Before I saw Ben Hardt play Thunderbird Cafe Friday, the last time I’d seen a string quartet assemble inside a smoky, overstuffed bar was precisely never. The sheer novelty of Full Rock Band + Full String Section would have been enough to get me to a show, but I really wanted to see in person the same enthralling songs that had entranced me as I happened across his MySpace page earlier in the week.

With more than a handful of technical challenges and the very real risk of OD-ing on melodramatic, mournful refrains, a lot can go awry with an eight-person ensemble tackling a live version of a pop rock album about love during the WWII blitz. Yet no one is more capable of managing those pressures as Hardt, who seems as comfortable keeping the string section restrained as he is belting out falsettos during the more predictable, heady phrases that swell into cinematic proportions.

Aside from the music, which I’ll get to in a moment, the gig was a success also because of Hardt’s attention to detail. The mood was set early, as Hardt set up his gear, including what was one of the more complicated sound check’s I’ve ever seen. The stage took on the qualities of a cramped orchestra pit, stuffed with music stands, amplifiers and a folding plexiglass shield to protect the delicate strings from the harsh roar of the rock band, just feet away. The theatrical mood crept in slowly as Hardt prepared to go on, and was solidly in play by the time he and the other musicians took the stage in a kind of urban orchestra attire: all black casual, with Hardt himself clad in matching black slacks, vest, shirt and tie.

But this was not like a night at the orchestra or theater. It was a night at a rock show in a crowded bar (a fact tellingly illustrated when the first violinist occasionally swigged from a bottle of Corona sitting beside her chair, which one does not see at Carnegie Hall, ever). The truth is, Hardt’s music doesn’t thrive solely because of the symphony component. At the core, Hardt’s band is a solid rock ‘n’ roll outfit, capable of moving plenty of hips in its own right. Some amazing, shimmering noises come out of the guitars, and Hardt’s catchy pop rock resembles the Goo Goo Dolls or even Jimmy Eat World in some moments. Hardt is also a fine singer, covering a tremendous range with confidence and seeming ease.

As the frontman/guitarist/arranger/conductor, Hardt has the big picture in mind at all times and seems constantly aware how easy it would be to go overboard on the symphony sound. So the two violins, viola and cello have very specific jobs, often just adding a dash of texture or some added color into the mix of otherwise straightforward four-piece rock band stuff. The noises, which can only come from bows and strings, add to some of the tense, anxious moments that build up to frequent, unabashed rock outs. It was always a pleasing and beautiful effect to hear Hardt singing along over a string accompaniment. And deep, groovy, string-based legatos helped to build a wall of sound during Hardt’s cover of The Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These),” which drew some of the loudest cheers of the night.

And then there were moments — rare moments — when Hardt called on the strings themselves to be the centerpiece. “Runaway” began with a squeaky little melody and evolved through various chugging, palm muted paces to reach a violin-splashed spectacle that was part ho-down, part baroque metal battle cry. The soloist, whom Hardt introduced only as Ashely, shredded the strings of her instrument no less furiously than any metalhead with an axe.

In the end, that climactic moment was one of the night’s clear highlights, but it was not the best reason to go see Ben Hardt and The Symphony. The wow-factor of the on-stage string ensemble is compelling, but the real draw is simply Ben Hardt and his band, which just so happens to include a string section. The music is layered and complicated and interesting to listen to. Isn’t that cool enough?