It was called a "dress rehearsal" by the band, and it just might have been the worst-kept secret in and around the Boston music scene and beyond a week ago Thursday night (I even got one call from California about it), but it was really as much a chance for friends and relatives of Mission of Burma, along with media types like myself, to get used to the idea that the members of one of the most venerated Boston punk bands truly have reunited for a series of shows in NYC and Boston. The band certainly would have been tossing themselves out of the frying pan and into the fire if they’d gone directly from the rehearsal space to this past weekend’s sold-out two-night stand at NYC’s Irving Plaza, which doubtless brought out a big chunk of the national music media that’s based there. So a last-minute friendly practice run at 608 — the club formerly known as Lilli’s — in Somerville made for a nice way for Burma to transition from no audience to a packed Irving Plaza. And since it now appears that all three of their Boston shows this weekend — one at Avalon on Friday night and two at the Paradise the next day — will sell out, the 608 gig was a great way to make sure that family and close friends of the band, some of whom may have gotten out of the habit of hanging at rock clubs every weekend in the almost two decades since Mission of Burma broke up, had at least one chance to experience what few people ever thought they’d see: bassist Clint Conley, guitarist Roger Miller, and drummer Peter Prescott together again on the same stage, playing all those great classic Burma songs.

Any doubts as to whether the boys were still up to generating the emotional intensity documented on their one live album, The Horrible Truth About Burma (Rykodisc reissue), were gradually dispelled as Prescott, in the role he was born to play, worked up a furious beat behind the instrumental opening sections of "Secrets" while Conley and Miller held down the oscillating chord progression. By the time they dug into the more melodic terrain of "(That’s How I Escaped) My Certain Fate," smiles were spreading throughout the crowd, and if Prescott’s occasional uncontrolled shout-outs from behind his kit were any indication, the band too knew they were on a roll. It lasted all the way to the final encore — which, of course, was "That’s When I Reach for My Revolver" (you can find the rest of the set list on line at www.missionofburma.com). What struck me was how contemporary the material sounded — Mission of Burma would be perfectly at home next to most of what’s coming out on post-punk labels like Jade Tree these days. In other words, if you’re looking for the roots of emo, Burma (and "Revolver" in particular) wouldn’t be a bad place to start. So who knows, maybe there’s a future beyond Saturday for the trio of Conley/Miller/Prescott.