URBANA – A little sunshine and a lot of thunder packed Foellinger Auditorium at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Monday when Guster performed their eclectic repertoire.

Brian “Thundergod” Rosenworcel beat the bongos to the cheery opener “What You Wish For,” a sound as pure as it is on the “Lost and Gone Forever” disc. An orange and red light swelled with the sound, climbing like a canyon sunrise as hopping fans snapped photos on their cell phones.

“Are you guys excited to be at the rock concert tonight?” vocalist and guitarist Ryan Miller asked. He was answered, of course, by a chorus of cheers.

“You can tell we are because I’ve changed my pants for the first time in two weeks.”

Rosenworcel moved to a regular drum set for the newer stuff from this year’s “Keep It Together.” The frenzy was similar for “Backyard,” a song with all the banjo-pluckin’, harmonica-crooning freeness of a romp through the sprinkler in your skivvies.

Concertgoers zoomed back in time for “Mona Lisa,” the reveling clip from “Parachute,” their freshman indie release. Nearly the entire crowd belted out the infectiously relatable chorus: “I used to sit and watch the pouring rain/I used to wish to be back home again. Hadn’t the strength then/hadn’t the chance to reveal, but it’s all/it’s all in your head.”

The mood slowed down for a while after that as the band shifted into lower-key, newer material. Things swung up tempo briefly for “Airport Song,” punctuated by the traditional rain of ping pong balls.

For the encore, Guster fired up “Demon,” it’s penetrating guitar riff and relifted the crowd. To cap the evening, Rosenworcel bleated a pubescent-sounding rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Kathleen Edwards opened the evening with her own tunes and covers of Tom Petty and AC/DC. The Canadian songstress undoubtedly snagged a few new fans with her voice, at once mournful and serene as a church bell. Though slight of stature, Edwards raised a racket, bending into her guitar the way some people rummage under the hood of a car.

The hot, sweaty guitar sex between Edwards and her bandmates wrought swelling , monster-ballad scale riffs, a sound nearly as huge and engaging as Rosenworcel’s pounding.