Seeing Paul Westerberg [ tickets ] in 2005 is a lot like seeing his pioneering indie-rock band, The Replacements, in the mid-to-late '80s. Depending on your love for the music (and your concert-going patience level), this could be a very good--or very bad--thing.

The Replacements--the Minnesota-bred band that, despite its lack of commercial success, achieved unparalleled cult devotion--was known for its displays of rock-n-roll living on stage. Shows were often hilariously impromptu, songs falling apart from apathy, anger and a flood of liquor. This never really mattered to the fans, though. Who cares if the lead singer's flat on his back on (or off) stage, when you can scream those great lyrics ("Meet me anyplace or anywhere or anytime/Now, I don't care, meet me tonight/If you will dare, I will dare"). And many times it was less about the music, and more about what would happen next.

Westerberg's show at the Henry Fonda Theatre in Hollywood Wednesday (2/23) proved that even with the years and without the old band, nothing much has changed. After starting energetically with a solo song, "Knocking on Mine," into The Replacements' "Kiss Me on the Bus," Westerberg began to show his old trademarks--songs that start and stop without notice, alternately spitting vitriol and praise at the audience, band members looking at him for guidance, and guitars, among other items, thrown backwards and forwards (and caught by faithful roadies) in madness, spite and joy.

The sweetly dubbed "His Only Friends" band--guitarist Kevin Bowe, former Prince drummer Michael Bland and bassist Jim Bouquist of Son Volt, all from Minneapolis--helped Westerberg through more than two dozen songs (or parts of them) over two and half hours. The Replacements songs hit and missed, Westerberg relying on the audience to fill in forgotten lyrics for such standards as "Waitress in the Sky" and "Merry Go Round." But when they worked--as in "Someone Take the Wheel," "Little Mascara" and, especially, "Alex Chilton"--they soared, reminding everyone why they put up with their curmudgeon of a hero.

Along with many recent songs, the band threw in random covers like the Bobby Womack/Rolling Stones classic "It's All Over Now," The Partridge Family's "I Think I Love You" and, yes, Neil Diamond's "Cherry, Cherry." Late in the encore, and with no introduction, Lucinda Williams joined in on Westerberg's love song, "Born for Me." There were also teases: at one point, Westerberg's guitar seemed to be aching out the starting chords to The Replacements' "Unsatisfied," but when the crowed oohed and cheered, he abruptly stopped and moved to something else.

But as predictably unpredictable as he can be, Westerberg still charmed his fans, and gave them more--in entertainment value alone--than their money's worth. Though at times he can seem miserable to be there, to the crowd, all that matters is he is there. Still mad at something or someone, still frustrating and impertinent, but also still continually cranking out those great, gorgeous tunes.