The Jesus Lizard, recently reunited after a decade-long hiatus, brought its pulverizing art blues to Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza last night. See above for photos from the gig by Laal Shams, and read on for a review by Hank Shteamer.

Near the end of the Jesus Lizard’s concert at Irving Plaza last night, frontman David Yow—a man legendary for his onstage crudeness—offered what seemed like an uncharacteristically wholesome band introduction. He named his collaborators, guitarist Duane Denison, bassist David William Sims and drummer Mac McNeilly, paying affectionate tribute to each man’s family in the process. Then the other shoe dropped. “Mac’s son Angus is the coolest!” Yow enthused. “He’s so cool that I want to stick my dick in him.”

Yes, this was a vintage-style Jesus Lizard performance in almost every way. It offered no great surprises, but simply reinforced what a special band this was and how its appeal stretches way beyond mere shock value. The recently reunited outfit played a long and varied set. Several classics, such as “Puss,” Seasick” and “Mouth Breather,” came early, as if the band was anxious to demonstrate that it could still summon its now-mythic coiled-spring energy. Sims and McNeilly stomped in furious unison as Denison layered on his trademark queasy, snarling lines. Meanwhile, Yow was his typical drunken-dervish self, offering comically florid hula moves, sending spit wads rocketing into the stage, leaping into the crowd without warning and devising creative ways to almost-but-not-quite expose his genitalia. In contrast with an uninspired local appearance by his other band, Qui, in 2007, Yow seemed ecstatic and thoroughly in his element here.

Amid treating the crowd to its myriad raucous anthems, the quartet slipped in some choice surprises, including the slow, potently creepy “My Own Urine” (from 1990’s Head, recently reissued, along with the band’s other early-’90s classics), a few of the stronger tracks from 1996’s uneven Shot and even a thunderous yet economical McNeilly drum solo. The result was a 90-minute set that featured zero lulls.

Overall, the gig served as a reminder that while there will always be a demand for earnest, polite rock bands such as Grizzly Bear, a certain percentage of fans will never stop craving something a little more dangerous. It’s easy to trace a line from the Stooges through Black Flag and the Jesus Lizard straight up to Pissed Jeans, Drunkdriver and other ruckus-raising noise punks of today. Still, it’s doubtful that any other group, past, present or future, could ever make scuzzy catharsis sound so eerily beautiful as Yow & Co. do.