CHICAGO-As musicians have delved deeper and deeper into studio techniques, creating music that is increasingly difficult to recreate in concert, fans of live music have found themselves split between their favorite recording artists and their favorite live bands. The Books have made a name for themselves in the studio-using found sounds and cut-up samples (aleatoric music, they call it, meaning that it is "done randomly, characterized by chance"), they weave intricate melodies, rhythms and harmonies through songs that range from atmospheric mood pieces ("Take Time") to frenetic travelogues ("Tokyo"). But presenting The Books in a live setting raises more issues than seem necessary, from the adaptation of their digitally dependent music into a nonstudio setting to the simple question of how many people are actually in the band.

The answer, by the way, is two. The Books played a one-off gig at the Viaduct Theater in Chicago on Dec. 30 for the online music magazine Pitchfork Media's two-day New Year's bash. Nick Zammuto and Paul de Jong brought only their guitars and cellos with them for live instrumentation, and relied on a small laptop computer to run the rhythm and sound samples that fleshed out their songs.

Their set list was delightful-14 songs presented with 12 visual accompaniments created by the band and played on a screen behind them-and included fan-favorites like the hypnotic "Take Time" and "The Future, Wouldn't That Be Nice," off of 2003's The Lemon of Pink. All the songs sounded much the same as on the albums, probably due to the large number of samples used, but The Books excelled at remaining engaged in the performance.

The visual accompaniments helped as well: "S is for Everything" was played to clips of the band members' home movies, strung into a loose comic narrative. A small inter-song video clip called "Meditation" was a brilliant mood-lightener after the heavy ending of "The Future, Wouldn't That Be Nice." Here, the word "meditation" was repeated over and over again as the screen flashed different anagrams of the word. It finally ended with an anagram of "Meditation on Evil!" There was no message here, no deep thoughts that The Books were trying to make the audience understand-it was all for a chuckle, and the band was cracking up on stage as the audience laughed at the absurd video clip.

The visual tricks took on increasing significance during the show, as one-by-one, the clips became a bit more complex and even more suited to the songs they accompanied. It was in this way that The Books were able to overcome a rather basic performance (though basic by necessity, I suppose) and turn their show into a real feast for the senses. Zammuto's singing was as soft and delicate as it is on the album. Though he had some trouble at times with his own fast-paced, tongue-twisting lyrics, breaking the spell on the audience, he was able to lighten the mood in an infinitely enjoyable way. His guitar playing, meanwhile, was immaculate.

The Viaduct theater was a small concert hall, with only one somewhat spacious room, lined by chairs on risers for anyone too tired (or drunk) to stand, with the small stage against one wall. The venue was sparse and not as crowded as I had expected (I assumed the show would be more popular, if only because The Books don't seem to tour all that often).

Regardless, both Zammuto and de Jong displayed their true talent as musicians, instinctively and silently determining the dynamics needed to create the best show possible. They overcame the obstacles their music inherently presented in order to play what was, essentially, an awesome and energizing show. I left feeling happy, uplifted and really lucky to see such a talented band play live music that I thought would never translate well. The Books dashed all of my reservations, and made my New Year's trip to Chicago entirely worthwhile.