Wild, young indie-rock band the Cherry Tree Parade blossoms with a digitally enhanced sound

It’s the night of Cherry Tree Parade‘s CD-release party, and the Thursday-night crowd at Czar Bar doesn’t know what to expect from the young local band.

Having never caught a show myself, I’m hard-pressed to find anyone who can even point out one of the four members to me. An acquaintance of mine hasn’t heard of them. But like many this night, she snagged a copy of Cherry Tree Parade’s self-titled EP from the fellow with the black vest and bright-red tie at the merch table. “He’s hot!” my friend giggles.

As it turns out, singer and guitarist Matthew Collins is also quite the showman. Around 11 p.m., when CTP hits the stage, he breaks the ice with an intimation of the good times his band has in store for the 50 or so people hanging out. “I hope you guys like to party,” he announces, ” ’cause there’s a song when we want you all to take a shot with us.”

The fact is, no one in this band looks old enough for shots. And, indeed, one of them isn’t. Matthew’s brother, Jonathon Collins, who sings and plays keyboard and bass, is just 20. (Matthew is 23.) But as music fans know, age doesn’t have much to do with one’s ability to rock. And the Collins brothers, who look a little like the Jonas Brothers with their dark hair and sharp clothes, have been jamming together almost all of their lives.

They’ve been playing with their bandmates — drummer Alex Reed and guitarist Brandon Chavez — for just a few months, which is part of the reason that the performance is a bit rough. (Reed and Chavez, who also play together in Mr. History, joined Cherry Tree Parade soon after the two bands played a show together.) Long pauses punctuate the set list as the band members confer and fiddle with the laptop that provides some backing tracks. But the Collinses smile as they curse their Apple computer, which refuses to play its parts on one of the songs.

The downtime, thankfully, doesn’t take away from the fact that when they’re playing, this band of post-Radiohead rockers is impressive. The Collinses harmonize and trade lead-vocal duties on a batch of digitally enhanced, romantic indie-pop songs that inspire dancing near the stage. Chavez stands between the brothers, so focused that he squeezes his eyes shut for virtually the whole time. He’s virtually stationary until falling to his knees toward the end of the set.

Over the past year and a half, the Collins brothers have watched a lot of guitarists and drummers come and go. “I don’t know if we’re bad bandmates,” Matthew tells me later. “The hardest part is finding people who are passionate.” When they lost their bass player about three weeks ago, Jonathon took over the role.

The brothers moved from the Seattle area to Leavenworth in 2007 to be closer to their mother, who was struggling with an illness at the time. She’s better now, Matthew says, but her sons aren’t moving any farther than Kansas City. “I actually really love Kansas City. Everyone’s so welcoming,” he says. He’s currently taking sound-engineer classes at Kansas City, Kansas, Community College. He used his producing skills on the band’s five-song EP, which is remarkably slick, considering it was mostly recorded in his bedroom. The pop element of the songs really comes through on the CD.

Live, things get a little more raucous, particularly after Matthew declares it shot time. Shortly after downing some cherry-colored liquid, he puts his guitar down in favor of a drumhead and drumstick. He spazzes out onstage, singing and drumming through a song called “Beards Grow, Bodies Go.” Eventually, a friend of the band gets up onstage with a drumhead, too, and for a moment, it seems that they might lead a parade through the bar.

After one last song, the small but rapt audience yells for more. “We don’t have any more songs, yet!” Matthew explains. “Isn’t that sad?” Reed and Chavez step off the stage, leaving the Collinses to figure out something. The brothers do a quick cover of “Fake Empire” by the National, and then the show is really over.

In the moments that follow, a crowd of women, including all the ladies of opening act Softee, swarm the band for pictures and congratulations. Young Jonathon shifts awkwardly as a cute Asian girl tries to entice him to an after party and then swipes the hat off his head and replaces it with hers. “This is the most attention I’ve ever gotten after a show,” he muses as she wanders off.

He’d better get used to it.