Home,” with its top-of-the-lung chorus, and “Barrier Reef,” with its player-no-more storytelling. Where the voices and melodies petered out, the audience’s imagination filled in the blanks.

One of the joys of being an Old 97s fan is the satisfaction from liking a band that won’t be on MTV, without the corresponding downfalls of low-fi production and disaffected art rock performances. Here, under the Old 97s tent, a sputtering live performance, compared to the clean, warm sounds of studio production, turned this believer somewhat skeptical.