A couple weeks ago, I threw a five-day music festival called Squeak and Squawk. One of the things that irked me most about the whole affair was how the crowds in Tacoma tend to react. Of course, all of the crowds were respectful and everyone had a fine old time, but there was a phenomenon that started to appear - particularly when out-of-town bands were performing.

As great bands like Tender Forever, Twin Steps, the Hoot Hoots and others were on stage, there would be a crowd of Tacomans hanging back with their hands in their pockets. Inevitably, the out-of-town bands would say some variation of, "Feel free to come closer to the stage." And still, audience members would keep a reserved distance. It's an uphill battle in these parts to get people to let loose and just fucking dance, already. Moshing at the Monday punk show? No problem. But dancing can be a blind spot.

It's because of this tendency that I end up being drawn to bands like The Redwood Plan. Their latest album, Green Light Go, is a nonstop exercise in full-on dance-rock combustion. The Redwood Plan is not fond of giving you a moment to breathe. From the first track, "Panic On," the album just does not rest.

"The Redwood Plan started as a project of friends getting together playing music and drinking bourbon in a grimy practice space," says frontwoman Lesli Wood. "The agenda was purely to have fun, write music we enjoy and play some shows.

"Individually, we all have very different influences. ... I was in a riot grrrl band for about ten years and, while I loved being in a politically active band, I was ready to start something that was more focused on getting people out on the dance floor. Though our songs still have positive and empowering messages, the intent is to write the hooks and riffs that'll make people move."

The style of dance-rock perpetuated by The Redwood Plan tends to defer to the sort of pulsing synths that you imagine might have scored a speedboat chase on Miami Vice. Everything is forward motion, punctuated by surprisingly lovely melodies, as on the appropriately titled "The Scenery and the Melody," which hums with the kind of chiming synth lines that you might see in the climax of a John Hughes movie.

"Yeah, there is a certain James Bond action-movie concept happening, especially with the new album," says Wood. "The album is about running full throttle toward something that you are incredibly scared of just to see what will happen and being completely exhilarated along the way."

"Rattle," meanwhile, finds The Redwood Plan approaching the sort of too-cool style and attitude of dance pop acts like the Ting Tings, where the rhythm of the vocals alone are enough to get your feet moving, and that's before the clattering hi-hats, crackling drums and cacophonous handclaps push it over the edge.

The bands I mentioned earlier were extending invitations to those mopey Tacoma crowds to get them to move a little bit. But The Redwood Plan, in contrast, don't appear to be asking any questions at all. Their dance-rock anthems come out like shots across the bow. These are provocations to get on the dance floor - little jabs in the solar plexus for anyone insisting on keeping their hands in their pockets.

It seems to me that the message from The Redwood Plan would be something like, "If you're not dancing, that's on you, man."

THE REDWOOD PLAN, w/ Steel Cranes and Full Moon Radio, 7 p.m., Sunday, Sept. 29, all ages, Le Voyeur, 404 E. Fourth Ave., Olympia, $3, 360.943.5710