Let’s get this out of the way right now: Bend’s music fans deserve big props this week.

I’ve slagged you guys a couple times on these pages, but kudos are due after you filled the big ol’ Midtown Ballroom on Sunday night to see the Dropkick Murphys.

I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical about the turnout. Even after seeing the place packed to the gills for that other big-time Irish-punk band, Flogging Molly, in December 2007, I didn’t think Dropkick could sell out the 1,000ish-capacity Midtown on a chilly Sunday night in November, especially in an economic climate considerably stormier than two years ago.

But they did. They sold the place out. Which is great for the Dropkick Murphys, great for the folks behind the show, and great for Bend’s music scene.

Now let’s keep this going, folks, OK? Get out there and see live music every chance you get.

As for the show itself, it was pretty much exactly what I expected: Boisterous, fist-pumping punk rock from a band that knows exactly what the people want and exactly how to give it to them.

So what do the people want? Well, the masses at Midtown — many young, some middle-aged, and more true mohawks than I ever see out in Bend — wanted the Dropkick Murphys loud and they wanted ’em proud, of their hometown (Boston), their heritage (Irish), and their hearty mix of rowdy hardcore punk and traditional Irish sounds.

They got it all. From the first blast of “For Boston” (the fight song of Boston College University) to the final notes of the show-closer, “Alcohol,” the Murphys delivered a blistering sonic assault that hardly let up for 90 minutes.

That was the “loud.” As for the “proud,” the band took the stage to the wistful strains of a traditional ballad recorded by Sinead O’Connor and The Chieftains, performed in front of a cool backdrop of Gothic arches adorned with clovers, and played song after song with names like “(F)lannigan’s Ball” and “Finnegan’s Wake” and “The Spicy McHaggis Jig.”

Yeah, you heard me. “The Spicy McHaggis Jig.” Wanna make something of it?

Along the way, the band stuck to its guns: pounding drums, chugging guitars, and frontman Al Barr’s gargling-nails vocals, all tinted an authentic shade of green with great big portions of banjo, bagpipes, accordion and tin whistle.

The set started off distinctly Irish (“The State of Massachusetts,” “Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya”) and then veered slightly in a more pop-rock direction (“Sunshine Highway,” “Walk Away”). There were a couple nice aural boots to the face — most notably the thrashy “Citizen C.I.A.” — before the band circled back to more Irish pub-punk singalongs.

Dropkick fans are loyal, that’s for sure. A sizable chunk of the audience knew most of the words to most of the songs; Barr even ditched the mic during “Far Away Coast” and let the crowd sing a few lines on their own. And I’ve never seen so many folks wearing a band’s shirt at that band’s show. Of course, I can’t remember the last time I saw a merch table with so many options, from shirts and hats to scarves, patches, a back-to-school notebook, even a Dropkick Murphys Christmas ornament.

You can buy a bottle opener and bottle cap catcher bearing the band’s logo, for crying out loud. Now that’s branding!

My favorite part of the night, however, was the encore, which is just how it should be. The Murphys kicked it off with a cover of The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” (which also was Flogging Molly’s intro music two years ago, coincidentally), and followed it with a rousing rendition of their big hit, “I’m Shipping Up to Boston,” for which the place went absolutely ape-poop. It was great.

And in the true spirit of all for one and one for all, the band dragged dozens of sweaty fans onstage for the big finale number, “Alcohol.” As the song ramped up, chaos ensued, and Barr moved as far to the side of the stage as he could to avoid the fray, and probably enjoy it, too.

It was a great scene, well worth enjoying. These folks locked arms and they swayed and they sang along with a band that came to Bend, plugged in, and gave them a heck of a show.

The best part? That this wasn’t a one-way relationship. In return for a great show, Bend showed up in big numbers, which is not something you can say after every concert in this town.

A big crowd almost always makes for a better show. And this was one of those nights, when you could feel the energy coursing through the room, from the stage to the floor and back again.

For more photos

from the Dropkick Murphys show in Bend, visit www.BendBulletin.com/Frequency