If the seven members of “Awesome” got stuck in an elevator with a kitchen timer, a hubcap, and the lint in their pockets, they would probably be able to write a symphony in 15 minutes—20, tops. And it would be wonderful. They are savantly good at setting out catchy, sad, insane little ditties, or dirges, or arena-rock ballads—really, whatever you want (did someone say polka?)—and putting them onstage, dressed in hilarious premise, delivered with you-can-laugh-if-you-want-to straightness, narrated by displaced voices and aided, in the storytelling, by gorgeous films, or actors in costume, or disappearing geometric patterns of electric tape on the floor.

Their latest show, noSIGNAL, commissioned last spring by On the Boards, had the songs, the hilarious (if anxious-making) premise, the gorgeous film (by David Russo), the costumes (sharp suits), and the geometric pattern on the floor (beehive), but there were no actors except the band itself. This was a simplifying touch. “Awesome”’s previous theatrical experience, Delaware, had lots of distracting actors.

The version of noSIGNAL put together for Bumbershoot is a further simplification of elements: noSIGNAL’s original two acts have been condensed to one and the story’s been slightly restructured. The result is something almost assuredly shorter and better. (The original had damn funny stuff, but it dragged.) The show is about seven characters realizing that they are part of something they don’t understand, but trying to follow along, trying to find the logic in the noise, and in doing so, stumbling onto tons and tons of music, as if they can’t help it. It’s sort of a metaphor for “Awesome” itself, who in a strange way seem incapable of not continuing to produce, like clowns with hands perpetually full of flowers. Minus any scary clownness. They’re just these guys. They are John Osebold, Kirk Anderson, David Nixon, John Ackermann, Evan Mosher, Basil Harris, and Rob Witmer, and they’ll be playing together forever. Or at least until one of them dies.