If I knew anything more about Pela outside of their Thursday night performance at Mercury Lounge, I’d probably hate them. Pela strike me as a glorified bar band that—as evidenced by a small horde of young girls that lined the front of the stage—has a following. They put forth a brand of unapologetic, straightforward rock led by a charismatic frontman whose ambition likely outweighs his ability. That said—these guys can play. At face value, they gave one of the best performances I’ve seen thus far at CMJ. Pela galvanized a crowd subdued by the quieter Frances, utilizing a phenomenal group chemistry to lift the Mercury Lounge from a state of suspended animation. In a city where a holier than thou attitude can often reign over a performance, the unabashed lust for rocking Pela brought was refreshing.