SOMETIMES you don’t even have to turn on a TV to discover the next American Idol.
At tiny Mercury Lounge, guitar-toting newcomer Will Dailey mostly engaged a packed club with pop music’s No. 1 killer combo — hooks ‘n’ looks.
Tall and scruffy under a mop of curly brown hair, Dailey has chiseled features, a nimble yet gritty tenor, and at least a dozen original sad, sensitive songs that somehow make you want to dance.
This show, only 10 tunes long, made no missteps. Stylistically, his compositions were reminiscent of either Tim Buckley-like folk rock or John Mayer pop. All very catchy numbers that were well-played by him and his backing four-piece rock band.
On his new album, “Torrent” — which has already been mined by most of the alpha-numeric shows on TV (“CSI,” “NCIS,” “90210”) — he is smooth. Too smooth, in fact, to make anything but ripples in the pop pool.
In concert he and his band are a tidal wave of musical energy: At this show he physically expressed his passion for the music by pretzeling his lanky frame in time with the beat and twisting his handsome mug into a classic ugly face as he sang with a mouth so wide you’d think he could unhinge his jaw.
As on “Torrent,” Dailey opened the show with the jangly blast of “Peace of Mind.” In the studio this song has unneeded orchestration, and again is nothing but smooth. In the club, however, it was a crisp, rocking opener that quelled the chatter and focused all eyes on the frontman.
If Dailey has any problems as a performer it’s his inability to fully command his audience when he gets soulful, sensitive and really quiet, as he did on the song “Allston.” During this ode to his Boston hometown, he was so introverted he seemed to turn himself inside out — but he couldn’t control the chatter.
The house of mostly young and adoring women then started shushing the chitchat, creating a din that sounded like a pricked balloon deflating.
Luckily, most of the other tunes in the set were very upbeat guitar rock that took full advantage of the crackerjack band that had performance peaks with a song called “Never Be Your Baby” — made lush with the addition of 12-string guitar work — and the last tune, “Down the Drain.”
Forget the last five months of force-fed artificial pop music on TV that just crowned a king (who I’m betting will be forgotten as quickly as he was created) — Will Dailey is the real deal.