Imagine if Nine Inch Nails traded dark for light, if Trent Reznor went on Prozac, found God and swapped all his anger and angst for optimism and joy. If such a remarkable transformation ever took place, it would probably sound, look and feel a lot like Owl City [ tickets ]'s sold-out show Tuesday (10/20) at the Troubadour.

Owl City, the brainchild of 23-year-old Minnesota-spawned Adam Young, has a Top 10 hit with the bubbly, electro-pop number "Fireflies," a track with a formula seemingly lifted from the Postal Service's 2003 hit "Such Great Heights." With the apparent artistic thievery and Young's sometimes annoying omnipresent optimism (he even sounds giddy, not grouchy, when singing about insomnia in "Fireflies" and is absolutely joyous in "Dental Care"), Owl City has become a polarizing attraction.

For those young fans just graduating from the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, it's the real deal with emotional lyrics, clever wordplay, and a seemingly innovative electronic soundtrack. They're too young to remember the Postal Service, let alone Depeche Mode or Kraftwerk. More seasoned and cynical fans find the act's saccharine tunes a bit too sweet to swallow. On modern-rock radio station KROQ Los Angeles, "Fireflies" is in regular rotation, but the morning show frequently fields calls from listeners threatening to gouge their eyes out if they hear the song one more time.

At the Troubadour, there were no such dissenters in the house, rather only the faithful who have fallen head over heels for Young's brand of emotional techno-pop. Those wondering how the synth-pop Wunderkind would take what was basically a bedroom recording project to the stage were in for a surprise as he wisely enlisted a quartet of live players-- keyboardist/backing vocalist Breanne Duren, drummer Matt Decker, cellist Hannah Schroeder and violinist Laura Musten--to add human elements to the act's electronic-heavy sound.

Young himself, nerdy and awkward, proved to be a capable live performer. He occasionally dropped to his knees, and at one point, gripped the microphone stand and a white rose for effect. Aside from dabbling on a keyboard, he often strapped on an electric guitar--though the axe at times seemed more like a prop than an actual instrument, since it was barely audible over the live and programmed big beats and swirling synthetic din.

The material that worked best live showcased human touches that gave life to the synthetic beats and melodies. Throughout the set, Duren's sweet, girlish backing vocals provided a nice contrast to Young's boyish earnestness, likewise the live strings to the synth-driven melodies. During the sunny "Umbrella Beach," Musten tastefully added some plucked violin strings. On the similarly buoyant "Strawberry Avalanche," the two-woman string section traded in their instruments for a tambourine and shaker and danced around the stage. Decker provided some interesting live skittering beats on "Hello Seattle," and on "Meteor Shower," a song in which Young's guitar and the live drums were prominent, Owl City drifted closer in sound to Ben Gibbard's Death Cab for Cutie than the Postal Service.

When Owl City left the stage without playing its hit, a "Fireflies" chant erupted from the crowd, prompting Young and company to return and oblige. The crowd sang along in unison in a joyous display of pop perfection that only the dourest critic could dismiss. Still, while Owl City has captured the hearts and minds of young fans, it'll be interesting to watch how Young develops as a songwriter and performer. With more life experience, perhaps he'll even add some lows to balance out Owl City's sugary highs.