On a lazy Monday, the last thing the members of Yeasayer were prepared for was a show. Stretched out on the couches of their makeshift camp for the day–an isolated Row house living room–they were enraptured by Liz Lemon’s screeching on the latest “30 Rock” and counting down the hours until home and the much-needed break.

As they settled themselves after sound check, the band members shifted their focus to a spread of catered food and drinks–a half-eaten rotisserie chicken, organic avocados and beef jerky littered a coffee table between bottles of sake and Orangina. But the peace was broken by a provision of pungent cheese that lay untouched on the table.

“That cheese f—— reeks,” said bassist Ira Wolf Tuton. “It’s f—— grossing me out.”

Despite the moans, the cheese remained. No one was willing to put in the energy or relinquish his comfortable position to take action. It was too much work.

At the tail end of a tour that began in February, the members of Yeasayer were tired. They’d been everywhere from Coachella to Cologne, and only one performance–a college gig at Stanford–lay between them and the promise of home. And that’s where conversation fluttered toward, as they could hardly hide the anticipation of sleeping in their own beds for the first time in four months. Guitarist Anand Wilder began counting off the shows he’d be attending while home–HAIR, Iggy Pop and a Sleigh Bells release party. But Tuton politely disagreed.

“F— that, I’m not going,” he said. “The last thing I want to do a day after tour is go to a show. F— that. F— no. That’s like one of the five days we’re off. I don’t want to be in a loud venue. I just want to go to dinner when I want to go to dinner and chill.”

“You don’t really like music, huh?,” Wilder joshed.

“I don’t really like music,” Tuton replied. “I like personal music, not collective music.”

Two hours before their scheduled appearance, Yeasayer looked more like a bunch of college students on the brink of summer than a band who has enjoyed a meteoric rise up the indie ranks after releasing their second album, “Odd Blood.” Still, they had an obligation to play, and after being moved indoors because of rain, the show seemed an easy way to kill an hour or two before they boarded red-eyes for the East Coast.

After the opening act, The Sea People (which includes a few Stanford students), Yeasayer stepped on stage to an enthusiastic crowd loaded into the quickly prepared Oak Room in Tresidder Union. Among them stood dedicated fans with signs and those simply interested in glimpsing the $18,000 coup that Stanford Concert Network managed to pull off in attracting the band to campus.

But Yeasayer came on, seemingly preoccupied by their thoughts of home. Launching immediately into “The Children,” the autotuned anomaly from “Odd Blood,” the band couldn’t shake the lethargy that had plagued them for much of the afternoon. Those unfamiliar with the song were puzzled, hoping that the low-pitched, Gothic chant was not the band’s M.O. Luckily, it’s not, and following the sedated start, the band kicked it up another gear to pump out the enjoyable “Rome” and later “Summer.”

Still, crowd interaction was at a premium, as lead singer Chris Keating only addressed the audience four songs in and seemed intent on finishing the set as soon as possible. The feeling was palpable. The crowd, while welcoming with brief bursts of applause, was unsure how to react, creating an awkward atmosphere between song transitions.

At that point, “2080” was more than welcome, and the song served as something of a turning point for Yeasayer’s set. The apocalyptic tune provided a kind of second wind to both the band and the crowd, as Keating, Wilder and Tuton alternated between the song’s melodic wailing and fast-paced chanting. It provided a platform from which to launch into the band’s hits, as they next played fan-favorite “Tightrope” and the infectious “O.N.E.”

The smiles came out soon after, as Yeasayer found their comfort zone more than halfway through their performance. But with their set fixed, the feeling only lasted for a few songs after. Cue “Madder Red,” an impressive display of harmonies and Wilder’s solo efforts and finally, “Ambling Alp,” which sent the crowd into raptures and caused a somewhat forced stage invasion. And while Yeasayer left to chants of “one more song,” they were having none of it. Their manager stepped on stage to hush the crowd and send them to the exits. Stepping off stage, Yeasayer was homeward bound as soon as the last synth cut out.