Icelandic group Múm, pronounced "Moom", played on Wednesday night at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple. This came as part of two NY shows leading up to their appearance at Coachella (which begins today). It's been a kind of comeback for the group, who were arguably more popular in the late 90s, and by 2007 were down to just two members (Tynes and Smárason) from an original four. The band is now almost completely new, with five additions: guitarist/vocalist/violinist Ólöf Arnalds, trumpet/keyboard player Eiríkur Orri Ólafsson, vocalist/cellist Hildur Guðnadóttir, percussionist Samuli Kosminen and multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Mr. Silla. That's more instruments, and accents, than I care to count.

Múm have pulled slightly away from their former electro obsessions (they used to owe a lot to Aphex Twin and fellow-Icelanders Sigur Rós). On Wednesday they came across as more indie-rock than electronica, a kind of Icelandic Arcade Fire. Most tracks were based on a layer of ambient noise, with very poppy elements worked in on keyboard and laptop, coupled with the extremely high and clear vocal stylings of Hildur, Múm's main lady.

The first half of their set was extremely slow (with no real drum beat or guitar line in sight). This should have been expected given that the area in front of the stage had been provided with rows and rows of chairs, adding to the Talent Show feeling of the Masonic Temple's overall high school vibe. After the first five songs, though, the beat seemed to pick up, and the group played "Marmalade Fires", arguably its best track to date.

Most of the songs, though, lacked energy or really memorable moments. In part it's the uber-seriousness of the group, who sing with their eyes closed or raised to the ceiling in the manner of a choir. During their encore, it was nice to hear a few lines from Kiss's "I was made for loving you". Maybe the sea sounds, the spooky voices, the kazoos and other such Múm elements all go down better in Iceland (along with the rotting shark thing and salted fish snacks). But a little Kiss never hurt anybody.

The halls of the Brooklyn Masonic Temple are a weird combination of Eastern European opulence and high school gymnasium.