Time’s gone inside out.

There was no sense of past or future, only the present moment of indie rock as bodies thrashed on the dance floor and beer spilled on distracted concertgoers.

On Oct. 17, Spoon brought its cheeky energy and nostalgic grunge to the House of Blues. The venue was filled with middle-aged adults and college students moshing to lead singer Britt Daniel’s angsty voice.

Walking out on stage, throwing his empty daiquiri cup aggressively against the wall, Daniels was clearly ready to play for a New Orleans audience. He forcefully grabbed the microphone and the magic began.

The band started with some of its hits, like “Hot Thoughts,” “Inside Out” and “Do I Have to Talk You Into It.” The energy didn’t wane as Spoon made its way through a large chunk of the band’s discography, venturing into more obscure territory.

Daniels, sometimes appearing to attempt a Mick Jagger impression, kept the set interesting and in peak grunge form. He would strut around stage, drop to his knees and travel to his bandmates, performing a ridiculous and entertaining on-stage persona.

There’s no doubt that Daniels is the band’s leader. He commands attention with his physical lurchings and punchy singing.

At one point, everyone left the stage except for Alex Fischel, Spoon’s keyboardist. Playing a dramatic synthy melody, Daniels walked to the back of the stage and laid down on his back. After about 10 minutes of keyboards, Daniels’ arm shot upwards, bringing the mic to his mouth and he began the song, inviting the other members back on stage.

This meaningless act of drama was representative of Spoon’s show. Their live energy and catchy songs are the height of indie rock, while their sometimes ridiculous on-stage thrashings display their lack of self-seriousness and goofy nature.

After a few songs, Daniels interrupted the set to announce the band’s love of New Orleans.

“Yesterday was maybe the best day of the year,” Daniels said. “I went on a 25-mile bike ride. That kind of shit was going on. We did a bike ride. We love this city.”

With unpretentious yet wacky mojo flowing throughout the night, fans were pleased. They demanded an encore after 10 minutes of floor-stomping and chanting and received a three-song reprise.

After departing the stage, the illusion broke and the space transformed back into a seedy concert venue on a Tuesday night. But for a few hours of first-rate grunge, time stood still.