It's hard to decide which eminently bummed-out cartoon character Stephin Merritt most resembles. Is it Eeyore? Droopy? When his band, the Magnetic Fields, performed Sunday night at Lisner Auditorium, the eternally melancholy Merritt did not so much lead the group as loom over it like some apparition in an Edward Gorey book.

Perched atop a tall stool, actively recoiling from the sound of applause (Merritt suffers from hyperacusis, a hearing disorder that can make the sound of loud clapping difficult to bear) and doling out cheery banter such as "This is another song about death," Merritt's stage presence was positively dour. But the singer-songwriter's pervasive dreariness is not without charm -- at the very least it makes for some very good tunes.

Entirely ignoring the fact that its latest album is both titled "Distortion" and entirely saturated with guitar feedback, the band -- a chamber group that includes cello, piano and acoustic guitar -- performed a quiet set that allowed Merritt's dark and often hilarious wordplay to hold center stage.

With vocal duties split between Merritt and his longtime band mates Claudia Gonson and Shirley Simms, the Magnetic Fields cleverly skirted the edge of good taste with songs about a nun who dreams of becoming a topless waitress and a goat that swallows lye.

But the set's most poignant moments came when the band tweaked the gloomy conventions of love songs. "You tell me I'm not not cute / Its truth or falsity is moot," sang Merritt during "I Don't Believe You." A miserablist he may be, but he's a miserablist with a good sense of humor.

--Aaron Leitko, Oct. 2008