Experience this, Paul Allen.

Experience the music projecting from the three vivacious establishments on Eastlake Avenue East — sandwiched between I-5 and the South Lake Union commercial developments dubbed "Allentown" (new projects led by Allen's Vulcan Inc.).

Experience Cafe Venus and the MarsBar, where Port Townsend outfit the Gelding is powering through a complex, instrumental finale. Experience Lo_Fi, a lower-Manhattan-esque club where DJ's are spinning house and disco on this hot night.

Experience, most of all, the Emergency.

This staggeringly energetic garage/punk band is led by a pair of Auburn expatriates and ex-lovers, à la the White Stripes — which is certainly not lost on the bass player, who goes by the name Nick Detroit. The emergence of the Emergency is one of the bright spots of Seattle music this year as the band has risen out of an over-crowded apartment (five or six people crashing in a one-bedroom) in Ballard, where it created its screaming-like-a-new-baby body of work.

Maybe you've heard their song "Get It Up" on KEXP. "I have to tell you," says John Richards, the KEXP morning DJ and new-music scout, "when you sit and listen to demos all day long, getting the Emergency was one of the highlights of the year. ... The live show was even better."

The Emergency also had a performance on KNDD "The End," which has been showcasing local bands heavily of late.

Perhaps the best place to experience the Emergency is at the Lobo Saloon, a joint that's as unpretentious and functional as a rowboat. The "green room" is a slender outdoor deck, where bands can stuff their gear beneath the crooked Pabst Blue Ribbon umbrella. On that deck a few minutes before her band's performance is Emergency singer Zana "Dita Vox" Geddes — a spunky little thing, wearing a tank top, jeans and sneakers, sipping a gin-and-tonic, bumming a smoke.

She said the lyrics to "Get It Up" came to her as soon after her bandmates started playing the catchy music for her. "If I don't think of something fast, they yell at me!" she insisted, yelling a little herself.

Though the title, which is also the chorus, may sound sexual, especially coming from a woman, Geddes says it was really aimed at a woman — someone who just sat around griping and never doing anything. "It's all about, 'Get off your [behind] and do something!' "

That precisely is the philosophy behind the Emergency: Do stuff. Write songs, play shows, put posters up, record a demo EP, write more songs, play more shows — get things going. Get it up! The Emergency has had some 40 shows since February, playing any place they can get a booking to try to win converts.

"We don't play sad; we're not about politics — we just want people to have fun. We want people to come to our show and think they're getting a lot for their money."

The cover at the Lobo is the usual, $5. As soon as the Emergency launches its set with a raucous instrumental jam — the guitar and bass players are already flopping around on the floor — it's clear the 40 or so listeners are getting their money's worth. The crowd is already revved up as Geddes grabs the microphone and growl-sings:

Don't smoke

Don't drink

Don't do anything you really think ...

You go to home

You go to work

And refuse to believe that you're really a jerk

I've got something I need to tell you

You need to get it up!

How rock 'n' roll is this? They've got a song on the radio — "local hit" — and play it right away. Live in a rowdy bar, some of Geddes' vocals are lost, but the trade-off is the music; a little on the tinny side on the demo being played on the radio, live the guitar-drums hit you in the gut and keep slugging away, a one-two punching powerhouse.

Turns out, there is much, much more to the Emergency than one song. Few bands put as much energy into an entire set as this group puts into every song: "The Dope Song," "Sweat Sex," "Can You Dig It," etc. The band keeps up a furious pace for 45 minutes, blasting one garage-anthem after another (all originals, though heavily in debt to the Stooges and MC5). Geddes spends her time in the crowd singing in people's faces, dancing with fans across the beer-slicked floor.

While the Emergency performs with all the mischievous hyperactivity of junior devils on a weekend pass from hell, it's not all energy, as there's quite a bit of musical talent here. On "You Loved Me," Geddes broodingly howls like a young Janis Joplin, as the Emergency winds down for a blues-rocker.

The band plays its last song, leaves the makeshift stage — and the crowd chants "one more! one more!" And the Emergency somewhat sheepishly returns for its first-ever encore. Not the last, likely.

Next up for the Emergency: Chop Suey on Wednesday (10 p.m., $6), the historic Hotel Stanwood on Aug. 20, then the Sunset Tavern on Aug. 24. For more information, visit www.theemergencytheband.com.

Tom Scanlon: tscanlon@seattletimes.com