If your radio dial hasn't been locked on WDVE, NPR or AM oldies, you may have noticed indie artists of the past decade re-introducing danceability into rock music. In the '80s, synthpop or the broader "dance-oriented rock" of a Duran Duran 12-inch remix lured acolytes into the clubs, but in 2002 when bands such as LCD Soundsystem, The Rapture and The Faint did the same, "dancepunk" had somehow become too underground for radio when rap dominated the Top 40.

Fast forward to 2007: staying up late, I clicked on the PBS music show Austin City Limits. Usually, the program hosted roots-rockers, but that night they featured an incongruous duo consisting of nothing but synths and drums. The singer sported braided pigtails like a movie-set Indian and leaped around while his partner wore a flashy cape. By the end of the show, I discovered the name of the band was Ghostland Observatory.

I thought nothing more of it until recently, when I saw an announcement about Ghostland's two-night stand at Mr Smalls. It seemed ambitious, but not overly shocking, that an electro-rock duo would be popular enough to draw at least a thousand people. Blog house (defined in Wikipedia as "abandoning the buildup-breakdown-buildup formula in favor of chaotic arrangement ... and remixes of indie rock") had infiltrated American hipsterland, while in the UK, Madchester was re-created by the New Rave movement ("a musical fusion of rock and dance ... and a particular anarchic, trashy energy"). Groups such as The CSS, Hot Chip, MSTRKRFT, Justice, Crystal Castles, Klaxons, Simian Mobile Disco and New Young Pony Club prevailed on Gen-Y's Myspace and YouTube, if not commercial airwaves.

Little did I know that Ghostland Observatory had helped to lead the charge, having been formed in 2002 in Austin by the ponytailed Aaron Behrens and caped Thomas Ross Turner. According to a Gothamist interview, Mr. Behrens named the band because his brain was filled with ghostly sonatas and astral observations. "I had been working on electronic music for a couple years," says Mr. Turner. "I checked the wanted section in the Austin Chronicle and answered an ad for a band Aaron was in. That band didn't work out, but we hit it off and started doing Ghostland."

The duo's electronic leanings stood out in Austin. "There was a punk scene in the Red River district," Mr. Turner recalls, "and classic Austin -- blues, rock and country influences. Then you had us, doing electronics, rock, psych and funk mixed into one. It was a little different than what people were going out to see."

The group found a distinct advantage in limiting the lineup to two.

"With a four- or five-piece, you get people who aren't as motivated or don't share the same interests. Aaron and I work out our schedules, and either we both agree on something or we don't do it. The whole 'we're not a band' thing [stated on their last.fm page] is a way for us not to take it too seriously. We're a couple of friends making music who like to jam out and have a good time."

That freewheeling attitude is not surprising for a guy whose influences tend toward the glam side of pop ("Freddy Mercury, Giorgio Moroder, Gary Glitter, Prince") as much as club-culture heroes such as Green Velvet and Laurent Garnier. Ghostland snagged their TV debut via happenstance: an invitation to Lollapalooza, then a last-minute slot at the Austin City Limits live festival. But their indie ethic was methodical, releasing four albums so far on their own Trashy Moped imprint, including the new "Codename: Rondo."

Two dudes with synthesizers can be less than exciting in a large setting, so the duo solves the problem the way Jean-Michel Jarre or Daft Punk would: a stage show involving more laser beams than Battlestar Galactica. They've toured for four years with a company based in Bridgeville (yet another Pittsburgh high-tech connection) called Lightwave International, which works with arena-size acts such as Roger Waters and Madonna as well as the Penguins hockey team.

"[Lightwave owner] George Dodworth really wanted to do something ultra-spectacular for this tour, so we're traveling with 16 lasers, more than any other band in history," claims Mr. Turner. "There's a blue geometric grid around us. Ten lasers project the grid, four additional lasers go out into the crowd, and two gold lasers do effects onstage. The brilliant colors are choreographed right on the money with the music. There's so much light and speed that it doesn't seem real."

That much emphasis on visual presentation over musical substance, however, has led to a backlash where some see the band as a flash in the pan despite their five-year discography. Exhibit A: the revered Pitchfork music site, which panned "Codename: Rondo" with a brutal 1.5, one of their lowest ratings in years.

"Pitchfork has never liked us, and that's fine," Mr. Turner states assuredly. "Their description was supposed to be derogatory, but they mentioned how the vocals sounded like they were hooked up to a malfunctioning modem, which sounds pretty cool to me."

"We're not making a record for fans or critics," he continues. "The whole point was to do something different, and when you do that, people either love or hate it, so you have to take both. If you try to make music to please anyone, you might as well be in some middle-of-the-road band [with] an ad agency telling you to change this or change that."

Mr. Turner adds that the duo recorded "Codename: Rondo" as if it were their first project, attempting to remain free of outside pressures. The result works best for the latest crop of kids who could care less whether a sound is made by a guitar or a computer.

"There are always purists who want to hear a clean guitar tone with an analog console mixed down to tape," he said. "I totally get that, and there's sonic value to it that can be appreciated. But as far as creating sounds, it doesn't just have to be dry vocals [and] a drumbeat. In the past, people were afraid because it sounded too repetitive or too much like disco, but the younger generation is more open minded."

Audiences at Ghostland Observatory shows are those who readily accept a fusion of electronica and rock. "Listen to mainstream pop radio, and almost every song has a techno beat or filtering, or some other trick that electronic artists have always been using," Mr. Turner said. "You never would have heard that even 10 years ago, but now it's not even a thought about whether you play rock -- it's just people doing whatever and making cool sounds."