SAN FRANCISCO -- When the country-folk quartet Freakwater took the stage on Friday at the Great American Music Hall, the silence of the crowd was almost deafening.

It was a reverential quiet reserved mostly for heroes and icons.

Confronted by this powerful silence and the stillness that permeated the audience, vocalists Janet Beveridge Bean and Catherine Ann Irwin of the Chicago-based retro band launched, a cappella, into the upbeat Carter Family classic "Keep On The Sunny Side."

Only the occasional "Yee-haw!" from the audience interrupted the intense calm and reassured any purists in attendance that, yes, this was country music. But there was no question about it; this was not your average country performance by any stretch of the imagination.

Freakwater's Appalachian-folk-influenced balladry may seem depressing, even morbid on record, but live, they are vibrant -- both in their sound and their presentation. Bean, formerly of indie-rock darlings Eleventh Dream Day, was a Grand Ole Opry vision in a pastel-green faux-Nudie-suit with rhinestone- embroidered leaves decorating the jacket. Irwin, her hair plastered to her head at random with big, shiny barrettes, resembled a much skinnier Ma Kettle. Lanky bassist David Gay lurked in the background, droopily thrumming the strings.

Meanwhile, multi-instrumentalist Max Johnston, late of No-Depression forefathers Uncle Tupelo, proved that there's not an instrument with strings that he can't play, moving effortlessly from fiddle to mandolin to slide guitar.

Performing a lengthy set full of audience favorites from their five records, Freakwater made it clear that the evening's theme was old-time country -- pre-Nashville Sound and definitely pre-rock. There wasn't a hint of distortion, and nary a drum. Instead, there was simply Bean and Irwin; Bean's voice high and powerful and Irwin's low and buzzing with a bigger-than-Elvis sneer at the edge of her mouth.

Working beautiful harmonies out of discord, Bean's sweet voice, which at times recalls Emmylou Harris, offset Irwin's harsher, almost-broken tones.

On "Picture In My Mind" Johnston provided a rolling banjo backbeat while Bean and Irwin sang, "Whiskey is not evil/ when it's sitting on the shelf/ I'm as sweet as I can be/ when I'm home all by myself." This undercurrent of menace, so prevalent on their latest CD, Springtime, was at odds with the simple charm of these four performers. Irwin's cartoonish sneer, which you'd swear that you can hear on their records, was simply engaging and funny.

And the audience loved it. You could hear it in their silence.

Moody Bay Area singer/songwriter Richard Buckner, the evening's opening act, wasn't so lucky. While he performed a set that mostly consisted of new material from his forthcoming record, the audience babbled and chattered like a field of chipmunks.

Maybe it's Buckner, himself. Pasty-faced with side-parted medium-length hair, he resembles the kid that always got beat up in high school. There's even a hint of baby fat still surrounding the thin beard outlining his jaw. He seems to worry over every minor-key note and restrictive melody, mulling every moment. Suddenly, he'll burst out with emotional fervor, one word or phrase shoved skyward.

"He always changes his songs around when he plays onstage," said Linda Johnson, a longtime fan. "It's dramatic."

Buckner sang every song with a brooding demeanor, head-cocked, staring into space. Maybe it was the size of the club; in a more intimate venue, the crowd might have been less disconnected from his depressing, soulful country-folk.

Maybe it was the new material that distanced the crowd from Buckner, but one got the sense that his heart just wasn't in it.

Only on the final number, "Fater," a downbeat a cappella dirge, did the audience and the artist seem truly engaged.

For Freakwater, however, the night proved triumphant. They demonstrated that their brand of Appalachian Folk -- retro as it may be -- can still sound relevant and alive, an old-fashioned testament to melody and powerful voices.

And silent awe.