Although barely two months have passed since the Antlers first stepped foot inside the Chicago city limits to play the Pitchfork Festival, it's clear that their time spent on the road since then has turned the band's anthemic shoegaze sound from mesmerizing to downright inspiring. Humbly walking onstage at Subterranean to a near sold-out crowd Monday night, you would have never guessed it was the trio's first proper show in Chicago.

Wasting no time giving the crowd exactly what they came for, the Antlers started off with a slowed-down version of fan favorite 'Bear' as singer/guitarist Peter Silberman stunned the first few rows with his dynamic vocal range. A sped-up take on 'Sylvia' soon followed, with the typically soft-spoken Silberman appearing more confident, stamping his foot along to the music and even singing the almost a cappella outro amidst a soft veil of keyboard and cymbal flourishes.

For a band that has only been playing together for several years, Silberman and his bandmates, Michael Lerner and Darby Cicci, complement each other well, taking musical cues from a rush of guitar feedback or a slight keyboard chord. Their comfort level onstage was quite apparent, especially judging from Cicci's decision to play the entire show sans shoes.

Sticking mainly to songs from their narrative-based new album, 'Hospice,' the show reached a fever pitch with the song, 'Two,' as crunchy guitar chords and a three-part vocal harmony intro worked well to turn the normally somber song into a crushing rock behemoth.

With the crowd hanging rapt on every note, it was evident that the band as feeding off of them as well. "Hey Chicago, guess what, you're f---ing awesome," exclaimed Lerner towards the end of the Antlers' set. "It's good to be back here." The crowd cheered and the band launched into 'Shiva,' with Silberman crooning morose lyrics in his haunting falsetto as sweat dripped from the body of his guitar.

Wrapping up their set with 'Epilogue,' Silberman began the a cappella intro and paused slightly to smirk as a car noisily peeled away outside. Without missing a beat, Silberman continued, leading his bandmates as they transformed the melancholic acoustic final track from their record into a slowly built-up rumbling noise-jam, with Silberman wailing the heartwrenching chorus into the microphone: "You're screaming, and cursing, and angry, and hurting me, and then smiling, and crying, apologizing." The shared looks of astonishment on fans' faces as they listened to the last note fade away were evidence of the poignant shared experience they had just witnessed.