By Jonathan Zwickel

OF ALL THE things to rise out of the burlesque revival of the past few years, a self-described "Eastern-bloc indie rock" band is not the most probable. But while DeVotchKa were backing showgirls like Dita Von Teese and Catherine D'Lish two years ago, bandleader Nick Urata had bigger things in mind. Women in corsets and stiletto heels were just part of the equation.

DeVotchKa's blend of gypsy instrumentation (accordion, bouzouki, violin), mariachi horns, and flamenco guitar is perfectly suited for burlesque's vintage spectacle, but the Denver band exude theatricality all on their own. With a powerful, quivering tenor and rakish leading-man looks, Urata stands somewhere between Thom Yorke and Chris Isaak. His lyrics speak the travails of a lovelorn urban castoff, and he frequently paints in Southwestern shades with twangy electric guitar or adds brassy Mexicali tones on trumpet. That vivid evocation of place underlies all the band's music. Whether it's a smoky jazz bar on the Left Bank or a sawdust-floored west Texas saloon, DeVotchKa want you to feel transported. "It's all about escapism," Urata said by phone from his Denver home, "and nothing can do it like music."

Urata formed the band five years ago in Chicago, turning back to his childhood memories of Sicilian family get-togethers and "a giant, black breathing lung of an instrument," the accordion. When his writing partner, violinist Tom Hagerman, bought one and learned to play, the DeVotchKa sound was hatched. Hagerman eventually left to study music in Colorado. Urata followed and solidified the band's lineup.

With Jeannie Schroder alternating on upright bass and sousaphone, DeVotchKa's low end thumps with hefty ballast. Another multi-instrumentalist, Shawn King, plays drums, piano, and trumpet. In a vaudevillian flourish, he and Urata often start performances in the back of the room, serenading the unsuspecting crowd. "That's one way we can make it like a backyard party, where the music's all around," Urata said. "It's more festive, instead of a sterile show."

DeVotchKa's two albums, 2000's Supermelodrama and last year's Una Volta (both on Cicero Recordings), swell in lush, filmic sepia tones, spiked with dervishlike campfire rave-ups, softly strummed ballads, and punk-infused anguish. The band's knack for creating atmosphere and uplift keeps the music together.

Take the sublime "Queen of the Surface Streets," the centerpiece of Una Volta. The song is pulled off with a soaring Broadway grandeur that elevates its boy-worships-girl story line into a chamber pop masterpiece. "As for my money means, I couldn't care / 'Cause when the day is done, she'll be lying here / That's when I love the accommodations / In a urine-smelling transit station," Urata sings, his voice swept up in a warm crescendo of orchestral strings.

Set for release in early October, How It Ends is the band's most balanced effort to date. The stylistic hopscotch is still evident, but here it's grounded by tighter songwriting and stronger playing. Unorthodox instrumentation like glockenspiel, bass harmonica, and pedal steel (courtesy of Calexico's Paul Niehaus) round out the album. Producer Craig Schumacher has worked with sunbaked Southwest luminaries like Giant Sand and Calexico, whom DeVotchKa toured with last year. And like DeVotchKa, all of those bands grab the imagination, pulling the listener into faded reveries of midnight desert highways and empty city streets. "We're doing similar stuff," Urata said, "but mining different areas."

Urata is excited about another national burlesque tour currently in the planning stages, though he's a little worried about getting pegged as a raunchy sideshow act, "But who cares?" he added. "That wouldn't be such a bad way to go."

DeVotchKa open for Jim White Sat/25, 9 p.m., Great American Music Hall, 859 O'Farrell, S.F. $15. (415) 885-0750.